“You’ve never been to the hospital?” Ella asks while I wonder if maybe there’s something else going on with him.
“Nope, was born right here in this house, just like my ma before me, and all my youngins,” he replies. “It’s just me now, though.”
I continue to pull the boards away, grateful that despite my size I’m strong enough to do this type of physical labor. I’mstruggling with the last one that’ll give us access to him when it happens; I feel a sharp, gouging pain on my left arm. Blood immediately starts flowing and I hear Ella’s gasp when she hears me cry out.
“Well, that’s gonna leave a mark,” I grit out, the agony immediately causing me to want to puke. “Ella, can you wrap this up? We’ll get him out then head back to base.”
“Looks like you might be joining me at the hospital,” Otis teases just as my foot slips and I fall into a puddle of stagnant water. The smell alone makes me wonder if his septic tank is damaged and leaking, but I shake that thought off when I catch a glimpse of the offending spike.
It’s got so much rust that it’s practically a different color. I relax slightly when I remember I’m current on my tetanus shot until it dawns on me that when I fell into the water, my arm slipped into the mucky, murky depths. Dammit, I think I just bought myself a wicked infection, although I hope that the bleeding helped to minimize it.
“Alright, we’re gonna move you now, Otis,” I say, ignoring what he’s just said for the time being as I help Ella maneuver him out of where he’s been stuck. Once he’s on the back of the Ranger, she finishes her assessment. I ask, “Anything you want me to grab from inside for your hospital stay?”
“Don’t laugh, but I have a bag right inside the door. I had planned to evacuate when the storm warnings first started, then decided to stay. Got an extra phone charger already in it, but my phone is on the charger in the kitchen,” he replies. “Power’s still out, but my generator has been keeping my fridge going, as well as my phone. I think some towers might be down or something because the signal is horrible right now, though.”
“Let me get all that together so we can get you some help,” I say, heading into the house.
Like Elmer’s, it’s well kept up, and I quickly do the same thing for him as I did at Elmer’s house, bagging up the trash as well as the items in the fridge that might not survive. I know it’s probably a bit over the top, but these folks have gone through enough. The last thing they need to worry about is coming home to a house that has rotten food. It doesn’t take long and I’m back outside, the bag and his phone in my hands.
“Alright, I’ve got him ready to go,” Ella says. “Let me take a look at what’s going on with you.” All we’ve done is slap some gauze on it and wrap it and if I’m being honest, the last thing I want to do is unwrap it and see the damage. It’s obvious it’s still actively bleeding based on the darkening wrap, so the sooner we get to base, the sooner I can get seen.
“No time,” I say, barely biting back a scream of pain as I get myself in the other Ranger. Those dark spots are still dancing around in my vision, but I’ve got a job to do before I can worry about myself.
I hear the bathroom door open and smile, knowing it’s Ella. “You about done?” she asks. “I brought you some clean clothes, and the shit you took off is already in a bag to go to the laundry.”
Stepping out of the shower, I grin when she wraps a towel around me. I don’t care that she’s seeing me naked; it’s not the first time and probably won’t be the last. Being roommates in the past, we lost those inhibitions years ago. “Will you braid my hair? I have a feeling I’ve bought myself a round of antibiotics and knowing Thelma, she’s not gonna let me go out for a few days.”
“Yeah, I’ll braid your hair, it’ll make you look badass once you get your arm taken care of. Let’s get you dressed first. Are you gonna leave it wrapped?” she asks.
“For the time being, yes. I’m pretty sure they’re going to have to debride it, especially since it got soaked in that nasty water,” I grumble.
“So, I figure scrub pants will be easier to get up and down one-handed,” she teases, once I finish getting dried off, “but I don’t think you can go bra-less.”
I look down at my chest and smirk. While I’m not huge, I either wear camisoles with shelf bras, a regular bra, or a sports bra. The thing is, I know they’ll numb my arm which will make it pretty much useless. “It still gets cool at night, so what if I wear a cami, then just put a button-up on?” I ask. “That way, I won’t have to bother you or pull something over my head.”
She rolls her eyes at me then replies, “As if you could be a bother, Fee. But I agree, that would be the best option for right now. We’ll figure out the rest as we go, okay?”
“Works for me,” I murmur, the nausea I’ve been keeping at bay through sheer force of will showing itself once more.
I’m not someone who has ever dealt with chronic pain, but I’ve had patients over the years tell me how they hurt so bad that they want to puke. And I now understand what they meant, which is a shitty way of learning as far as I’m concerned. Still, if it helps me handle someone who has chronic pain issues with a little more compassion, then so be it. I’ll use this as a learning experience. An emesis bag is thrust at me, courtesy of Ella, and I grin.
“How did you know?” I ask as I let her finish dressing me while I try not to vomit on her.
“Well, the convulsive swallowing was my first clue, but the way you’re white knuckling the sink counter is a dead giveaway. Let’s go sit at our lovely kitchen table and I’ll get your hair braided so Thelma can put her eyes on you and give you some Zofran while she arranges your transport.”
“I don’t want to go by ambulance, Ella,” I reply. When she starts to protest, I stop her and say, “Bubba and Polly are here so I’m pretty sure we can borrow their truck and save the bus for someone who’s in worse shape. I can still walk and talk, so that’s not me.”
“Fine, fine,” she grumbles. “Let’s get this done so we can get going, my friend. I don’t want to think about what is cooking in that wound at this point.”
“Same, my friend, same,” I reply, looking at the gauze that she wrapped it with that’s now an ugly rust and red color as it continues to bleed. I can only pray that not stanching the blood has allowed some of the yuck to be expelled.
With my hair in two Dutch braids, we walk to the triage tent where Thelma is standing, her hands on her hips as she shakes her head. “Cortez, let me look.” When I start to protest, she barks out, “Now!”
I sit on the exam table as she and Ella both glove up. Thankfully, they put a chux pad across my lap since I’m freshly showered and really don’t want anything dripping on my pants. I watchintently as they remove the gauze, ignoring their murmured gasps when it’s finally exposed. “Well, that’s gonna leave a mark,” Thelma muses, saying the same thing that Ella did when it happened. “I know you’re heading to the hospital, but we’re going to do what we can to clean it out a bit, okay?”
“Whatever you think is best,” I say. At times like this, when Thelma’s on a tear, it’s best to agree, because you won’t win.
“Good answer,” she retorts. “Ella says you’re nauseous, so open your mouth and I’ll pop in a Zofran.” I watch her change her gloves before she’s miming for me to ‘open wide’ before she slips a tiny pill under my tongue. I hate sublingual meds, but theydowork quickly, which is why I won’t complain.
