Page 31 of First Comes Marriage
“They’re about to clean your burn again,” Jolie says.
Within a few minutes, I feel the cool liquid as it flows through my veins and before another thought crosses my head, I’m asleep.
When my eyes pop open, I find Jolie’s hand laying haphazardly on my stomach while her head is on the bed near my waist. “J-jolie?” I croak out, my voice beyond raspy, as though I smoke three packs a day and gargle with glass and gravel.
Her body jerks with shocked alertness and I’m now gazing into her beautiful eyes which are wide with shock. “Dex! You’re finally awake! Let me get your nurse.”
I put my hand on her arm to stall her. “How long?” I ask, knowing she’ll understand I’m asking how long I’ve been out of it.
“Almost three weeks now. The doctors started decreasing the sedation three days ago but warned me it might take a few days before you woke up, because you’ve been pumped full of those meds, as well as painkillers this whole time.”
“The kids?” I question as she pushes the call button instead of rushing out of the room.
“Abuela, Nonna, Mindy, and Brock sat them down when they came home from camp and told them what happened. Since then, I’ve often FaceTimed them while in here so they can see for themselves that you’re alive. Badly hurt, of course, but still breathing.”
“Do they know when I’ll be able to go home?” I need to see the rest of my family as soon as possible. “What about Rex?”
“Believe it or not, you caught the brunt of the flying debris. He had a small brain bleed and some cuts and gashes, but outside of that, he’s already been released and is recovering at home with his pregnant fiancée by his side,” she replies.
“I’m glad that it was me rather than him,” I admit just as several nurses and two doctors come rushing into the room. “Guess we’ll finish this when they’re done.”
She smiles, and I see the relief spread along her face before she steps back to allow them enough room to come closer. I’m surethey’ve done this multiple times over these past weeks, but let me tell you something, I’m glad I wasn’t aware because I am definitely in pain right now as they poke and prod me.
“Mr. Armstrong, glad you decided to rejoin us,” the doctor says as he shines a light in my eyes, then checks my ears, nose, and throat. “I’ve told your wife the extent of your injuries, would you like me to go over the list of them with you as well?”
“No, she’ll fill me in. I have one question for you, when can I go home?” I inquire.
“First, you’ll go to a rehabilitation facility for a few weeks to get some physical and occupational therapy,” the doctor advises.
I see a nurse readying a table and despite not being lucid since the day I was rolled into surgery, I somehow know she’s going to clean and debride the wound on my arm. The only reason I know it’s a wound is there’s some weird tube coming out of it, and I can hear the vacuum-like sound as it pulls out excess fluid. It sounds like a pump of some sort which is weird. Why would I have a pump on my arm like that?
“No to the rehab facility unless it’s one close to where I live. I’m not putting my grandmothers and siblings through any more than they’ve already endured,” I bark out as she slides on gloves and starts to work. “Am I getting this done without any pain medication?” I ask.
“Absolutely not,” Jolie growls, coming alongside the bed and hitting a button on a remote. “This is your pain pump, honey, that I usually push about five minutes before they start that process.” She glares at the wound nurse and snarks out, “You’re gonna wait until it hits his system. It causes him a great deal ofpain and it is noticeable based on how his blood pressure shoots up even with the drugs.”
“Then that means he’s not getting enough pain relief,” the doctor states. “Hold on, we’ll add something to your IV, Mr. Armstrong, then I’ll write orders to change the dosage. The reason you have a wound vac is because the burn was deeply embedded. We’ve found the negative pressure wound vacuums help injuries of this nature heal rather quickly.”
I nod, already feeling minimal pain relief, but knowing that whatever they’re going to add will probably knock my ass out, I look at Jolie and say, “Call Bruce while they’re doing it and see if he can help get me home, babe. I’m pretty sure my health insurance will cover home health care, and I’d rather be there even though I know Abuela and Nonna will fuss over me, than in another sterile facility.”
“We shouldn’t have a problem getting you home and having your therapies and wound care taken care of there,” the doctor advises, coming back in with a syringe hopefully filled with liquid pain relief. “I feel as though patients heal better when they’re surrounded by those they love.”
“He’ll still be on IV antibiotics,” one of the nurses states, being snippy.
“Which… his wife can be taught how to administer,” the doctor admonishes, his tone as cold as ice. “It’s done all the time, nurse. We’ll get him set up with specialists near where he lives to follow up with respect to his legs, and the burn. All of his stitched lacerations have healed, and the stitches have dissolved, so he’s really just in the healing phase.”
“So, should I still call Bruce?” Jolie asks after the doctor finishes talking.
The doctor looks at me and nods. “Tell his boss he’s going to need a medical transport, whether that’s via air ambulance or ground ambulance. Oh, and if he’s doing the supply ordering, your husband will still need a hospital bed for lowering and raising, as well as elevating his legs. We still have to be careful that he doesn’t develop blood clots. The medication we’ve been giving him through the shots in his stomach will be changed over to an oral pill.”
“Got it,” Jolie replies, leaning in to swipe her hand across my head. “Before you leave, I’m getting a shower for you and shaving your head.”
“You’re my hero, Jolie,” I slur out, the pain meds the doctor injected into my IV hitting hard.
“And you’re drugged out of your head, honey,” she teases. “Gonna go take care of the details with Bruce. How soon should I tell him to be ready, Doctor?” Jolie questions.
“I think if we get some tests run this afternoon, there’s no reason he can’t be transported home tomorrow,” the doctor replies.
“Good to know,” I say as darkness reclaims me in its embrace.
