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Patricia moves to the computer, looking at the monitors around me. She types as she asks me questions about how I’m feeling and what I would rate my pain level.
The door gently opens, and a male doctor enters, wearing the same protective gear as Patricia. “Hello, Elijah. I’m Dr. Jenner,” he tells me.
“Hello,” I say. “Nice to meet you.”
He steps toward me, checking the monitors. From what I can see on the screens, my blood pressure and heart rate all look normal.
“I was just about to tell him,” Patricia interjects, then smiles at me.
Dr. Jenner nods, then continues, “Your surgery went well. Being shot in the shoulder isn’t an easy wound to manage, but you’re lucky. A little farther over, and you might’ve not been so fortunate.”
“You’ve been very lucky,” Patricia emphasizes. “No spiked fevers, no infections, and all your stats have been stable the past twenty-four hours.”
I blink. Surgery? Then I glance at my left shoulder again and realize it’s all bandaged in the sling.
“Gunshot…” I mutter as flashes of that day begin to surface, and then I remember the two men who followed me to the cabin from the grocery store.
“I was able to stop the bleeding, and with some physical therapy, you’ll be as good as new in a few months,” Dr. Jenner explains.
“That’s a relief,” I breathe out.
“Patricia will get you on their schedule, so you can meet with someone for a consultation before you go,” he explains.
“Thank you,” I tell him.
Dr. Jenner nods and gives Patricia further instructions before he excuses himself.
“The medicine has had you in and out since the surgery, but we started to wean you off this morning to see how you’d react.”
“I feel like I could sleep for another four days,” I say with a grunt.
She grins. “Getting shot and having surgery will do that to you. We’ll continue to give you pain meds until you’re discharged. We just have to keep an eye on your stats for another couple of days to make sure you don’t have any complications arise.”
Another two days? I groan at the thought. She begins talking about how PT will teach me some at-home exercises to do since the facilities are closed. But I don’t give two shits about that right now. The only thing on my mind right now is Cami. Sweet Cami. Is she okay?
With the little strength I have, I reposition myself in the bed and sit taller. The nurse adjusts my pillow when she notices me struggling. “Where’s the woman who brought me here?”
“You came from the ER, then the ICU, so I’m not sure. Unfortunately, the hospital isn’t allowing any visitors. No one’s allowed to visit.”
Well, that fucking sucks. I bet she’s been going crazy not being able to see me because I know I am already.
“Though, someone has been calling at least once a day asking about you but since she’s unable to prove she’s family, we couldn’t give her any information due to HIPAA.”
That has to be Cami. “Did she leave a phone number?” I ask, and she shakes her head.
I vaguely remember giving the man my wallet, phone, and keys. I think he took Cami’s too. Without my cell, I don’t have anyone’s number memorized except my mother’s, and the last thing I want to do is alarm her, considering how nervous she was when I told her I was sick. I’d call Ava, but she recently changed her number, and I don’t remember it. Basically, I have no choice but to lay here and wait for Cami to call.
I move a bit and wince. The pain shoots through my body and is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. Leaning back, I tuck my lips into my mouth and hold in all the obscenities I want to scream.
Patricia looks at me and notices I’m uncomfortable. “You aren’t due for another dose of meds, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I tell her, though this fucking sucks.
“Do you have any other questions?” Patricia asks when she steps away from the computer.
“No, I don’t think so.” I let out a sigh, hating that I’m in here with no communication with the outside world. “Thank you,” I add before she leaves.
“Hit your call button if you need anything.”
“Oh, could I get some water?” I quickly ask, feeling thirsty regardless of being pumped with fluids.
“Sure thing,” she replies with a smile.
She leaves, and I find the remote, then turn on the TV.
Moments later, she returns with a full cup of water and another with some ice chips. Setting them on the tray, she moves it closer to me. I thank her, and then I’m left alone, just me and the constant beeping. I take a sip of water, and the cold soothes my dry mouth. I can only use my right arm, which is annoying, but I know things could’ve been worse so I’m counting my blessings.
