by Dale Mayer
She checked through to see who she would have to spend a little bit more time watching over, and only three of those who’d had night disturbances made that list. She wasn’t alone on day shift either, which was a good thing. As she glanced at the stack of papers beside her, she groaned. They kept both paper files and digital files, and everything had to correlate and be updated. It was the only way to be assured that things were accurate. And some things, like scans, just didn’t have the same visual on an iPad as they did when up on the backlit screens. She grabbed her list and started her rounds. She left Gregory for last, and, as she walked in, she found him still sleeping.
She frowned, realizing how much of a bad night he’d had to still be sleeping at nine-thirty a.m. She stepped out into the hallway and sent a note to his team, letting them know his bad night had resulted in a late morning, and he still wasn’t moving.
Back in her office, she worked on the stack of files because now she also had her own to update. By the time she looked up again, it was already eleven a.m. She quickly grabbed her tablet and headed to check on Gregory again. As she knocked on the door and heard his muffled voice, she stepped in, looked at him and smiled. “Hey, sleepyhead.”
He lifted blurry eyes and stared at her. “What time is it?”
“It’s eleven am.”
Gregory stared at her in shock; then, groaning loudly, he rolled over but didn’t get out of bed.
“I hear you had a bad night,” she said, using her most professional voice. She walked over and quickly took his temperature and blood pressure. His blood pressure was definitely up, but his temperature was fine. She looked at him and asked, “Have you been up yet?”
He shook his head. “No, not yet. Not looking forward to it either.”
“Do you want me to stay here in case you have trouble?” He shot her a look. She smiled but stood firm. “You have to tell me to leave, if that’s what that look was supposed to be.”
“Yes,” he said, “you can leave.”
She frowned. “When you’re a little more awake, take a look at what you missed this morning. Also potentially head for an early lunch so that you’re a little more prepared for the PT this afternoon.”
“I don’t think I’m going to physio this afternoon,” he said. He got up, grabbed one crutch and walked past her slowly, like an old man, bent over slightly. His gait was getting better as he made it to the bathroom. He was still hobbling but looked a lot less like he was crippled by the time he made it there.
She stood and waited.
When he stepped out, he looked at her and frowned.
“Yes, I’m still here,” she said. “This is still my job.”
At that, he didn’t say anything but glanced at the floor. He made his way back to the bed and sagged. “I’m not going anywhere today,” he said.
“Not even for food?”
“Not at this moment,” he said. “Maybe later. I think I’ll go back to sleep.” He stretched out, rolled over and dropped his head on the pillow, groaning with each move.
Yet she knew he was holding back. She walked back outside his room, closed the door behind her, made several more notations and then sent a note to Shane, Gregory’s physiotherapist. By the time she was back to her office and working again, she looked up to see Shane standing there, his arms crossed over his chest. “Is he sleeping again?”
“I don’t know. Probably,” she said. “I know he was pretty worn out late yesterday into this morning.”
“I know,” he said, taking a seat in her office. “I was still testing him yesterday, but I did put him through quite a few paces. I also watched to see when it was too much.”
“I have a note here from Anna, who was on overnight, and apparently it was a lot too much. She says he woke up with pretty rough cramps and lots of abdominal pain.” Meredith handed him the notes.
Shane looked them over, mentally ticked them off, nodded and said, “I’ll take a look at him now.” He got up.
As he walked from her office, she called out, “Don’t forget. We might need to bring in one of his doctors on this too.”
“I’m on it,” Shane replied from the distance.
She could hear his footsteps disappearing. She worried about Gregory for a few moments and then realized that it wasn’t her job. Not this part at least. He had a medical team, and they were a damn good team. They would take care of him in each of their specialized and distinctive practices, as she would take care of all her patients as their nurse. Another one from last night, who had had a bad time of it, she’d already visited twice, but he hadn’t been doing so well either.
She grabbed her tablet and headed back to see him, sitting up in bed, looking a whole lot older than she’d ever seen him before. “Wow, Solson, you don’t look too good,” she said.
“Don’t feel too good either,” he replied. “I think I must have picked up the flu or something.”
“Do you want me to bring you some food?” she asked.
He frowned, thought about it and then said, “No, I was thinking that maybe fresh air would help.”
“And it might,” she said encouragingly. “Do you want me to help you out on the cafeteria deck? Maybe snag a coffee on the way past?”
He looked at her, pathetically grateful. “If you wouldn’t mind, that would help a lot.”
She helped him into the wheelchair.
Solson nodded. “I was hoping there might be a shady spot where I can get some fresh air, maybe sitting closer to the doors on the deck? Have a juice or something for my stomach?”
“Well, let’s go take a look,” she said. “Did you have anything different last night? Any change in medication I don’t know about?”
“No,” he said, “it’s such a weird thing. I had cramps, and my head just boomed, and my back started to hurt.”
“Interesting,” she said, “and it came on suddenly?”
“Yes, very,” he said. “It didn’t make a whole lot of sense. But I am feeling a bit better now that I am moving.”
“Did you end up with vomiting or diarrhea?”
“Both,” he said. “I wondered if it was maybe food poisoning.” He stopped, frowned and said, “I did have some cookies last night.”
“What kind of cookies?”
“They were butter cookies, but I’ve had them for a long time,” he said. “I just woke up and got the munchies.”
“Normally cookies dry out, but they don’t cause that kind of an upset.”
He gave her a sheepish look. “Well, I did eat the pack.”
She stopped for a moment, walked around so she could look him in the face and asked, “You ate the whole pack of cookies? Was it full?”
He grinned and nodded. “I do have a sweet tooth.”
“Well, that might make you have an upset stomach, with both vomiting and diarrhea,” she said. “I’m scared to ask how many cookies there were.”
He shrugged and mumbled something.
She wasn’t sure what she heard, so she bent lower and repeated her question.
“Two dozen,” he said, “maybe, give or take a few.”
She tried to hold back her laughter, but there was no way. With her hand clapped over her mouth, she leaned against the wall and laughed and laughed. By the time she was done, he was grinning like a crazy man too.
“You don’t do that enough,” he said. “You should.”
She smiled, shook her head and said, “I haven’t heard anything that funny in a while. I mean, I hate to say that karma is right there, ready to bite you in the butt, however …”
He nodded. “That’s what I figured. I’m not sure it’s all out yet either.”
“Well, if it came out both ends, obviously your stomach revolted. So chances are something very light for lunch is about all you’ll put down there today.”
“That’s what I was thinking. I thought I’d start with a glass of milk.”
She grinned at that thought. “You do that.” She led him gently through the cafeteria t
hat wasn’t busy yet and found him a spot outside where he was mostly in the shade, but he could shift if he needed to. “How does this look?”
“It looks good,” he said. “I’ll just sit here for a bit.”
“Good, and I’ll go get your milk,” she said. Not giving him a chance to argue, she walked over to the large cooler and pulled out a carton of milk and brought it back for him. “Here you go,” she said. “Now remember. Just take it easy at lunchtime. I know you always have a big appetite, but your stomach’s really had a number done on it this time.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I guess I’m not a kid anymore.”
“When you cross the thirty mark,” she said, “your stomach isn’t a kid anymore.”
He chuckled, grinned and said, “Thanks, Meredith.”
She patted his shoulder gently. “I’ll check on you later.” She walked back toward her office as a few more people came into the cafeteria. She took a side route and quickly walked down the line to see what there was for lunch. Apparently it was Mexican today. She smiled as she looked at the tacos, burritos, tortillas and guacamole, then said, “Dennis, this looks divine.”
“Well, if it’s so divine,” he called out from the other side of the counter, where he was still loading up the sour cream and chives, “why are you going in the wrong direction?”
She grinned. “Because it’s not time for my lunch yet,” she said. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”
When she returned to her office, she quickly updated Solson’s file. Most of the time he did well. But obviously a couple dozen butter cookies weren’t what his stomach wanted last night. With those notes updated, she looked up to see one of the other nurses coming in. Rene plunked herself down and looked at Meredith, blew a wisp of hair off her forehead and said, “Wow, it’s busy today.”
“Apparently it’s been busy for a while,” she said, motioning at the stack of folders. “These here on the right side are still left over from the night shift.” She pointed them out. “The rest are ours from today.”
“I hear you,” Rene said. “Most of the notes we can update as we go, but, when it comes to some of the other staff, we have to do the paperwork.”
“There’s always paperwork,” Meredith said calmly. “Checks and balances. It’s always about checks and balances.”
“Right.” Rene dropped her tablet on the table beside her and said, “I’ll grab some food first, then get started on my own paperwork.” She stopped, looking at Meredith, and asked, “Do you want to come?”
Meredith thought about it for a moment and then nodded. “Why not?” she said. “It’s Mexican today too,” she said to Rene.
“Wow,” she said. “Let’s go.”
Laughing, the two women headed off.
Gregory lay on his bed, exhausted. His muscles throbbed, and his body felt like he’d been tossed out into heavy uncharted seas and fought a twenty-mile swim against the tide before being smashed on the rocks and rescued just before he drowned. He’d already had a conversation with Shane, but Gregory wasn’t at all sure that they were on the same wavelength. Gregory had overdone it and blamed himself, but he also blamed Shane for letting him.
“Well, it’s an interesting reaction,” Shane had said. “I was watching to make sure we didn’t overdo things, but obviously something affected you.”
“Yeah,” Gregory said in a slightly bitter tone. “I can hardly even move today.”
“And that also likely means a buildup of lactic acid in your system too,” his therapist said thoughtfully. He walked over, sat down on the chair and appeared to be bringing up a file on his tablet. He clicked through several times and then shrugged. “Okay, well, I’ll come back here after lunch. Then we’ll do some exercises to loosen you up a little bit, making sure that you don’t feel quite so bad, and see if we can get you back up on your feet again.”
“Today?” Gregory asked in a rough, gravelly voice. He hated to be a whiner here, but none of this made any sense. If Shane had listened, why would they force him to do more? At the other place, as soon as Gregory was in pain, everything stopped until he healed.
“Well, a lot of the pain is from the muscles tightening up. As soon as you start moving again, the pain eases.”
“Sure,” he said. “What I can’t handle is more pain. So whatever we do today, I’ll need painkillers to even let you touch me.”
“We can arrange for some of that,” Shane said cheerfully. “What we can’t do is let you just sit like this, where your muscles go cold and tight, creating a worse scenario tomorrow.”
“Worse?” He damn-near glared at him. “One thing I can’t do is get any worse.”
“Exactly. So, do you want to work now so you can walk down to lunch—or at least wheel yourself down there on your own—or do you want us to bring you some food first? Only then you have to work with a full belly, and that won’t be as easy.”
“Not as easy?”
“It could be a little harder,” Shane acknowledged. “There’s just no right or wrong answer.”
“Right,” Gregory said, “so that sucks.”
“Yes, it does. But those are the facts of life, … so make a decision now.” He stood here, hands on his hips, quietly waiting.
Gregory dropped back against his bed and said, “Now then. I don’t think I could eat anyway.”
“Exactly,” he said. “Let’s get those pajama bottoms off you, and we’ll start on the ankles and the foot, working our way up.”
“Sure, but that sounds completely backward,” Gregory said. “It would make more sense to start at the thighs and work down.”
His therapist smiled, while replying, “Well, we’re working our way up first, and then we’ll work our way down.”
Gregory groaned. “Or you could just not.”
“Well, it’ll happen whether you like it or not,” he said, his tone businesslike but determined, which pointed out to Gregory what a little whiny brat he was being.
He groaned. “Okay, let’s do this.”
And, for the next hour, Shane stretched, pulled, massaged and loosened up Gregory’s muscles to the point that one leg and then his other shook out to not feeling too bad. By the time Shane had done Gregory’s arms and chest and then was rolled over so Shane could work on his back, Gregory started to feel like a whole new man again.
“If I knew you could do this,” Gregory said, “I would have called for you when I woke up.”
“And that’s exactly what you should have done,” Shane replied. “Instead I heard it from Meredith.”
“Yeah, she was here just after I woke up. I had to get up and go to the bathroom, and I guess I didn’t look too good.”
“Obviously,” Shane chided. “That’s just the way life is when you don’t listen to your therapist.”
“Right,” Gregory replied. As he laid here, he realized his body hummed with a sense of peace. “You have magical hands,” he announced.
Shane laughed. “Years and years of experience. There’s no need for pain here. Most of the time it’s muscles that have been either not used for too long or we did too much. One of the other biggest issues is the fact that often you sleep too hard, too long and too deep, so the muscles don’t even move around during the night. You sleep in one position. You wake up the next morning, and everything has seized up.”
“Gotcha,” he said. “Still sucks.”
He laughed. “It does, indeed, but we’re almost there.” He stepped back a few moments later, looked down at Gregory and said, “Try to sit upright and see how you feel.”
At that, Gregory rolled over, slowly sat up, rolled his shoulders and his neck, and said, “The shoulders are good. The arms are good. The neck is a bit tense.”
Immediately Shane stepped behind him and quickly massaged the shoulder and neck joints. “How’re your teeth? Do you grind your teeth at night?”
“I don’t think so, but my jaw feels locked.”
“That would explain the sore neck too.” With those very expe
rienced fingers, Shane gently but firmly massaged along the jawline and up along the TM joint under the ear and then moved up the outside of the ear, up across the temple and over the forehead before doing a quick down-the-head scalp rub.
By the time he was done, Gregory was almost ready to beg for more. “That last part of what you were doing,” he said, “that’s wickedly good.”
Shane chuckled. “It is, isn’t it?” he said. “Now get moving, and see how it is this time.”
And, with that, Gregory slowly stood, hopped on one leg along the length of the bed and then grabbed a crutch. He took a couple steps and turned around, calmly looking for his other crutch. He hobbled over, grabbed it and then did several steps around the room. “You know what? That feels pretty decent.”
“Excellent. How about some lunch?”
Gregory nodded and said, “Yeah, that’s probably good timing. I need to get changed though.”
“Good. I’ll see you down there. We’ll do a session this afternoon,” he said firmly. “It won’t be hard, and we’ll definitely do some lighter weights and multiple repetitions. Don’t worry. We won’t overwork it. I would suggest maybe an hour of that and then hit the pool.”
At the sound of pool, Gregory lit up. “Now that would be ideal.” He said, “Actually the hot tub too. That would really help to set this off.”
“Maybe,” Shane said. “But its food first, then some light workout, and afterward the pool before any hot tub time.”
“Fine,” he said in disgust. “Don’t you ever give anybody a break?”
“No,” Shane replied. “If we did that, everybody would want one.” He laughed as he walked out.
Gregory pondered that, noting the laugh had left him feeling a hell of a lot better. He quickly got changed, and something about being dressed and ready to start the day seemed so different too. It felt good, like he had left the invalid part of him behind. He chose the wheelchair just because he didn’t want to overdo it, and, as he rolled his way down the hallway and back to the cafeteria, he found most of the lunch crowd had come and gone. He rolled his way down the line, chose a selection of aromatic Mexican food and then headed to the sunshine, but, as soon as he got there, it was hot. Too hot. Struggling, he turned around, rolled back inside and found a table with a little more space for his wheelchair.