Page 117 of The Legend

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Page 117 of The Legend

WatchingJameson being examined by countless doctors was difficult. For one, he hated itand I didn’t like seeing their dejected faces when he wouldn’t respond or gotconfused and told them the wrong answer. He could bend over without stumblingand the headaches he got were so blinding that he would vomit. His mood shifteddrastically at times. So drastically that it scared me. He wasn’t hungry andwhen he did eat, he would usually throw up. In the mornings, he was hard towake up sometimes, and had a seizure upon waking. The brain injury was taking atoll on him. It didn’t help that he already had plenty of concussions in thepast and receiving a brain injury of this nature made it worse.

Onemorning, his twenty-seventh day in that hospital, a younger female doctor camein to perform her exams. She was apparently the head of Orthopedics departmentand wanted to look at how Jameson’s bones were healing. His shoulder had beengiving him the most pain but his chest seemed to be worse.

“I’m Dr.Baine.” She reached for my hand and shook it. “I’m here tolook over Jameson and see if there’s anything we need to be cautious of beforewe consider starting him on a rehabilitation program.” She smiled. “I’m sureeventually he’s gonna want to get back in his car.”

Dr.Bainewas familiar with race car drivers. Being the closesthospital to Knoxville, they had seen their fair share of injuries related toracing over the years.

Jamesondidn’t acknowledge her presence, his gaze still on the window.

I gave hera smile for his lack of response and she smiled back. “Let’s get started.”

When sheremoved the blankets, his bare chest was revealed. My eyes traveled the lengthof his dwindling body to his chest, ribs and stomach that were still nearlycompletely covered in deep purple blotches mixing with yellow and brown. Somewounds were healing where others were making themselves known. It was hardwatching him lose weight and muscle knowing the toll it was taking on him.

My eyesdrifted to his tattoo across his chest under the bandage from his split holdinghis shoulder in place. Reading the scripture that matched the one on my spine,tears came to my eyes. Jameson’s met mine.

Jamesonrarely let anyone see that particular tattoo as it was something very sacredbetween the two of us. It was the meaning behind how we fell in love. For solong, we avoided the change in our relationship into what was there, staring atus.

The doctorread it and smiled softly knowing she may have over stepped her boundary. Her cheeksheated and she looked away. “It’s a beautiful scripture.”

Jamesonsaid nothing to her in response, his eyes still on mine. It was strange lookinginto his eyes now. They were different and I often wondered if they wouldchange.

Jameson blinkedwatching me carefully as the doctor felt his stomach and then pulled theblanket down further to reveal his pelvis. His eyes never left mine.

Iswallowed and dropped my eyes from his and finally looked at his injuries. Youcould see every bruise where bones had been broken and now were healing.Smiling, I noticed the marks of our drunken nights together before we weremarried.

My eyesdrifted lower as she moved the blanket a touch lower revealing an area I didn’tthink to highly of her seeing. I looked at Jameson. He was looking at me still,watching my reaction. I smiled letting him know I was okay and then took a peakdown there. I hadn’t seen him naked in weeks and yes, I missed my camshaft. Thethought of having sex wasn’t really on my mind these days but when she pushedthe blanket just a fraction lower and I saw his camshaft, my mind immediatelywent there. Part of me was thankful it was still there, you know, stillattached and all. I don’t know why I thought it wouldn’t but it was reassuring.

When Ilooked back up at Jameson, he winked. He knew me too well. I nearly cried itwas the first wink I had seen since the accident.

The nurseleft not long after that and left us alone. We didn’t speak much, small talkregarding the kids and his sprint car team.

We didn’ttalk about his injuries and we didn’t talk about what I saw. We didn’t talkabout a lot of things these days.

He askedquestions but they were usually related to racing. We didn’t talk about thevoid we felt and the distance that seemed to be growing between us.

WhenJameson finally watched the accident on television the reaction was similar tothe one with Darrin but different because he knew a life was lost. It was nicethat the media respected our wishes and never publicly played the video otherthan that first night. Knoxville recorded the race but immediately released theonly copy to Alley at her immediate request. Something as horrifying as thatvideo didn’t need to be seen. Sprint car crashes are extremely violent when thecars start flipping and that video clearly displayed the dangers and theaftermath.

I watchedit with him and the only indication he gave that he was affected by it was theheart monitor he was connected to beeping. It was tough to watch, both hisreaction and the video.

Of courseit happened on lap fourteen. Everyone that knew Jameson understood fourteenwasn’t a number he liked. Everything bad that happened to him was related tothe number in an eerie way.

“Get ridof that.” He told me as I took the DVD out of the player.

“You wantme to throw it away?” I asked turning to face him, the DVD in hand.

Jamesonlooked from my hand to the window. He gave a careful nod and then closed hiseyes.

I knewwatching that had to have been hard on him and I didn’t want to go all Dr. Philon him because he didn’t want that. He didn’t want to be bothered. So I satthere and simply offered my presence.

I couldn’tsleep that night but I also didn’t want to stay at the hotel with Emma. Shesnored. Usually falling asleep beside Jameson in his bed, I removed myself oncehe was asleep because I didn’t want to hurt him. His body was still so fragileand one wrong move by me or him in the middle of the night could set hishealing back more. There was also the possibility of him having a seizure. Iwas in bed with him when it happened once and it wasn’t pretty and he was moreupset with himself for smacking me in the mouth than reinjuring in shoulder.

Throughhis window, I watched night give way to dawn, stars replaced with pinks and purples.Soon a haze appeared as clouds moved in and snow began to fall. My eyes stungfrom the tears last night and my back was aching from sleeping in the chair.

Rubbing myeyes, I looked over at him to see that he was awake, quietly watching me.

“You...don’t look good.” He studied my face for amoment, his eyes scanning and looking for something but what I didn’t know.

“Thanks.”I said rolling my eyes.


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