by Naomi Niles
Dylan pulled me to him forcefully and kissed me so hard that I felt that kiss all the way down to my toes. I heard the small gathering erupt into laughter and applause but Dylan didn’t let go of me.
“We did it, Lizzie,” Dylan whispered to me. “We made it.”
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PHYSICAL
By Erin Wes
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 Erin Wes
CHAPTER ONE
KYLE
The headache was always the same. It would just hit me out of nowhere. Today I was sitting at my desk trying to finish up some paperwork before my sister showed up to take me to the doctor. She was insisting on going with me like I’m twelve. I didn’t want to go and I didn’t want her to go with me…until once again the crushing pain descended down on me. It pulsed like a slow heartbeat and each time the veins dilated and the blood rushed through, it brought with it a new wave of pain, each one worse than the last. I couldn’t sit still… I had to get up and pace from one end of the room to the other and back again. It was so intense that I honestly looked at the big glass window behind me and for just a second, I thought about shoving my head through it. I know that doesn’t make any sense, but nothing does when the pain is this bad.
As I paced up and down, my vision got blurry as my eyes began to burn and pour water out of them. I was at least grateful that I was at work when it happened and not out driving to a job. It hit me once on the I-635 on my way out to a jobsite. There was nowhere to stop until I got off the freeway and the whole time, I was clutching the wheel with one hand and wiping the water out of my eyes with the other. It was one of those situations where you just know: this is it, I’m fucking dying right here on the 635. I just knew that I was going to die. It had been just my luck that my sister was joining me on the jobsite that day. I work for her husband, Michael. He and I are both architects, and he owns his own business in Dallas. Sarah is a stay-at-home mom most of the time, but when we’re short-handed and one of us needs an assistant, she fills in. I was forty-five minutes late that day and she called and texted me four times before I got there. The last time, I finally answered, and when she asked me where I was…I literally had no clue. I’d gotten off the freeway and pulled onto some side street in a residential area and paced up and down the street. Luckily, no one called the cops. I told Sarah about the headache while I was still recovering and in a vulnerable state – that’s why I have the doctor’s appointment today.
When I’m smack dab in the middle of the pain, going to the doctor sounds like a fine idea. But once it’s gone and my thoughts clear, I change my mind. Sarah knows me too well. She grew up looking after my stubborn Native American dad and me. She actually called the doctor and handed me the phone. Then, she stood there and listened. When she heard them try to give me an appointment for next week, she said, “He can’t wait that long!” So rather than deal with my sister, who can be quite pushy, they got me in this afternoon. Right now, this fucking pain is so bad that it can’t be soon enough.
“Hey, Kyle!” The sound of my brother-in-law Michael’s booming voice ripped through me like a knife to the skull.
“Shh! Too loud,” I whispered, holding my head in my hands.
“What the hell is wrong with you? You look like hell. Are you crying?”
“My head!”
“Okay…”
“It hurts.”
“Damn, man! Sit down. You’re pale as a ghost. You look like you’re gonna pass out.”
“Can’t…can’t sit still.”
“Fuck! I’m calling Sarah-”
“No!” I pushed it out through my gritted teeth. “Don’t call her. I have a – an – I’m going to the circus…fuck, I mean the doctor.”
“Yeah, you’re going to the circus alright – in an ambulance.” He pulled out his phone and I stared at him. I wanted to tell him no again, but I couldn’t remember about what. What is his name? Fuck! Why can’t I think?
“Yes, my name is Michael Penner. I need an ambulance sent to 546 Amon Carter Blvd. It’s the Penner/Styles building and we’re on the third floor…I’m not sure. He said his head hurts, but he’s white as a ghost and he’s saying crazy things…no, he’s not mentally ill. No! He doesn’t have a weapon. He’s not threatening anyone. Shit! He’s sick, isn’t that what ambulances are for? Okay…thank you.”
I could hear everything he was saying, but the words were like bouncing around inside my skull. They wouldn’t settle down long enough for me to grab hold and make sense of them. I kept moving though. Somehow, that made me feel better. My sister’s husband is back on the phone. Why the fuck can’t I remember his name? What the hell is wrong with me? “Sarah, something is really wrong with Kyle….Yes, it’s a headache again, but this one is different…He’s pacing all over the place…He won’t sit down…He’s not making sense, Sarah. I’m not putting him on the phone. I called an ambulance.”
I felt myself falling, but I forgot that I was supposed to put my hands out. The last thing I saw was the desk right before my already aching head slammed into it.
*******
My eyes felt heavy, like they were taped shut. I had this panicked feeling in my chest like I was going to be late for something and I needed to wake up. I pulled at them and I tried to lift my arms so I could rub the sleep out of them. My arms wouldn’t move, I felt like I was tied down. The panic in my chest got worse and I suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe. An alarm was going off. I thought it was mine, until I heard Sarah’s voice.
“Nurse! His oxygen sats are falling again!” She’s yelling…my fucking head hurts. Why is she yelling? She’s calling for a nurse. Did I go to the doctor? “Nurse!”
“Calm down, Sarah, she’s coming.” My dad…Shit…if Dad’s here, it’s a lot worse than a doctor’s appointment. Fuck! Another sharp pain raced through my skull.
“He could suffocate by the time they drag their lazy asses in here!” That’s my sister – always looking out for me. I waited for the pain to pass and tried my eyes again. The screeching alarm had stopped, at least, and I felt like I got a good breath in. I felt the air hit my left eye as the lid fluttered up slightly…and then the right one. Everything was blurry, but they were open, kind of. I was looking out through watery slits. It was like I was underwater and staring up at everything. There were machines and tubes hanging up over my head. I tried to turn slightly, but that was a mistake. That brought back the pain and that fucking loud alarm again – and Sarah’s screeching.
“I’m right here, Mrs. Penner.” That one was unfamiliar. It must be the nurse Sarah keeps yelling about. The alarm stopped and the pain began to subside. I cracked my eyes open and to see the watery outline of a middle-aged woman’s face looking down at me. “Well, look at that, you’re awake. Can you hear me, Mr. Cloud?”
“Kyle!” Oh Jesus, Sarah stop yelling! I blinked my eyes, trying to clear them, and I felt someone wipe the edges of them with a towel or something. I was able to focus them slightly. Sarah’s face was there now on the other side. She looked like she’s been crying. There’s Dad now leaning in over her. Maybe I’m on my deathbed. “Kyle, can you hear us?”
I’d have to be deaf not to. I tried to say it out loud, but for some reason, the words came out all jumbled up. They were more like random sounds. Sarah looked at the nurse, and I heard the older woman say, “Don’t worry honey, he’s still medicated. This is normal after brain surgery.”
Brain surgery? What the fuck? I’m dreaming. That’s what this is. It’s a weird, bad dream. Sometimes when I finally fall asleep after the headaches, I have weird dreams. This
has to be one of them. I tried to move my head again. If this was a dream, I should be able to do that… My head didn’t move, but a strange sound came out of my chest. “Kyle, honey are you in pain?” Sarah again. Yes…I’m in pain. Once again I tried to form the words, but even to my own ears, they sounded like some weird foreign language. What the hell is wrong with me?
“I can give him another dose of morphine, and then I’m going to let Dr. Grant know he’s waking up.”
Morphine? I must definitely be on my deathbed. They’re giving me the good shit. “Kyle, can you blink if you can hear me?” Sarah again. She just can’t let anything go. I closed my eyes. It felt so good that I almost went back to sleep and left it at that…but Sarah was waiting. I opened them again. That time it was a little easier. Sarah was still above me. I think she’s crying. Dad, too. I wonder if I should pray or something.
“There,” the nurse’s voice again. “I gave him his pain medicine. I’m going to call the doctor. Mrs. Penner, you can use the call bell if you need me.” I wished that I could remember how to laugh. Sarah must be driving her crazy. I love my sister, but she is a huge pain in the ass. I’m not sure how my brother-in-law stands her.
The heaviness of sleep began to tug at me, and I couldn’t even manage holding my eyes open in a slit any longer. I let them close, and I heard the hushed voices of my father and my sister as sleep pulled me under.
*******
When I finally really woke up, I found out that I’d been in and out of it for four days. Apparently, the day I passed out and Michael called the ambulance, they did an MRI when they got me to the ER. They found out why I’d been so tired lately, having the headaches, and being confused – I had a brain tumor. They took me straight to surgery and removed it. The doctor just came in to tell us it was benign. I guess I should be happy that it was at least not cancer, but I was currently in the midst of feeling sorry for myself.
I can talk, but it’s barely understandable. The words in my head come out of my mouth all jumbled up most of the time. I’ve never been so frustrated in my life. When trying to tell someone that you have to pee becomes an almost insurmountable task, you know you’re fucked. At one point when my sister and father had gone to get something to eat and my nurse wasn’t around, I tried to get up. I managed to get over the side rail and lower my feet to the ground, but the fact that I was tangled up in all the wires wasn’t why I found myself on the floor a few minutes later. My right leg wouldn’t move. I took a step with my left and expected the right to follow. When it didn’t, I went down on my face. I got a lecture from some terrified nurses – and then they got a lecture from my over-bearing sister. My dad did what he usually did in situations like that. He stared at me with those dark, worried eyes and let Sarah take charge. So now, I was relegated to being completely helpless and totally dependent on everyone around me. I hated it and every so often I wished that I had just died.
“Kyle?” I thought about not opening my eyes. I love my sister, but I wish she would just go away and take care of her family. “Kyle, Greg’s here.” My eyes flew open at that. What the fuck is he doing here? My eyes took several long minutes to focus, but I was getting used to that. When they did, I saw the face of the man who used to be my best friend. We were so close that he was like the brother I always wanted and never had. From the time we were little and riding our bikes in circles around the house, right up to the day I walked in and found him in bed with the only woman I had ever loved. At least it was before the tumor and my limbs were coordinated enough to beat the shit out of him. I guess my weakened state gave him a sense of security now.
CHAPTER TWO
AMBER
I got out of my car in front of the hospital and as I was gathering up my things a big gust of wind came up and blew my papers right out of my hands. “Shit!” I started running around like a maniac in the parking lot trying to grab them all before they blew away or someone came along and ran them over. I should have taken the time to put them all away in my bag before I left the clinic, but I’d been running late since I opened my eyes and saw that I’d over-slept by an hour this morning.
“Here you go.” I looked up at the sound of the deep voice. A blonde-haired man with really deep blue eyes was standing over me as I bent down and tried to fish one of the papers out from underneath a car. He was holding out a handful of the papers I’d lost.
“Thanks, that wind caught me off guard,” I said as I pushed to my feet and took them.
He smiled. His face was tan, and he was built like a long, lean surfer. There wasn’t much call for those in Dallas, but he was really cute – if you liked that type. “No problem. Here, I’ll get the one under the car for you.” He dropped down like he was going to do a push-up and held himself up with one arm as he reached under the white SUV. A second later, he was back on his feet and handing me the lost paper.
“Thank you, I’m such a mess.” The big, blond guy ran those blue eyes down my body. Although I was dressed for work in my black scrubs and white lab coat, he was looking at me as if I was dressed to go out to the club.
“You don’t look like a mess to me,” he said. Smooth operator…I hate players. He held out his hand and said, “Greg Falcone.”
Reluctantly, I shook it. “Amber Reed…and I’m late. Thank you again for your help.” I started stuffing the papers in my bag. I’d have to organize them once I got inside and out of the breeze…and away from Casanova. He watched me until I’d stuffed every one into the bag and locked my car.
Then he said, “I’m on my way in to see my friend. I’ll walk with you.”
Great. I wonder if he’d still be so interested if I told him that my boyfriend is a bull-rider who collects guns in his spare time, drinks like a fish, and loves nothing better than a good fight. I thought about Dylan. He’d come home at three a.m. this morning and as usual, he was to blame for my bad start to the day. He’d wanted sex, and I tried to say no. I could smell the whiskey as soon as he’d walked into the room. I pretended to be asleep, but he knew I was faking it and within seconds of him stripping down and climbing into bed with me, his drunken hands were everywhere. I eventually gave in just so he’d leave me alone. The drunken bastard barely managed a few thrusts before he had his orgasm and passed out. It took me another hour to fall back asleep as my mind once again went through all of the reasons I should leave him.
My new “friend” Greg and I walked through the hospital lobby together. When we got to the elevators he said, “Are you going up?” the truth was that I needed to, but I also needed to get away from this guy.
“Not for a while. You have a nice day and thank you again.” I saw it on his face – he was about to really hit on me, ask for my number or something. I looked away and said, “Oh, there’s my co-worker, I have to run.” I left him standing there and walked as quickly as I could towards a group of nurses I didn’t even know. Once I was around the corner, I slipped into one of the family quiet rooms and tried to organize my mess. I was here today to assess two patients that were being discharged and the mess in front of me was medical records that the hospital had faxed to the clinic.
Once I had things at least looking neat, I took my bag and went back to the elevators where I’d left Greg. I got on and pushed the number five. My first patient was an elderly lady on the skilled nursing unit. I stepped off the elevator in front of the nurse’s station and Addy, a girl I’d known since high school, was there.
“Amber!”
I smiled at her. She and I were never friends in high school. She was kind of a stand-offish bitch back then, to be honest. She’s a nurse now, and obviously more mature and professional, but she still made me slightly uncomfortable. “Hi, Addy, how’s it going?”
She curled her lip. “It was a full moon last night – they’re still residually crazy.” I laughed. People who don’t work in health care or law enforcement have no idea how true it is that the full moon makes people lose their minds.
“Sorry,” I told her. “I’m he
re to see Edith Sweetwater.”
Addy rolled her eyes. “She’s one of the craziest.” From what I’d read of her chart, Edith is a sixty-two year old with early Alzheimer’s that had recently had a stroke. The doctor thought she would need speech and physical therapy, and that’s what I was here to assess her for. Addy showed me to her room and then slipped out quickly. It didn’t take me long to find out why.
“Lizzy, unhook this bra for me.” Edith was wearing a hospital gown and I doubted there was a bra underneath it. She was reaching behind her like she was trying to get ahold of it. Her arms were short and kind of chunky, as was the rest of her. “Come on, Lizzy, I need to get this thing off.” I had no idea who Lizzy was, but since I was the only other one in the room, I assumed she meant me.
“Edith, can we just talk for a few minutes? My name is Amber Reed-”
“God damn it, Lizzie! Unhook this bra!” I sighed and went closer to the bed. I reached behind her and pretended to unhook something, letting my fingers brush against her bare back. I looked at her face and she looked relieved. “That’s so much better. Thank you, honey.”
“You’re welcome, Edith. Can we talk now?”
“Sure, Lizzy, but hand me the cat first.” That was about how our entire conversation went. Her speech seemed pretty clear to me, but it was hard to tell where the Alzheimer’s ended and the problems the stroke caused had begun. The physical assessment was easier, but it still took a lot longer than I’d anticipated. By the time I was back on the elevator to go up and see my next patient on the sixth floor, I was over an hour late.
I read some of his file as I stepped off the elevator. His name was Kyle Cloud and he was twenty-seven. Six days post-surgery for removal of a benign tumor located in his pre-frontal cortex, the doctor was referring him for speech, occupational, and physical therapy.
“When is she going to get here? My brother is getting impatient!” I walked past the nurse’s station barely registering the raised voice until I heard the nurse’s response.