Page 4 of Property of Mongrel

“I can prescribe you something to take as needed if you’d like, but after surgery, you’ll take something a little bit stronger for a few days,” he says.

“As long as whatever you’re giving me isn’t something I can get addicted to, I’m fine with that, Dr. Albertson,” I reply.

I know Gretchen is past her withdrawals, but the last thing I want to do is bring something into the clubhouse that might cause her to struggle. I’d rather grit my teeth and deal with the agonizing pain until it dissipates first. When I see the look on his face, I quickly hold up my hand so I can explain further.

“I’m not and have never been an addict, but I know some people who have struggled, and I don’t want to take that chance,” I tell him.

“There are plenty of things I can prescribe that aren’t addictive. Honestly, the first few days after surgery will probably be the worst, but we can do a nerve block which will help keep your pain under control. Also, knowing Brooks the way I do, he’s going to want to make sure he’s got stuff on hand in case he needs to step in and help in the middle of the night or something. Plus, there’s a pretty cool ice machine that’s available now and it’ll help with the swelling. We sell them here, but you can get them at any major pharmacy chain or even Amazon, you don’t have to buy it from us. The important thing I tell my patients is to make sure you walk to help the gas that builds up in your shoulder and scapula region due to what we use to put you under.”

“Okay, and how soon will I start physical therapy?” I ask, eager to hear how soon I can ride again.

“A home health nurse will come by the day after the surgery and remove all the bluster which is the gauze and wrapping we use. She’ll check the incision sites, clean them, and then put regular bandages on them. I’ll give you a sheet of basic exercises to do, but that first physical therapy appointment will be passive in nature. Plus, you’ll have a shoulder immobilization sling with an abduction pillow you’ll wear.”

“What does that mean?” I query. “And is there any way that Doc or Gretchen, who’s an LPN, can do that part?”

Not for nothing, but the clubhouse is my home and I’m not crazy about letting a bunch of strangers traipse through the doors. I know I’ll be in pain, and the whole club is aware of what’s going on, but I refuse to make a lot of waves during this time.

“I don’t see why they can’t and I’m sure Brooks will insist on it,” he replies, grinning at me. I chuckle because he’s got Doc’s number, that’s for damn sure, but that’s also what makes him a good brother. “As far as passive physical therapy, they’ll check the area over and gently work on it to see where your range of motion is after the surgery. As the sessions go on, they’ll start working to rebuild the muscles and again, you’ll have at-home exercises to do in between your appointments.”

“All because some asshole clipped the back tire of my bike and sent me reeling,” I grumble.

“Not everyone sees motorcycles, but that’s because they don’t look. I was inside and heard you pull in, so how someone couldn’t hear you coming is beyond me,” he replies. “And I know from friends who ride that it’s one of the reasons their pipes are so loud, so people can hear them and consequently, see them.”

I don’t say anything about why I was run off the road since it’s club business, preferring to let him think it was something of that nature. Instead, I just nod. “So, now what?”

“Now, I’ll walk you up to the check-out desk, they’ll give you the pre-op instructions for surgery and then schedule your follow-up appointment. The physical therapy department will call you to set up your first appointment with them. It’s usually about a week after surgery. They’ll work you hard but they’re excellent at what they do. I expect we’ll have a textbook surgery, Mr. Shepherd.”

“Glad to hear that,” I reply as I follow him out of the exam room and toward the check-out desk.

CHAPTER

TWO

Addy

“This totally sucks,” I grumble as I stare at myself in the mirror while applying a light coat of makeup to my face. “And she doesn’t even care that because she just has to have a meeting today that those of us who are off will be paid for at least four hours thanks to company policy.”

While I’m all about making money so I can finally get the last of my student loans paid off, I actually had plans today and ended up having to push them back. Thanks to Janice Abercrombie. I’ve got a few more complaints concerning her as well, mostly regarding how she treats the patients who come in, plus the way she often blatantly ignores mine and the other therapists’ requests for time off.

If it had only happened once, I could excuse it as a mistake. However, seven different times since I started working at Rockmartin’s Sport Medicine, I’ve asked for specific days off only to be scheduled to work instead. When I’ve pressed as to why my request was denied, I have heard excuses ranging from ‘I didn’t see it’ to ‘Well so-and-so was off’. I’ve even been called in on my days off because of someone calling in sick.

“If this keeps up, I’m going to talk to Mrs. Rockmartin. This isn’t what she and her husband envisioned when they opened this facility,” I tell my reflection. “Something’s gotta give and it’s not going to be my mental health or even my physical health!”

After I’m done with my makeup, I style my hair then clean my sink. It’s one of those weird habits I have where I have to wipe down my bathroom every day. Maybe it’s because of how I grew up, I don’t know, and I’m sure a psychologist would have a field day sorting through that muck. I just know that when I finally got out on my own, I quickly adapted to making sure my living areas were spic and span.

Every day.

Even if I don’t use the room.

“Probably have obsessive compulsive disorder or some shit, Addy girl,” I cheerfully say out loud as I slip on my jeans, a casual shirt, and my Hey Dudes. They’re some of the most comfortable shoes I’ve ever worn, although, when I’m working, I typically wear sneakers.

I fill my tumbler with ice water, give the kitchen a quick glance then head to the door so I can leave. I live in a small, adobe style duplex that I rent from an elderly lady who hasn’t decided whether or not she wants to sell the property. If she does, I could turn it into passive income to help build my rainy-day fund, especially since I’m single with no prospects on the horizon.

“That could’ve been a memo,” I whisper to my fellow therapist, Kara. “But hey, it’s just more overtime, right?”

She smirks and nods. “I’ve got my eye on a new pair of shoes,” she confesses.

“You only have two feet, how many pairs do you really need?” I ask, now completely ignoring Janice as she blathers on about making sure we update our patient charts. Most of us have the charts open as we work with our patient, outlining basic details. At the end of the day, I personally go in and add any impressions about progress that I noted during the session. Apparently, Miss Bossy McBosserson thinks we should be doing all of it right then and there.