9. Chapter Nine
Chapter Nine
Kat
She nodded once. I nodded back, then scooped up my plexi-cast, carefully cradled my paper towel covered hand to my chest with my sling-bound other hand, and squeezed past Henry.
I thanked every god out there that he didn’t stop me, even though I could hear he was talking to me.
I couldn’t respond. I just need to get to the medical center.
This was bad. In every which way, it was bad. And I was so very close to passing out.
I made it though, even though I thought I could hear Henry behind me. Becca must’ve stayed with the kids. I ran up to the desk, and was possibly a bit dramatic. But I was freaking out.
“Please, I need some help. I-I spilled tea with sugar and milk on… and now…” I trailed off, breaking down into sobs.
Please don’t need to re-open it, please.
Please, please. I hiccupped I was sobbing so hard.
She ushered me into the back immediately, trying to say soothing things, but I couldn’t hear what they were.
“Kat!” I heard from the doorway. The PA paused, but I just shook my head. We kept going. And I was shortly sitting on a gurney, shaking, having left my jacket in the conference room, talking to a doctor.
“Okay, Kat. We are going to need to get these stitches reopened and get in there cleaned out. There’s too much of a chance of infection with these types of wounds.
The surgical opening should be fine, though, with some topical cleaning and a round of IV antibiotics,” he stated matter-of-factly like he hadn’t just given me the worst news ever. I nodded, the tears still flowing.
“We do recommend the hospital, only because you should really be under general while this is done,” he pressed. I looked up at him. I couldn’t do that again. I couldn’t. I couldn’t go to the hospital, go under anesthesia, and wake up alone again. I couldn’t. I couldn’t I couldn’t.
“Why do I need to be under anesthesia?” I asked quietly in between sobbing hiccups. Maybe I could… just tough it out?
“It’ll be very painful, Kat. I won’t lie to you.
Now, we could do some lidocaine, but it’s not super recommended in situations such as this.
But the pain is the only reason we recommend general.
But we could also give you a morphine drip, I suppose, if you really didn’t want anesthesia… ” he mused. I shook my head. He sighed.
“So, you’re telling me you want to do this here, with no pain medication, and minimal lidocaine… why?” he asked gently. I nodded.
“I have… PTSD…. I haven’t come out of anesthesia well. And I react poorly to pain medication,” I whispered. He sighed again, but agreed.
“I really, highly suggest you reconsider the pain meds. We’ll be keeping you here for the night for observation anyway, plus you’ll be getting two rounds of IV antibiotics over the course of the next ten hours or so.
So, you’d be in a safe place if anything went wrong,” he explained.
I shook my head anyway. He started pulling things out, popping his head out into the hallway to ask for a few things.
“Now. Do you have anyone you want here with you? Or at least to know what’s going on? And would you like to change your clothes? You’re covered in tea. And…” he trailed off, sighing.
“And, I have a very worried driver in the waiting room asking about you. Now, Sandy told me you ignored him coming back here. Would you like me to ask him to leave?” he asked gently.
I looked down. I wasn’t sure. I… didn’t know.
I wanted him here so badly. But he needed to GO. And I didn’t want him to see.
“He doesn’t need to leave,” I whispered. I just wouldn’t have him come back here. It seemed a little wrong somehow to make him worry and not even be near enough to know I was okay. He nodded, then Sandy the PA stuck her head in and whispered to the doctor.
“It seems your attentive driver brought you some clothes to change into. And your phone. And ironically, it looks like, a hot tea. Do you want them?” he asked carefully.
Tears welled in my eyes again, but I nodded.
That would be wonderful. But Henry was taking care of me again.
I was getting very tired of telling him to stop.
I changed very, VERY slowly, and very, VERY carefully.
He’d brought me a pair of his sweatpants and one of his hoodies.
It made sense, since he had clothes here in his room.
They were miles too big, but that made me happy and cozy in the moment.
I got the pants rolled up and cinched successfully, and I just snuggled into the hoodie.
The only thing of mine I was still wearing was my thong, since even my bra was soaked in tea.
It was better this way anyway. If I had to stay the night, I wasn’t sleeping in a goddamn bra.
The hospital bed would be shitty enough as it was.
But before the doctor could come back in, my phone rang. Of course it did.
It was him. Of course, it was him. Who the fuck else would it be? Well, I couldn’t be THAT big of a bitch. I answered.
“Hello?” I said, quietly but calmly. That made one of us.
Breathless, he said, “Kat, Kat! I-what’s going on?
What’s wrong? They said it would be a while when I asked how long you would be, so I brought you some clothes since you’re soaked and you’re always cold and I know it might be a little too soon but I figured you’d like a cuppa, and I-“ I giggled, which caused him to stop his panicked monologue.
“What?” he asked. I giggled again, realizing it was probably not a good presentation of my mental state.
“You said cuppa,” I said, giggling again. I heard him take a deep breath.
“I did, Kat. I-yeah I did. So, I take it you’re okay? Will you tell me what’s going on? It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me but… I’m just worried, Kat. You were freaking out and… I didn’t like that,” he finished softly. It sounded like he’d wanted to say more, but held back.
“I… I have some stitches they need to reopen to clean and make sure I don’t get an infection.
And I have to stay the night, for observation and to get a couple rounds of IV antibiotics,” I landed on, speaking quietly.
He was silent for a moment, but I could hear the PA at the front desk talking in the background.
“So, you want me to go, yeah?” he asked softly, sounding…
sad. Really sad. And suddenly, it seemed so fucking stupid to make him sad as hell out there while I was scared as hell in here.
I knew that I had been giving him whiplash between doing what I should and doing what I wanted, and Andrew’s words just kept playing over and over in my head.
But fuck Andrew. And fuck not taking a tiny bit of comfort when I was scared and hurting and alone.
“Could-do you-what are you doing tonight?” I finally asked, sounding damn pathetic even to my own ears. I sat down on the chair since I couldn’t get back up on the gurney on my own.
“I’m doing whatever you’ll let me, tonight,” he said softly. I… okay. That was… I didn’t deserve that. But I’d take it.
“Is there any chance you could find a blanket somewhere, then come back here? I’m still cold,” I admitted, a tear slipping free again. I was ALREADY mad at myself for leaning on him again. But I was so glad I wouldn’t have to do this alone.
“Of course, Kat. It’ll only take me a minute. I’ll be right back. Do you want anything else?” he offered quickly. No, just you.
“No, thank you,” I whispered. He quickly hung up.
The doctor came back in, and I let him know Henry was okay to come back and join me. He looked relieved.
“That’s good. It’ll be easier for you if someone’s here with you.
Plus… I think Sandy might’ve killed him if he sat out there asking about you every five minutes all night.
And it is REALLY frowned upon for us to kill the drivers,” he joked.
I smiled. That sounded about right. I really wasn’t surprised.
“I know I’m already being a difficult patient, but can I have a minute with him when he comes back?” I asked, knowing Henry was going to be upset when he saw my wrist and hand. Really upset. The doctor nodded.
“Of course. Just pop your head out when you’re ready, Sandy will go ahead and send him back when he gets back,” he offered, completely accommodating. There were some perks to a private medical facility, it seemed.
Now I just needed to figure out what the hell I was going to tell Henry. Because my wrist was ugly as hell.
And he’d want to know how it happened.
And I couldn’t tell him the truth.
This should be fun.