“Anaesthesia will do that for you. Your chart says they had to remove a lot of small shrapnel pieces, so there was a remote possibility one was overlooked or found its way into an artery. In such cases, we let the patients sleep a little longer, so we don’t have to re-intubate if any complications arise and make it necessary to go back in. No need to worry, you’re recovering just fine.” she patted my right foot. “Though, our patients here are usually not awake, so we don’t have much entertainment to offer. I’d recommend you try to go back to sleep until the doctor can take a look at you in the morning. Then we’ll put you in a regular room and you can see visitors.”
‘In the morning’. So it was night out. I couldn’t see any windows, so I was unable to check. I also didn’t see my stuff anywhere, so I couldn’t even attempt to call someone with my phone. I couldn’t ask her any more questions either, though.
As soon as she finished her last sentence, she simply turned and walked away. I was about to protest and call her back, when I noticed how quick she was moving. Guess she had more than enough on her hands, and my brain was working well enough by now to take an inventory of myself and recognize that I did not need immediate help.
There was no more pain in my extremities and I was wide awake. Remembering how scared I was during the ambulance drive, I was surprised how calm I was now. My right arm was fixed in a sling that was strapped to my torso, while my left arm had an IV running. My right shoulder had a massive gauze pad taped to it that went from the middle of my pec, over my shoulder, to the top of my shoulder blade on my back. My left leg was raised on some kind of pillow, but my thigh looked weird. Like they put a dozen layers of gauze pads on the wound, and then taped it all together.
Just as advertised, there was absolutely nothing for me to do other than to sing made up songs in my head to the beat of the heart monitor. Since there was no way for me to go back to sleep in that fully illuminated room, I inadvertently started thinking about Mia, asking myself if she and her friends were Okay.
It also made me think about why we did what we did. I enjoyed making her climax tremendously, just as I enjoyed the cuddling on the sofa that followed, but still couldn’t see either of us pursue a romantic relationship with the other. But then, why did I step in front of Mia when Campbell pointed a gun at her? I don’t think I had any particular desire to protect her. Though, it was also different from when I stepped in front of those three guys in the parking lot. I just acted without thinking.
Luckily, I merely had to ponder for another three or four hours before a doctor showed up for his morning round.
I learned that this Hospital Stay would last for at least a week, and, since I was unable to walk to the bathroom anyway, the catheter would stay for a few days as well. Apparently, the multitude of wounds presented an increased risk for infections, and the wound in my leg was ‘packed’ so it would heal from the inside out. Both things they wanted to keep an eye on. That meant I would have another week at home before I had to decide if I was well enough for school, though the Doctor was already pessimistic about it.
“The first bullet shattered after it passed through your vest, Mr. Brown.” the doctor informed me. “But before a bullet passes through a vest, it pushes the whole thing several inches inwards. In your case, it caused a luckily clean fracture in your collar bone. That will be quite uncomfortable for a while.”
“Fuck’s sake. I broke a rib a few weeks ago. That thing JUST finished mending!”
“Yes, I saw that in your file. Sorry about that.” he chuckled. “At least the next two shots hit the vest directly. We did an ultrasound but don’t expect more than marginal bruising in your abdomen. The leg, however, got the worst. It’s going to be Okay eventually, but we can’t close it up. Your body would capsule off the cavity and create a cesspool for bacteria. Thankfully it was a very small caliber, the wound is relatively shallow, so I’d say ... about three weeks before we can stop packing it and let it close by itself, if it heals without complications.”
“Well, thanks for fixing me up! Guess I’ll just have to wait then.”
He smiled, nodded, and moved on to the other beds in the room, to check on the patients that were not awake yet.
When they finally rolled me into a small private room, the nurse handed me a bag with my belongings. I was pleasantly surprised to see my phone still being alive. Until I tried to call Paul and it died. I also noticed that I needed to replace almost everything in my wallet, since it was in my knee pocket right underneath where I was hit, and everything was now covered in dried blood.
My next surprise came an hour later, when Paul arrived with not only my stuff, but also with Bill, a police officer, and Mr. Miller in tow.
