Chapter 7
CHAPTER
SEVEN
Mongrel
While I’m comfortable thanks to the wild pillow that Gretchen found that keeps my shoulder immobilized, as well as the ice contraption that Doc set up, sleep doesn’t come easy.
It’s more of a light doze as my mind plays over everything that the discharge paperwork said was in my future.
My shoulder and arm are still pleasantly numb, although Doc did make sure to leave a pain pill and some water on my nightstand.
He mentioned something about getting ahead of the pain, which I don’t understand at all, and made me promise that if I woke up and could feel my arm I would take it even if the nerve block was still partially working.
Sighing, I grip the remote and turn my television on, finding a streaming service to use.
One of the good things about living in the clubhouse is we have every available package we could ever want, from ESPN to Paramount Plus, with the exception of any ‘adult’ channels.
Since porn has never been my thing to watch, I personally don’t care and I’d hazard a guess that the other brothers don’t either.
I snicker when I click on ‘Boy Child 1’ which is the ID I use while streaming online, along with several other brothers, then I scroll to the series that I’ve been binging.
Since I’m the one who is currently watching Criminal Minds Evolution , I’m able to pick up where I last watched.
Issy created a spreadsheet of all the popular shows because at first, brothers were choosing what they liked and they didn’t care if someone had already binged four seasons, they’d start it over at the beginning.
It’s almost like a library system at this point, but it beats all the ring times several of the brothers endured.
I snicker a bit remembering one of the brawls in the common room.
Nerd is usually so damn laid back that when he came out of his office hollering then went up to Cue and threw a fist, everyone was shocked senseless.
Apparently, Nerd was in season twelve of Supernatural , but when he logged in again, he found himself back at season four.
Assuming it was an error, he found where he had left off and started watching again, only for it to happen multiple times over the next few days.
So, Issy created her system and each one of us is in a group, with the exception of Rio because who wants to fuck with what the president’s binge watching?
“It was a shitshow, that’s for sure,” I murmur as I quickly become engrossed in the latest BAU case.
An hour later, I realize that I can feel my left arm tingling, so I take the pill Doc left and keep watching.
Soon, however, the pins and needles feeling has warped into actual pain that has me in absolute agony.
As sweat pours down my shaking body, I realize I’m going to be sick and grab one of those barf bags from my nightstand.
Right now, I’m grateful for Gretchen because despite Doc’s raised brow, she made sure there were several available ‘just in case’.
Hell, who am I kidding? She bought a whole sleeve of them on Amazon and stashed them in and on my nightstand, with the extras in my bathroom.
“I hate puking,” I grunt as I hold the bag. “It’s not like there was that much in me to begin with, for fuck’s sake!”
Even though I have no limitations on what I can eat, both Doc and Gretchen told me that the anesthesia still in my body could make me queasy, so I ate mostly bland foods when I finally got home and stuck to water.
Still, my meals were far less than I usually ate portion wise, so I don’t understand where all of this is coming from.
As my shakes continue, I reach for my phone to call Doc, only for it to drop and slide underneath my bed. “There’s no way I’ll be able to get back up. Think, Cameron, think. Do you have anything you can use to try and get it out?”
Despite my current physical misery, I manage to get out of the bed and make my way to the bathroom, my shoulder and arm thrumming to the beat of my heart at this point.
Nausea swamps me once again and I somehow manage to make it to the toilet before losing pure bile.
Once I clean up, I look in the cupboard where my clean towels are and grin when I find the grippy thing that Gretchen got for me.
I don’t think Doc realizes what a treasure he has in her; she went above and beyond to make sure any little tool that would help me in my recovery was purchased.
“I’m ordering more stuff for her,” I grit out as my stomach roils. After taking a piss, I wash my hand and look in the mirror, shocked when I see that I look gray. “Gotta get with Doc,” I mumble, grabbing the gripper and walking back into the bedroom.
A wave of pain nearly puts me on my knees as I stumble to the bed.
Grabbing a puke bag, I shudder through another round of vomiting that is nothing more than stomach bile at this point.
I’m beginning to wonder if there’s something horribly wrong because nothing in the discharge paperwork indicated this was a possibility.
Once I’m sure I’m done, I take a small sip of water to rinse out my mouth.
I think I pass out for a bit and wake up with a start.
My skin feels clammy and I feel the nausea start again, like one of those damn rollercoasters.
I don’t puke this time thank fuck, and it finally subsides on its own.
Mostly, anyhow. Still, I know I’m in trouble and it’s going to be a little bit before Doc comes in to check on me so I’ve gotta help myself.
I grab the gripper and try to get my damn phone, but I end up pushing it further under the bed.
I decide to try to get to one of the brothers' rooms so they can call Doc for me. I only hope I can get there before I pass out. I have never felt this kind of pain before and if I knew it’d be like this, I would never have had this damn surgery.
I make it to the door and open it before it’s lights out for me.
I come to with a groan, feeling strong arms around me as they move forward.
“Get Doc,” I mumble, my mouth feeling drier than a fucking desert with all the vomiting I’ve done.
I honestly lost count of the bags I used, but I’m grateful for them because that’s one mess I would hate to have to clean up.
At least using the barf bags, they just have to be collected and tossed.
I snicker when I think of the tied-off bags, then moan as the pain ramps up again.
“I’ve got you, Mongrel,” Doc replies. “We’re heading to the hospital, Albertson’s meeting us there and he’s going to do another nerve block to try and get your pain under control.”
“Why did this happen?” I ask as another brother comes up behind me. Before I get an answer, I’m swung up into BamBam’s arms as he heads to the front door, Doc right behind us. “I felt it wearing off and took one of the pain pills like you told me to, Doc. I don’t understand.”
As BamBam gets me into the club’s SUV, Doc hustles to the driver’s side while Gretchen slips into the backseat. BamBam looks at me and says, “It happens, brother. Go get yourself sorted out.” He then makes sure my seatbelt is on and closes my door.
Doc focuses on getting us out of the compound first then glances in my direction and says, “Bam’s right, Mongrel.
At the end of the day, the muscles and tendons that were torn are highly inflamed.
Add in a surgery and they’re in over-the-top mode.
But Albertson will get you squared away, plus make sure I’ve got what I need to keep it from happening again. ”
“Don’t want anything too strong or addictive,” I mumble, trying to focus on not throwing up. I’m in no condition to detail a vehicle right now.
“I understand why you’re doing this,” Gretchen says, “but Mongrel, you need the good stuff for a few days at least. That won’t make you an addict.”
The trip to the hospital is a blur, with Gretchen handing me another bag as wave after wave of nausea hits me once again.
At this point, I’m pretty sure my stomach lining is involved since now I’ve added blood to the mix, and my throat feels like it’s on fire.
“Blood,” I mumble as I swipe my hand across my lips.
Doc quickly glances at me then says, “It’s possible that you ruptured a blood vessel or something as violently as you’re throwing up. We’ll get you sorted out, just hold on, Mongrel.”
Like I have a choice at this point since my body has taken on a life of its own.
We pull into the parking lot at the emergency room entrance, and Gretchen slips out to get a wheelchair for me since there’s no fucking way I can possibly walk.
Doc and Gretchen push me inside and I see that Rio as well as Issy are now there as they slip into the SUV and move it into a parking spot.
A nurse sees us walking in and says, “Dr. Brooks, come this way. Dr. Albertson is already here and is set up in Room Four.” She buzzes us through to the back where the treatment rooms are located and before I can blink, I find myself in a hospital bed with no idea on how I managed to get there.
“Dr. Albertson,” I slur out. I’m so weak at this point that everything is an effort. “Why?”
“Occasionally, a patient will have a reaction like yours. There’s no rhyme or reason for it at all,” Dr. Albertson replies as he slips on some nitrile gloves.
“I’m going to go ahead and remove all this bluster and check the incision sites since we’re only a few hours away from when it would be taken off anyhow.
Then, we’ll get you hooked up with an IV so I can give you some anti-nausea meds as well as fluids. ”
“But I took… took the pill like Doc said,” I manage to relay.
“He explained that to me, and normally that would have done the trick. It could be that you reacted to the anesthesia, but we’ll likely never know.
You could also be having an allergic reaction to the pain medication, so I’ll be changing that as well.
I will say that the injury you had was badly inflamed, so it’s possible that the surgery ramped that up as well. ”
“Used… ice cooler,” I mumble as he quickly unwraps all the bandages until there’s nothing left except the gauze over the three keyholes. Turning my head, I can see the swelling as well as Dr. Albertson’s concerned expression.
“What’s wrong?” I manage to ask through my stammer.
“I expected some swelling due to how it looked when I operated, but this seems to be more than usual,” he replies, gently cleaning the incision sites.
He then looks at Doc and says, “Go ahead and get his IV started, I’m going to put in orders for a broad-spectrum antibiotic, the anti-nausea meds, and fluids, just to be on the safe side. ”
“Maybe Gretchen should do the IV,” Doc teases. “You know us doctors don’t have the gentlest touch.”
“Move outta my way, Doc,” Gretchen snaps, slipping a pair of nitrile gloves on as she approaches me.
She looks down at the table and turns my right arm over to check my veins.
“God, it’s like arm porn,” she murmurs, gently thumping a vein on the inside of my elbow.
“Even though you’re dehydrated as hell, they’re showing up loud and proud. ”
I honestly don’t care as long as they make it all stop.
Groaning, I watch as she deftly inserts the needle and before I know it, the IV is waiting for everything that Dr. Albertson has ordered and the nurse has gone to get.
It feels like it takes her forever to come back, but right now, time is somewhat fluid.
While Gretchen gets everything attached, I pay attention to what Dr. Albertson and Doc are now doing, since they’ve got another rolling tray with surgical stuff on it.
“What now?” I question as coolness pumps into my right arm. It feels odd to say, but the nausea is already backing off.
“Now, I’ll do another nerve block,” Dr. Albertson advises as he slips a fresh pair of gloves on. “I’m not going to admit you… yet … but you’ll be hanging out here until I’m confident that you’re rehydrated, the nausea is gone, and we’ve got your pain under control.”
“Okay. I’m putty in your hands, doc,” I manage to quip.
I mean, what else can I say? No? Not likely since it’s the first time in what feels like hours that I’m not throwing up.
My throat is still on fire, and I must grimace because Doc suddenly says, “We need to look at his throat, Mark, because he started bleeding the last time he threw up. Wanna make sure it’s nothing serious. ”
“I’ll get Dr. Barlowe to come in and examine him since he’s a GI doc.
It’s probably due to the violence of the vomiting, but while he’s here, we might as well confirm my theory.
Mr. Shepherd, you’ll be going home with stronger pain medication so that we get ahead of the pain, then it’ll be titrated down to a normal dose. ”
He gives me a shot of something before he does the nerve block, and it’s lights out for me.