© Copyright 2004 by silli_artie@hotmail.com
This work may not be reposted or redistributed without the prior
express written permission of the author.
A work of fiction, meant for adults. Read something else if you are
not an adult, or are offended by stories with sexual content. Then
again, if all you’re looking for is in-out, in-out, in-out, you
should probably read something else. I welcome constructive comments.
Enjoy.
We took Dr. Richards’ prescription, building a “normal” life, if that includes having Barbara taking me body and soul. We built a routine, which included setting the alarm at least 45 minutes early in the morning for snuggling together and making love.
The contents of Barbara’s abode arrived. We installed some in the loft and stored the rest in the back rooms of the dojo. Our first argument was about furniture. We made up that night, again the next morning, and that evening.
I received a number of our West-Coast Aikido luminaries, and agreed to test Patti for her Black Belt and Abiko for advancement to third dan. Although not spoken out loud, it was understood I’d be receiving my 5th degree black belt. That happened on a rainy Saturday in late October. Everyone advanced.
Barbara worked on revising her books, and at the University. She also threw herself into our new nest, rebuilding the Collins house. After our furniture argument, she consulted more with me, but it was clearly her deal. Through Ralph we lined up a contractor who expected the work to take six months. Barbara and I privately agreed that we’d run over 50% in either time or money, and would rather it be on time. I agreed to pay for the exterior work and central stuff -- heating, wiring and the like -- and she’d pay for the interior work.
I settled with the insurance company and sold the lot where my old house had been, getting substantially more for it than I’d expected. I was told the site had excellent “feng shui.” I knew the 888 street address was considered a good omen. Barbara sold her flat in Georgetown.
Those sales led to an interesting incident at school. Barbara and I usually have lunch with Annie, Stuart LaPorta, and Samantha. A while after Barbara and I sat in our usual spot one day, Annie and Stuart arrived, both looking on top of the world -- actually, I think they take turns as to who was on top. When they sat down, they told us the cluster project was on -- they’d received two anonymous donations totaling a little over a hundred thousand dollars. While they jabbered excitedly about more and faster nodes I snuck a side-glance to Barbara, and was surprised to see her doing the same to me. We held hands under the table and managed to suppress our laughter until we got back to my office. My donation had been 52 grand. I guess we do think alike!
When I asked her if that had been a good idea, what with the expenses of remodeling the Collins house, she gave me another shock -- she hadn’t sold just her townhouse, she owned and sold the whole property -- twelve units! Our subsequent conversation taught me that while I considered myself well-off financially, my future bride was quite well off indeed; she also reminded me that she was an only child and would be inheriting everything.
The French were not able to “completely confirm” that Denise was one of the people who died in the mortar attack. They gave us what I suspected was a statistical run-around; I discussed it with a University colleague. His detached conclusion was that they weren’t sure, and would never be.
The integration of Hammond’s U.S. and Alain’s European organizations continued smoothly. While I still hadn’t met my future father-in-law, I spoke to him on the phone a number of times. We also spoke with Hammond, and with Alain, who now treated both of us as if they were our uncles.
The dojo was doing nicely, with a growing Pilates following, and crossover among the Pilates and Yoga classes.
We also spoke with Gail and Paul. They survived the hurricane with minimal damage. Paul updated me on the mediation deal -- the French side was all for me, but the Japanese side thought I was too young for the job! Both sides were still arguing, but from what I gathered, they’d been arguing for years, so that wasn’t anything new.
Tuesday the week before Thanksgiving -- Annie, Stuart, Sam, Barbara and I had lunch together, as we often did. We were done with lunch, and I saw people circling with full trays.
“I think someone would appreciate the warm seats,” I told our crowd.
The place was packed, and as usual tables had been moved around. There wasn’t much space between where I was sitting and the next table. I picked up my tray and moved through the space easily. Next week the place would be deserted; I’d already told students in my classes that attendance next week was “optional;” a substantial number had already approached me and advised me they would be away from school.
A bit in front of me, I spied a fork on the floor. Holding my tray up with one hand, I bent down awkwardly to pick it up.
And someone slammed into me, blindsiding me, hard.
I heard and felt a sickening tear and a pop from my left knee. I went down, in pain, my tray flying.
Sam shrieked. Barbara grabbed me. “What’s the matter?”
I held my left knee, not wanting to move it. It felt bad, really bad. “I tore something in my knee. The address book on my computer -- Wes McLellan -- call him, and Carson!”
“Can you walk?” Stuart asked.
“No, and I’m not going to try,” I told him.
“I’ll get help,” Annie called out.
“Don’t worry, Roger -- we’ll take care of you,” Barbara told me.
Pete, one of the trainers from the Phys Ed Department was nearby and recognized me. He did something that hurt like hell, testing my knee.
“Know what your ACL is?” he asked.
I know I made a face -- anterior cruciate ligament, the ligament responsible for providing stability to the knee. “Runs from the tibia to the femur in the center of the knee,” I replied.
“Right you are,” he said, “and I’m pretty damn sure you tore it in half.”
I let my arm flop over my eyes. “Wes was right,” I mumbled in pain.
Pete and Barbara kept the school security people from injuring me more. Barbara called Doctor Carson’s office and got things rolling.
Eventually I was transported to the Emergency Room of the University Hospital. Since I was conscious, insured, and neither bleeding nor in imminent danger of dying, I was stripped, parked in a room, and ignored save for the curious souls who came by to have me repeat my tale.
A sleep-deprived looking chap wandered by after a while. I repeated my story for the nth time.
He tugged half-heartedly at my knee. “It’s a sprain.”
Barbara told him, “We have a specialist coming in.”
“Oh, who?” he asked drolly.
“Doctor Wes McLellan,” she told him.
He looked at both of us, muttered, “Yeah -- and I’m the tooth fairy,” and walked out.
Barbara looked really pissed and started to go after him.
“Wait,” I told her. “Did Wes say he’d be in?”
“Yes,” she replied. “Both he and Doctor Carson said they’d be right over. Why didn’t he believe me?”
I shook my head. “If he said he’d be here, he will. Wes is probably the best orthopedic surgeon on this part of the planet -- he spends his time on professional athletes, rarely touching mere mortals. He’s been coming to the dojo since I opened, his wife has done yoga there for about as long, and I taught all three of his kids aikido before they went away to college.”
“Sensei, I knew one day we’d meet like this,” Wes said as he came into the room a while later.
I managed a smile and shook his hand. “You’ve told me that,” I said.
“Let’s see how good a job you did, old friend.”
He tugged and twisted on both my legs. I closed my eyes and put an arm over my eyes, focusing on breath.
“Well if it isn’t Doctor Tooth Fairy,” Barbara called out.
I opened my eyes to see the guy from earlier standing in the doorway.
Barbara proceeded to tell Wes what had transpired.
Wes “invited” the young doctor into the hallway. Carson arrived. I couldn’t hear all that was going on, other than Wes professionally readjusting the kid’s attitude.
They came back into the room.
“Sensei,” Wes asked, “Can you put up with more? Two or three minutes?”
“Sure, Wes, and call me Roger,” I told him.
Wes taught the young doctor how to do a knee exam the right way. He even had Carson on the floor, and they tugged on his knees for a while as Wes explained that I was an elite athlete -- a 5th degree black belt who had practiced yoga and martial arts for most of my life, and far more limber than the average person off the street.
I felt better until Wes mentioned he’d have to use different techniques when he rebuilt my knee to make sure I recovered to my prior flexibility and range of motion.
“Sensei, have they given you anything for pain?” Wes asked.
“You mean to lessen the pain? Nope,” I told him.
“Doctor, a word, please,” Carson said.
The three retired to the hallway.
“My checkered past coming back to haunt me,” I muttered.
Barbara held my hand and put her other hand on my shoulder.
The three doctors returned.
Wes looked at me and sighed, shaking his head. “Sensei, you’ve had a wilder life than I thought.” He glanced to Carson, then continued. “Here’s the plan. I’m going to wrap you temporarily. Doctor Carson will take you and Barbara to his office while I swing by mine to pick up the proper brace. I’m going to put you in a rigid brace overnight, load you with medication, and at seven tomorrow morning I’m going to do an arthroscopic examination of your knee. I suspect, as you do, a ruptured ACL. If that’s the case, I’ll repair it.”
I nodded. “That sounds like the easy part -- what’s the hard part?”
Wes nodded with a slight smile. “We’ll start rehab Thursday or Friday morning, and you’ll be in active rehab for ten weeks at least. Sensei, if I find what I expect I’ll find, you’re going to be wearing a limited mobility brace for at least four months. After that, it’s a different brace for another six to eight months. You will not step onto a mat for at least six months, more likely eight. When you do, it will be with a brace. And if you try, earlier, or without a brace, you run the serious risk of permanently damaging your knee beyond even my ability to repair.”
I looked up to Barbara. She squeezed my hand.
“Did anyone save that fork?” I asked her.
She managed a smile, shaking her head.
“Wes,” I said, “I’ll do my best.”
He nodded. “I know you will, Sensei. I expect nothing less from you.”
He wrapped my leg and knee, immobilizing it. Barbara and I rode to Carson’s office in his Mercedes; I had plenty of room in the back seat.
“Why your place?” I asked as we pulled away from the hospital.
“We’re concerned that you may be sensitized to some drugs. We need to proceed cautiously. I gave Doctor McLellan the overview -- one of our people will be handling anesthesia for you tomorrow at the surgical center he uses.”
As I’d thought... “Barbara, can I have your phone?”
“What for?” she asked.
“I need to start making calls.”
“I’ve spoken with Patti and Janice at the dojo. Patti is calling Vicki and Abiko. At school I’ve spoken with Herb, Samantha, and Annie, so your department has been notified and your classes are covered. Did I miss someone?”
I closed my eyes. I hurt like hell. “No, thank you dear.”
At Carson’s office, which was all too familiar to me, they used me for a human pincushion. Now my knee hurt like hell and the spots on my forearms they’d been using itched like hell.
“Well?” I asked the doctors, Carson, McLellan, and a young woman.
The woman spoke. “Doctor Hawthorne, your earlier experience has sensitized you to a number of common agents, including local anesthetics. That means we’ll perform tomorrow’s procedure using gaseous anesthesia. I’ll also accompany you home later to give you a painkiller and monitor your response to be sure we don’t have any problems with that.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” I told her.
“Let’s go, Wes,” I told him.
Carson spoke up. “We’re going to move you for that, and use the same agent we’ll use tomorrow, just to be sure. You’ll only be out for a few minutes.”
Wes said, “It will be easier on both of us, and I can do prep and more checking.”
“I’ll see if we’re set up yet,” the woman said, and left the room.
“Stay with me?” I asked Barbara, holding her hand.
She smiled, grimly. “You’re not getting away from me.”
I looked to Carson. “I need a few minutes of quality time with a toilet first, and I categorically refuse to use a bedpan.”
Barbara said, “I don’t think you need my help for that.”
Wes frowned, pointing a finger at me. “I’m not expecting any problems from you -- you need to listen, and do what I tell you. Got that?”
Before I could speak, Barbara responded. “Don’t worry -- with Angela’s help, he won’t be a problem.”
I glanced up to her. “Yes, dear.”
She patted me on the shoulder. “Just keep saying that, and everything will be fine.”
They let me have my quality time on the can. Then it was back to their own operating theatre, up on the table.
Relieved of my flimsy gown, the woman doctor cleaned spots on my chest and attached electrodes. To my questioning eyebrow, she answered, “We’re using the same procedures we’ll use tomorrow.”
Wired up, the pink mask descended to my face. “Breathe normally.”
I closed my eyes and let it happen.
My throat felt funny as I awoke, disoriented. Pain in my left knee helped reorient me.
“Another minute or two on oxygen,” I was told.
Ace bandages partially covered a metal brace from mid-thigh to mid-calf. That knee wasn’t going anywhere.
“Okay?” Barbara asked.
I nodded. “Water?”
She helped me to a few sips. The doctors were huddling on the other side of the room.
“My throat feels funny,” I told her.
She rubbed my shoulder. “Dee Dee put a tube down your throat.”
“How do you feel, Roger?” Carson asked.
“Can’t move my leg, and I hurt like hell. Other than that, just peachy.”
Wes smiled. “Barbara has the address. We’ll see you at six thirty tomorrow morning, with the main event starting at seven. I anticipate taking an hour and a half to two hours, and keeping you for two hours after that. Barbara will take you home.”
I had a bad thought. “When can I have something to eat?”
Wes thought for a moment. “Oh, tomorrow afternoon won’t be a problem.”
“Wrong -- I had a full lunch before coming over here, and you gassed me without hesitation. I’m going to need something to eat tonight.”
The woman spoke up. “I don’t see any problem with you having a light meal tonight.”
“Thank you,” I told her.
“Let’s get you home,” Barbara said.
The woman stepped closer. “I’ll follow.”
Back to the wheelchair, to Carson’s car, to school where Barbara picked up her car, and then home. I did not feel well.
Barbara wheeled me to the bedroom. The lady doctor helped move me to the bed. I could see a little extra color in her face when she touched the spread.
Barbara helped me get settled, especially fluffing the bedclothes around my non-mobile leg. This was going to take getting used to.
I turned and the woman doctor was holding a syringe. My heart started racing; I flipped around in bed to Barbara.
I caught myself, and tried to let go and relax on to the bed. I closed my eyes and focused on the breath. My heart was still pounding, and I could feel muscles in my shoulders twitching, a sign I had it bad.
“Doctor, give us a minute, please?” Barbara requested.
I twitched when Barbara touched me, even though I expected it. She held me close, and after a minute or so, started singing softly. Even with that, it was hard to let go, with the entire left side of my body throbbing.
Eventually I felt the bite of a needle in my arm. Barbara held me, and the pain went away.
I was aware of the throbbing again, and of pressure in my bladder.
There was just enough light in the room for me to see the wheelchair way over by the door -- a good place for it, right? Out of the way? I sat up without causing myself too much additional pain. I prodded my knee through the bandages; I could imagine how swollen it was.
Oh well -- I moved to the edge of the bed and lowered myself down. Once on the floor I scooted on my ass to the bathroom and to the toilet. Success!
Getting off the can wasn’t as easy -- all my “leverage” surfaces were slick, and I slipped the last few inches, landing on my ass harder than I’d intended. Now my knee and ass hurt, and my stomach was making its displeasure known. Well, my stomach I could do something about.
Getting into the wheelchair was easy, once I figured I needed to lock the wheels. My left leg stuck out due to the brace; I adjusted the support on the chair to match.
Opening the bedroom door, I heard voices, a number of them. I was naked save for the bandages and brace. Wheeling to the bathroom, I got “dressed” with a towel over my lap.
Barbara, Samantha, our yoga instructors Bob and Donna, Abiko and Patti, Vicki, Janice, and Wes were sitting around the dining room table. Conversation stopped as people spotted me.
“I’m hungry,” I announced.
Wes shook his head. “This is going to be an adventure; I can tell.”
The others chuckled, commiserating with him.
“How? ...” Barbara started in, but stopped. She got up and gave me a kiss. “I’ll fix you some soup -- how does that sound?”
“Very good. I love you.”
She sighed and shook her head.
I wheeled to the table. “Hey, aren’t those Sea Hawks great?” I asked the crowd.
Most of them shook their heads. Wes shook his as well, but seemed to get an idea, and nodded, smiling.
“Has my fate been decided?” I asked the gathered notables.
“We haven’t even set the wedding date yet,” Barbara called from the kitchen.
That got laughter.
“Wes,” I told him, “I promise not to go to the dojo until you tell me. I promise I will wear a brace, or whatever you direct, for as long as you tell me. I will do what you tell me, but I do reserve the right to be a pain in the ass at times.” I held out my right hand.
He shook my hand. “Remember, you said that in front of witnesses.”
I nodded. “Must be the drugs -- or lack of them.”
“In a lot of pain?”
I shrugged. “Enough to wake me. I’ll make it.”
He put a hand on my wrist, checking my pulse, I guess. “Roger, tomorrow and Thursday will be rough, but we’ll keep you medicated. You’ll notice an improvement Friday. Oh, I want to give you some more drugs -- I’ll be right back.”
“Abiko, Patti, Vicky, what are we going to do at the dojo?” I asked.
Vicki replied, “Us, not you -- we’re surveying classes the rest of the week. Next week will be light; just the hard-core. Longer term, we’ll probably consolidate Aikido classes, expanding Pilates and Yoga. We’re fine for the introductory and intermediate students; we’ll really miss you for the more advanced Aikido classes.”
Good summary. “When will Janice be ready for her brown?” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Janice twitch and sit up.
Patti grinned, and so did Abiko. “March at the latest,” Abiko said, “and black in the fall if she wants it enough.”
“She has a good eye -- use her,” I said.
“Oh, we are,” Patti told me.
I saw Wes talking to Barbara at the stove.
“So does he, if he shows up regularly,” I muttered about Wes.
Wes returned with his bag, and pulled up a chair.
He looked at me and shook his head. “Sensei, Roger, I’m concerned.”
“Roger, please Wes -- about what?”
“I talked with Carson, and with Barbara, and I’ll speak with Doctor Richards tomorrow morning. We’re going to fit you with a pump for pain management.” He glanced to Barbara. “And I’ve told Barbara that if you don’t use it, she should. There is no reason for you to experience pain. I run into this with macho athletes all the time, and it’s not worth it -- toughing it out only puts you under more stress, impairing your recovery.”
I nodded. “Thanks, Wes -- I’ll think of it as being on vacation.”
Barbara brought me a bowl of soup, and a glass of ginger ale. “And you’re on vacation until after Thanksgiving, at least,” she told me.
Wes dug in his bag and gave me a handful of pills. “Antibiotics and anti-inflammatories. Gives us more margin, even though arthroscopic work is minimally invasive. You got some already, and I’ll give you an injection for the pain when you’re ready for bed again.”
I glanced at the clock -- a little past eight. “Isn’t it getting past your bed time, doctor? I want you very well rested tomorrow morning.”
He managed a smile. “Dee Dee is the one you want rested -- I’ll be cutting your knee, but she’s the one passing gas and keeping you alive.”
I had my soup. Wes had spent some time with Bob and Donna, getting a better idea of the flexibility we had. Responding to a question from Vicki, Wes outlined what he’d do in the morning.
He smiled and looked at me. “Sensei always tells us to do our best in whatever we do. I know Sensei practices what he preaches, so I fully expect that he’s done a first-class job in blowing out his knee. My job tomorrow morning is to do my best to restore his knee with as close to his full range of motion as possible.”
That got amused agreement, even from me.
Barbara pulled a chair up next to me. “How are you doing?”
I shook my head; now wasn’t the time for bravado. “Forked. I’m tired, and I hurt.”
“Let’s get you back to bed,” she said softly.
Surprisingly, Samantha got up, as well as Wes. The four of us went into the bedroom, Barbara leading and turning on the lights, while Samantha pushed me.
Wes whistled. “Sensei, I didn’t know you were such a sybarite,” he exclaimed, touching the bedspread and pushing on the bed.
“Another of my secrets -- not only am I human, but a hedonist as well.”
Wes looked at the two other pieces of furniture, our chaise lounge, and my reclining reading chair. He nodded approvingly. “Both of these will work -- comfortable with support. Okay, one more trip to the bathroom while we get the bed ready for you.”
Sam wheeled me in and helped maneuver me to the can. Brushing my teeth sitting in a wheelchair wasn’t easy.
Parked next to the bed, I started to push out of the chair.
“Roger, hold on,” Wes interrupted. “Let’s have Sam and Barbara do this, as they’re be taking care of you.”
Sam too? News to me.
Wes taught the three of us how to move me to the bed, and from the bed to the chair. Once back in bed, he showed them how to put cushions under my legs to provide support but not affect circulation.
“You want to cover your eyes?” Wes asked as he opened his bag.
Must be getting out a syringe. “No, I’m okay now.”
He looked at me. “I understand you had a problem this afternoon, though.”
“Yes, I did. It surprised me as well.”
“We’ll talk to Angela about it,” Barbara added.
He measured fluid into a syringe. “This will take you to about four or five in the morning. Once your lights are out, I’m giving you another injection to control swelling. We’ll see you at six thirty.” He looked at me. “And even though I’ve done this many, many times before, I will be well rested tomorrow. Roger, there’s no need to worry.”
“I trust you, Wes -- and I’m glad you’re here.”
He found a vein and gave me the injection. “Always expected to meet up with you in an E. R., but I thought it would be from something far more exciting than picking up a fork.”
“Surprise, surprise,” I told him.
“Hold him, Barbara,” Wes whispered as he stood up.
She held me as the drugs kicked in.
It was dark when the alarm went off. My knee was throbbing, not too bad compared to yesterday. I started to move, but Barbara silenced the alarm and moved closer, holding me to a nipple.
She spoke softly, with emotion, telling me I wasn’t going to get away from her.
When the alarm went off again, she moved away with a sigh. When she opened the bedroom door, light streamed in. “Sam?” she called.
Samantha came in; she must have spent the night in the guest room. The ladies helped me to the chair and to the can. I asked for my shaver.
“Why?” Barbara asked.
“I’m going in shaved, with my face washed, and teeth brushed,” I told them.
After taking care of bathroom business, we returned to the bedroom. I got “dressed” in a heavy terry bathrobe, socks, and slippers. As Sam put on my socks and slippers, Barbara brushed my hair, singing and sending me floating again.
I think that was a good idea; it made it easier to get me into her car. It was only raining lightly, and we were able to use a covered area next to the clinic entrance.
I got to use the loo again. A nurse took my blood pressure and temperature before exchanging my clothing for a plastic wristband.
Wes, Carson, and the lady doctor came in.
“How are you doing this morning?” Wes asked.
“Pretty good -- not as much pain as yesterday, but I’ll bet you’re going to fix that.”
Wes smiled. “We work to minimize that. Nervous?”
I squeezed Barbara’s hand. “Not as long as Barbara is here.”
Wes looked to her. “We should get you ready, if you still want to be in the room with us. You’ll have a chair to sit in, but some parts are not going to be easy to watch. It’s up to you.”
Barbara squeezed my hand. “What do I need to do?”
“The first step is to let go of his hand so we can get you gowned up,” Wes told her.
“Don’t worry, Sensei, we’ll take good care of you,” he told me.
They wheeled me into an operating theatre.
Wes and the woman doctor, she must be Dee Dee, joined us. She wired me up.
“We’re not going to unwrap you until you’re sedated,” Wes told me and the rest of his team. “Then I want to check range of motion in both legs before we proceed.”
Barbara came in, gowned, wearing a mask and a cover over her hair like the others. She squeezed my shoulder, then sat down in the chair next to me.
“I love you,” I told her. I looked at the crowd. “Let’s go.”
The plastic mask approached. “Relax and breathe normally.”
I looked at Barbara and took a deep breath. Two more breaths and she faded.
I blinked, cautiously. My heart jumped when I saw a butterfly needle in the back of my right hand, but Barbara was at my side. She smiled, leaned down, and kissed me.
“How do you feel?” she asked.
“How did it go?” was my reply.
She shook her head. “You did a very good job -- Wes was impressed.”
“I can’t feel anything,” I told her.
She nodded.
“No, I mean I can’t feel anything in my left leg somewhere below mid-thigh.”
Carson appeared. “That’s because Dee Dee gave you a nerve block. Here, we can dispose of the I. V. We’ve learned to monitor and control blood sugar levels to minimize shock. The block should wear off in an hour or two, and when it does, you’ll feel plenty, believe me. I’ll get Wes -- he wants to talk to you.”
When he left, Barbara leaned over and kissed me again. “Roger, you pick very good people.”
I smiled. “I picked you, I think.”
Wes strolled up and flipped the sheet off me. I had a different colored brace, more bandages, and a little box mounted on the brace.
“Move your left toes and ankle,” he told me. I did it, even though I couldn’t feel anything.
“Good. Can you feel this?” It looked like he was running something along the sole of my left foot.
“Not a thing.”
“Good,” he repeated. We did the same thing on the right side, but I could feel it.
He sat on the edge of the bed. “Roger, you did a good job -- your ACL was completely ruptured. I’ll return the pieces as a souvenir. Rather than use a cadaver donor, I harvested a portion of your patellar tendon to replace the ACL -- fewer issues that way. The remaining surfaces and tissues of your knee are in very good shape, so aside from the length of your recovery, which will seem nearly infinite, I’m confident of a good outcome.”
Samantha appeared, and Wes ran the three of us through the use of the pump. It delivered doses of painkiller through a needle placed under the bandages. Any of us could hit the button when needed, and it was set to deliver a dose six hours after the last time it was pressed, whether I liked it or not. The nerve block should wear off in an hour or so, and he recommended starting the pump in about forty five minutes.
“Any questions?” he asked us.
“How long am I like this? How do I shower?”
Wes chuckled a bit. “Roger, you’re like this until Monday, at least. You’re not going back to school until after Thanksgiving. By then you’ll be on crutches; don’t worry, initial recovery is quite rapid. As to bathing,” he gave sideways glances at Barbara and Samantha and gave me a sly smile, “it’s sponge baths for a while, but I imagine that could have its pleasant moments...”
“Oh, we’re going to take very good care of you, Roger,” Samantha growled.
“See? Things are looking up already,” Wes told me. “I’ll check in tomorrow morning, and see you tomorrow afternoon. You know to call me if you have any problems. Ladies, that goes for you as well. Make him behave.”
“Wes, thanks.” I held out my hand, and he shook it. Barbara and Samantha thanked him as well, giving him hugs.
It took us a while to get dressed, checked out, and back to the car. The rain intensified for us as I was loaded in, then lightened up.
At home, I visited the loo again before I moved into bed.
Sam kissed me on the forehead. She told Barbara, “I’ll fix us some lunch.”
My stomach growled. I thought I felt something from my left leg.
“Better hit that button -- hold me, please?” I asked.
She sat next to me, peeling off her top, then reaching for the pump. “Wes said to turn it on,” the thing beeped, “and press the button twice,” two more beeps, “and you should feel it in a minute or so.”
She took off her bra and leaned over me. That I felt right away. Between her and the drugs, I was soon in a fog.
“I’ll leave the door open. I love you,” she told me as she got up.
The drugs from the pump didn’t eliminate the pain, they masked it. I knew it was there in the distance.
I zoned out for a while. I had more soup and carbonated stuff to drink later; something had me slightly nauseated. I tried to rest in my reading chair, but the brace was set just wrong enough so that I couldn’t be comfortable. The chaise was better, especially with cushions under my knees. I wanted my laptop, which was in my office.
I guess the drugs had me scatterbrained -- Barbara convinced me that my office was fine, and they’d pick up things for me in a day or so, but right now I needed to rest. Then she pulled up her top, held me to her, and made the world recede.
Dinner was a blur -- soup, bread, and carbonated stuff to drink. I wondered why the phone hadn’t been ringing -- and Barbara told me she’d been on the phone for a good portion of the afternoon; people were concerned, and relieved that the surgery had gone well.
Back on the chaise in our bedroom, I had a period of relative lucidity. I asked Barbara, “Why is Sam here?”
She sat next to me, holding me close. “She’s here because she wanted to be, and because I asked her to be. Darling, if you fell or we had trouble, I wouldn’t be able to move you on my own. That, and we aren’t going to leave you alone, and Angela thought it was a good idea, and some other reasons besides.
“You talked to Angela?”
“Both of us did, for about an hour this afternoon.”
“And?”
“You’ll find out, don’t worry. We’re taking good care of you.”
I sighed and held her. “Sure this is what you wanted? I don’t feel like a very good catch right now.”
She kissed me on the head. “Chaque crapaud a sa crapaute,” she said.
Every boy-toad has his girl-toad. “I thought you didn’t speak French,” I said in astonishment.
She gave me a strange look. “Why would you ever think that?”
“I seem to recall you reciting a list of languages, and French was not one of them.”
She shrugged. “Oh -- it’s not one of my professional languages, but everyone speaks French, dear -- even you.” She kissed me on the head and held me again.
“Let’s get you ready for bed,” she told me some time later.
Sam helped, and I’m glad she was there, even though I was cranky.
“What’s the matter, Roger?” Barbara asked as they settled me into bed.
I sighed. “I don’t know -- it’s not pain, I just feel like shit, all twitchy and beat up, and I don’t think more drugs are the answer.”
“Close your eyes, darling -- we can help,” Barbara told me.
I did, laying there. How many months of this? I remembered the cartoon figure of the little guy with the immense screw going through him, captioned, “Work diligently and with integrity and you shall receive your reward.” I try to clean up someone else’s mess, and I get forked.
The bed moved a bit; perfume, soft touches. Soft voices from both sides of me, Barbara on my right, Sam on my left. I tried, but I couldn’t follow what they were saying, just bits and pieces. They carried me into softness, so relaxed once more, taking turns holding me.
The middle of the night, Barbara getting up quickly woke me.
“It’s okay,” she whispered.
A soft touch -- Sam? She turned my head and held me, whispering again.
Morning light -- I had to pee. Barbara asleep on one side of me, Sam on the other. Let’s hear it for big beds. But which one to wake?
Sam moved up on an elbow, smiling.
“I need to pee,” I told her.
She sighed, but still smiled. Helping me up woke Barbara. It was easier with both of them helping.
My appetite was better. We had breakfast, and Barbara took off, telling Sam, “I’ll swing by school before I pick her up.” She gave me a kiss and said, “Behave.”
I was on the couch. “Pick who up?” I asked Sam.
She smiled, approaching with a sway in her hips and pulling up her top as she sat next to me.
“Relax, Roger -- I’ve got you.”
I took a deep breath and let my eyes close.
Our reverie was interrupted by the phone.
Sam got it. “Oh, hi doctor. Yes, he’s up. Oh, pretty good. Here he is.”
She handed me the phone.
“Good morning,” I said.
“Is it?” Wes asked. “How did you sleep? How are you doing today?”
I pulled Sam closer. “Frustrated, but okay,” I told him.
“Oh? Explain.”
“I slept great, but I woke up between two beautiful women and couldn’t do anything about it.”
He laughed. So did Sam. “Give it time, Roger. How’s the pain?”
“Oh, it’s there. And yes, we’ve been using the pump, and I think my past is helping me.”
“Doctor Richards? Hypnosis?”
“Yup. Don’t know if Richards or Carson told you, but in my earlier escapade, I was catheterized for a while. They pulled the catheter without drugs, and I didn’t feel a damn thing.”
“I’m impressed! I’ll see you around three, then -- are you eating?”
“Some. I’m a little nauseous.”
“Side-effect of the pain meds. We can fix that this afternoon.”
“Okay, which office? Yours or Carson’s?”
“This is a house call -- we’re coming to you.”
“How quaint! See you at three.”
I handed the phone back to Sam.
“You are doing better today,” she said with a smile.
I opened my arms. “When I have someone to hold, and someone to hold me.”
Who needs more of an invitation?
Sounds of the door opening -- Barbara was back, and Angela Richards was with her.
Angela walked up to me, tut-tutting like a mother hen, shaking her head.
“How are you doing, Roger?” she asked.
“Better,” I told her. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
She sighed as she sat next to me. “I have to be in San Francisco for a conference this weekend, so it wasn’t too much bother to come out early. That, and Barbara asked. You had a bit of a problem the other day, I understand.”
I nodded. “Yeah -- I turned, saw a woman holding a syringe, and freaked.”
Barbara added, “And that was without knowing her name is Denise.”
I took a deep breath. “I’ll stick to Dee Dee.”
Angela patted me on the arm. “We have some things to work on.” She turned to Barbara. “After lunch?”
We had lunch. Barbara had stopped by school and picked up my laptop. She also picked up some other things, including a plastic drop cloth and two beach towels. “Later,” was all I was told. I let them know Wes would be by at three.
“Getting uncomfortable?” Angela asked. It was about one thirty.
I nodded. “I need a trip to the loo and then to bed for a while.”
She nodded, and the other two ladies helped me.
The bedcovers flipped down, I was installed in the middle of the bed again.
“How did things work last night?” Angela asked us.
Barbara said, “Very well, I think. Roger?”
I glanced at Sam and Barbara, then to Angela. “If you mean the two of them in stereo, yes, that worked extremely well.”
Angela smiled, pulling up a chair. “Why don’t we start with that, then.”
I closed my eyes. Barbara and Sam started in again, and this time it was so easy to let go.
I was in an underground grotto, so relaxed. I put a hand into the water; it was cool and a beautiful shade of blue, glowing, giving off a light of its own. I knew it was healing water. I moved, sliding into the pool up to my waist. It was cool, refreshing, invigorating and relaxing at the same time. I could feel the cool, blue water helping me heal. I could feel it cooling my knee, reducing the swelling, easing the pain, speeding healing.
I looked up and Barbara was there, She held my head, letting me float in the healing pool, helping me feel how it was healing me. Samantha joined us, doing the same thing. I was floating in a healing pool, rocking gently in the water. All I had to do was relax and get better. No worries, just peace, comfort, and healing.
We had to leave the grotto, but only for a while. I’d be back, I knew.
I drifted up, opening my eyes. God, I felt so good, so relaxed.
I looked around -- Wes was there, with a young black woman.
Wes nodded his head. “Impressive. How are you doing, Roger?”
I sighed again, lifting my head. Sam put a pillow under me, lifting me a bit. “Great. You must be here to fix that.”
He shook his head, smiling. “I make house calls, and that’s what I get...” He glanced to the young woman. “Roger, this is Maxine -- she’ll be helping you with physical therapy.”
I held out a hand. “Maxine, I’m truly sorry to meet you. I promise to behave.”
Barbara touched my shoulder. “You won’t have any choice, dear.”
Wes looked around. “If we can’t get better light in here, we’ll be better off on the floor in the other room.”
“Let’s move,” I told them.
Moved to a throw rug on the floor, with some cushions for support, Wes took off some but not all of the bandages, prodding gently. “Feels pretty good. Oh, let’s take care of the pump.” He dug in his bag, loading a syringe and injected its contents into the pump. “An anti-nausea medication.” He pushed more buttons on the pump, looking at its display. “Good, you are using it.”
“Can you tweak it so it doesn’t completely blast my mind with each hit?” I asked.
He nodded, pushing buttons. “Cut the dose to a third. That should do it. Multiple presses still work to deliver more.”
“Thanks. What next?”
I was wearing a T-shirt and socks, nothing else. Nobody seemed to mind.
“Roger, can you do reclined dancer, right side, please?” Wes asked.
A somewhat strange request, but what the hell. I bent my right knee, grabbing the big toe with my right hand and extended the leg, at first up, then letting it fall to the side.
Wes said, “That’s the flexibility he has.”
He had Maxine move my right leg around, exploring flexibility. “That’s what we want to retain,” Wes told Maxine.
“Now for the fun part,” Wes said to me. “Want to hit the pump first?” He was holding a small screwdriver-like tool in his right hand.
“Let’s try our approach,” Angela suggested.
Barbara sat down behind my head. I looked up at her. “I love you,” I told her.
“And I love you,” she whispered. “Close your eyes.”
I closed my eyes. She touched me, squeezed me, and took me back.
I was in the grotto, in the healing pool. Wes and Maxine were there too. I relaxed and let them move my knee. It hurt, but I felt the healing water moving around my knee, cooling, taking away the pain and swelling, helping me heal. Slow movement, gentle movement, the cool blue water around me.
Opening my eyes, I was still on my back on the floor. My left leg was supported in a contraption that was slowly flexing my knee.
Maxine and Wes were sitting on the floor next to me.
“How does that feel?” Maxine asked.
“Okay now, but I can tell it’s going to hurt as my leg dries off,” I told her.
I realized what I’d said and laughed a little to myself. I closed my eyes and visualized the grotto again, seeing and feeling my leg immersed in the pool, cooling, healing.
I opened my eyes again. “I can do this,” I said. I looked to Angela, who had a look of some satisfaction.
Wes was impressed, and told us so. So was Maxine. She explained that this gadget was going to be my friend for the next few weeks. Especially for the next few days, the more time I spent with it, the better. In particular, that meant all night long.
I looked to Barbara, Sam, and Angela. “With your help, I can do it.”
Wes gave his tool to Barbara, showing her how to lock and unlock the brace. If I wasn’t in the machine, the brace needed to be locked, anywhere within a certain range.
I mentioned my reading chair. With a nod, Wes said the ladies could unlock the brace and relock it at a comfortable angle for the chair.
After a bit more discussion, Wes asked, “Any questions?”
I didn’t have any. “This is easy, so far.”
Wes smiled. “I feel a lot better.” He stood up, helping Maxine. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll follow up by phone Friday morning, Maxine will come over at three Friday, and I’ll see you in my office Monday morning at nine. Doctor Richards -- could I have one of your cards, please?”
Angela beamed as she gave him two cards. “Would it be possible for you to drop me at the airport?” she asked.
Wes nodded. “I’d be happy to -- it seems I have a lot to learn.”
After they’d gone, I closed my eyes for a bit. I could feel the pain sneaking up on me. No sense fighting it -- I reached for the button and gave it a poke.
I felt hands touching my shoulders. Sam said, “That’s it, Roger -- relax and let me take you there...” Back to the grotto, relaxing, healing.
On my back, more or less awake again, my left leg moving still. The ladies were conversing, plotting.
“And the verdict is?” I called out.
They turned to me.
Samantha leered. “We were deciding whether to give you a bath before or after dinner.”
I couldn’t see a clock from where I was, but I knew I was hungry. “Could I suggest after?”
They agreed.
“And could I have some help getting to the loo?”
Dinner was pizza from around the corner, and it was great. My stomach was doing fine, and appreciated something semi-solid.
After dinner I even spent some time doing e-mail with my laptop.
“Hey!” I called out. “Paul and Gail say they run a great rehab facility! Want to go?”
I looked around. Where were they?
I had messages from well-wishers, as well as the usual offers of dubious validity. I worked through the stack.
“Bath time!”
Barbara and Sam appeared with the wheelchair, both of them smiling.
Once in the chair, they wheeled me to the guest bathroom and then to our bedroom.
A large piece of plastic was taped to the floor, partially covered with bath towels.
“This looks interesting,” I muttered. They laughed.
They positioned me on my back on the towels; Sam went to the bathroom. I heard the water running. Sam returned, putting down a basin and some washcloths. Then she shed her clothes. I glanced over to see Barbara doing the same. Barbara left her panties on; I put two and two together and guess her period had started again. Another reason for Sam to be here?
“Ah, and what am I supposed to do?”
Barbara ran her hands up my shoulders to my neck, said something as she squeezed me, and dropped me like a rock, down into that cool, healing pool once more.
They bathed me in cool, healing water.
As they dried me, the towels they were using turned into soft, sensuous fur running all over my body. Samantha straddled me. We slid together and she rocked us to heaven. They moved me to a hammock, and rocked me to sleep.
Early morning, the alarm going off and Barbara holding me. “I need to pee,” I complained, even though I’d rather be held.
I was in the middle of the bed, a wire frame around the contraption moving my knee kept the bedclothes free of it.
They helped me to the can. Sam gave me a kiss on the head and got into the shower.
“Wish I could help,” I called to her.
“So do I,” she replied.
Barbara laughed. “How did you sleep?”
“Very well -- how about you two?”
She smiled and shrugged. “That thing is noisy, but I got used to it.”
I pulled her closer and gave her a squeeze. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
We had breakfast; scrambled eggs. Sam had a classes -- one to teach and one she was taking -- she’d be back after lunch, and Barbara would escape to do her thing.
About nine a crew came in to install grab bars near the toilet and in the shower. I got to try the ones near the toilet, and they were very useful.
Barbara set me up on the floor, the contraption moving my knee again. After a while, I started doing abdominal exercises, diagonal lifts, slow and steady to its timing. I let myself fade, and did them until I couldn’t do any more.
Hand
By silli_artie@hotmail.com
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/artie/www
© Copyright 2004 by silli_artie@hotmail.com