Little Moments

by Madison Street

  Dr. Ferguson loosens the brace and presses against Roman’s back with the palm of his hand. “Let me know if you feel any pressure or discomfort.” His hand moves from spot to spot on his back, but Roman keeps silent.

  He looks at Roman, seeking an answer. “Nothing?”

  Roman shakes his head no. Dr. Ferguson steps back and clasps his hands together, pondering a theory. “Ok, let’s get you into radiology. I want to see that back of yours again. Looks like you’re making excellent progress but I don’t want to rule out anything yet. If all goes well, you could start physical therapy tomorrow. How does that sound sir?”

  Roman nods. “Sounds good. Thank you Doctor.”

  We lay him back down on the bed as Dr. Ferguson orders an x-ray. He instructs me to call up to radiology to schedule it and wheel him up there.

  An hour later, a couple of the male nurses help Roman get into the wheelchair. I watch as he struggles to lift himself off the bed, the agony clear in his face. The nurses slowly lift him off and carefully seat him in the chair. I walk up to him and spin around his back, pushing the chair toward the elevator.

  I fight the urge to speak to him as we make our way to the elevator. I can’t help but feel like he’s angry at me. He’s spoken to the other nurses since his outburst, but not me. Maybe he is angry with me about something.

  We wait in silence for the elevator to arrive. Once its doors ding open, I push him inside and hit the button for the third floor. We both avoid eye contact as the elevator carries us to the next level. After the doors open, I push him toward radiology and check him in for his appointment. The technician rolls him toward the back and I wait outside as he gets his scan.

  Fifteen minutes later, the tech pushes him back outside and tells me everything went smoothly and the x-rays should be online in just a few minutes. I thank the technician and we make our way back toward the elevator to head downstairs.

  As I push the wheelchair, I ask Roman, “Are you hungry? We could stop at the cafeteria and get something for you to eat.”

  He ignores my question and I have the urge to just fire back at him. I don’t understand his attitude and I don’t appreciate it. I see he’s trying to push me away but I won’t have it. One way or another, I’m going to push through and bust down his walls.

  Whether he likes it or not.

  Melanie

  THE X-RAY SCANS post online fifteen minutes later so I alert Dr. Ferguson. Within the hour, I see him enter Roman’s room and he stays in there for about ten minutes. I hesitate to ask him what the x-rays showed; I figure it’s none of my business so I go on with my day.

  During my break, I head to my locker and pull out one of the little Christmas ornaments I bought earlier that morning. It’s a small plastic Christmas tree decorated in a silver sparkling glow to give it the effect that it’s shining under the moonlight. I smile as I look at the ornament and stick it in my pocket.

  Later that night, after I know for a fact Roman is asleep, I tiptoe into his room and hang the ornament on his bedside lamp. It twinkles in the moonlight and spins as it shines. There’s nothing wrong with spreading a little Christmas cheer.

  Glancing around the room, I clean up whatever junk is on his table and pick up the napkins off the floor, tossing everything into the trash. I quietly step toward the bed and watch as he rests, hoping he’s having pleasant dreams. His body jolts in his sleep, startling me for a split second, thinking that he will wake while I stand there. But, alas, it’s just his body acclimating to his dreamlike state.

  My eyes scan his face, acknowledging that his burn has healed quite nicely, even after the blisters burst. It’s a shame he’ll have a few scars, but it’s not the end of the world. His dark brown hair has gotten longer since he’s been a patient; it’s starting to grow over his ears.

  With slow movements, I touch his soft hair, feeling it brush against my fingertips. A little surge of electricity courses through my fingers as they touch his hair. The tingle startles me and brings a smile to my face. As I stand over him, watching him sleep, I wish for his dreams to be peaceful and full of happiness. The past few days have been very difficult for him and all I want is for him to feel better about himself, to get his mojo back.

  He mumbles something as he sleeps and I have to fight the urge to laugh. I’ve never watched someone sleep before and it’s quite exhilarating. Before I leave his room, I cover him up with the blanket and make sure his pillow is nice and fluffed. This time, I make sure to be extra careful to not wake him up. Glancing toward him before I exit, I take a quick look at the ornament and smile. I hope it brings a smile to his face when he wakes up.

  Sitting back at my desk, I pull up his x-rays on the computer and look at Dr. Ferguson’s notes. Looks like the spine is healing faster than normal and Roman could start physical therapy very soon. It’s also noted that once his burns are healed, he’ll be brought out of the ICU and discharged.

  A frown creeps along my face as I read the notes. Of course I want Roman to heal and get back to normal, but I also like having him around. Yes, right now he’s a pain in my ass, but it’s still nice to have someone to talk to. Who am I to wish for someone to remain in the hospital? Shaking my head and mentally slapping myself, I shut down the online chart and continue with the insurance paperwork for the other patients.

  ******

  The next day, Roman’s stitches and bandages are removed. His surgical incision has completely healed, and in record time, might I add. The burns on his right side and his right hand have healed with very little scaring. The only scarring is on his face. It’s still a little pink, but it doesn’t need the treatment of ointment anymore. His level of pain has also decreased dramatically.

  I assist Dr. Ferguson with the removal of the bandaging, just in case there are still more blisters that need attendance; no need, since everything is all good. Peeling back the bandage and seeing the burn all healed puts a smile on my face.

  After the removal, Dr. Ferguson gives us the order to begin drawing up the discharge paperwork so Roman can be discharged tomorrow.

  As I hand out lunch trays to a few of my other patients, I catch Roman’s aunt and uncle stopping by for a quick visit. They smile and wave at me just before they enter his room. I’m not sure when, but somehow I grew to liking them, a lot. I think I’ve always liked the Zeppieris, even before I knew Roman was, well, Roman.

  Back in high school whenever I went to get pastries, Mrs. Zeppieri was always so nice to me. She is such a sweet lady and I’m glad I got the chance to get to know her.

  Every time they visit, his mood gets a little brighter. I can tell that he truly loves his aunt. Their chemistry is so genuine and sometimes I wish I had that same dynamic with my mother.

  After a long day’s work, I feel like having a little treat, so I head to the vending machine down the hall. Staring at the bazillion choices that it offers, I’m completely stumped, partly because everything is way overpriced. I mean, who’s going to pay $1.75 for a small bag of chips? That bag is 75% air anyway. I have the urge to just turn back around but I just can’t do it. Every snack is calling out to me. Pick me Melanie! Pick me!

  I give in to my inner fat girl and settle for a chocolate bar, which ends up costing me $2.00. That’s New York City for you. Everything is so inflated. Biting into the chocolaty sweetness, I close my eyes and let out a soft moan. But goddamn it’s so worth it.

  As I feast on my five hundred calorie chocolate bar, I hear someone speak behind me, causing me to spin around.

  “Um, excuse me, Melanie?

  Mrs. Zeppieri stands before me, smiling as she catches me stuffing my face. She giggles. “Hungry, huh?”

  I nod, stuffing the bar into my pocket. “I couldn’t wait. It was calling my name.”

  She laughs. “You never were good at resisting chocolate.”

  “It truly is my weakness. That and a good strawberry cheesecake.”

  “I’ll make note of that.”

  We both laugh at each other�
��s comments. After we calm down I ask, “Oh, I’m sorry. Was there something you wanted to ask me?”

  Embarrassed, she replies, “Oh yes! I’m going senile. Old age is catching up to me. I…I was wondering if you’d like to come to our house for Christmas Eve.”

  Her invitation completely catches me by surprise and I stand there, not knowing how to respond. My silence turns the conversation in an awkward direction.

  She takes my silence as a form of shooting down her invitation. “You know what, I bet you have plans anyway. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

  Shaking away the shock, I quickly reply, “No, I…I’m sorry. I just–didn’t expect you to invite me. I’m flattered, honestly.”

  Her face beams. “So, will you come? It would bring me great pleasure.”

  Hesitant, I can’t help but ask, “How does Roman feel about this? I’m not exactly his favorite person right now and I don’t want to jeopardize your guys’ holiday. Besides, I wouldn’t want to impose.”

  She scoffs. “Nonsense. It’s my house so I can invite whomever I want. He’ll just have to accept it. And I want you there with us. You would not be imposing. Trust me.”

  How could I turn down this sweet old lady? I couldn’t hurt her. Yes, I’d have to deal with Roman’s cranky attitude, but I want to make her day, so I give her a nice warm smile.

  “I’d love to spend Christmas in your home.”

  She squeals and pulls me into a hug. “Thank you! I need to start planning meals.”

  My jaw drops. “But Christmas is not for another two weeks.”

  She shrugs. “There’s no hurt in planning early. Oh, I wanted to say something else.”

  She sighs deeply and looks me with warmth and admiration. “I know Roman is getting discharged tomorrow and I want to thank you for everything that you have done to help him. Having you here is truly a blessing and…and I wouldn’t have wanted any other nurse to watch over him. I know that he doesn’t show it, but Roman feels the same way.”

  Her gratitude sends chills down my spine and a hint of a tear threatens to trickle down my cheek. “Mrs. Zeppieri, I’m so honored you feel that way, but I didn’t do anything special.”

  Her hands close around mine. “Oh, but you did.”

  ******

  Just before the end of my shift, I make my rounds through all the rooms, cleaning up whatever trash they have. Entering Roman’s room, I notice his TV is still on. Thinking that he’s awake, I duck out the door, not wanting him to see me. On second thought, I peek inside again and see him sound asleep.

  I grab the TV remote and shut if off, causing the room to immediately grow dark. The open curtains let the natural moonlight brighten up parts of the floor. Heading toward his food, I smile as I gaze down at it. Most of the food is gone. He ate today.

  Content with his progress, I grab the plate and turn to toss it in the trash, but just as I’m about to drop it in, I see the small Christmas tree ornament inside. My jaw drops and a hint of anger flows through my veins. That fucker threw out my ornament.

  I reach down to grab it out of the trash and clean off the gunk. Holding it up into the moonlight, it still has its shine and sparkle. A sigh of relief escapes my lips.

  I turn to the lamp and rehang the ornament on it. Apparently the Grinch has arrived. Smiling at my persistence, I return to throwing out his food, then I wipe down his dressers and tables and clean the bathroom.

  Washing up the sink, I realize that this is his last night in the hospital. In just a few weeks, he overcame the odds and is now ready to go home. Right now, I wish he was awake, so I could say…gosh, what would I say?

  I rush out to the nurses station and jot down a little scribble on a slip of paper. I head back into his room and place the sheet right next to his cellphone on the dresser.

  A smile spreads across my face as I take one last look at him before I walk out the door.

  See you soon.

  Roman

  THE COMMOTION FROM the hallway right outside my door wakes me from my sleep. Opening my eyes, the blinding sun causes me to squint as I adjust to its brightness. Twisting my neck and stretching my arms to life, a loud yawn escapes me. I lift my hand to examine it: the skin has completely healed. It’s a little sore to the touch, but overall, I can’t really tell I got burned there.

  Feeling down the side of my waist, I brush the area that was burned there as well. I don’t flinch and nothing triggers any pain. Wow, it’s like new skin. The last place to touch is my face and in a way, I don’t want to. It’s the one place that is scarred and I haven’t even seen what they look like; I can’t exactly just get up and walk into the bathroom to see my reflection. Aunt Maggie refuses to lend me her mirror, so I’ve had to deal with the torture of not knowing how I look.

  Brushing my fingers across my right cheek, the skin is soft but not smooth. It’s not bumpy either. It sort of feels almost like the feel of stretch marks, skin that’s been pulled and clumps back together in a sort of wave. The skin is tight and not very cheeky; that’ll take some getting used to.

  Reaching over to grab my cellphone to call Aunt Maggie, I see a folded piece of paper. I take it and read its message. Believe in yourself. –Melanie.

  Her words of wisdom immediately warm my heart, but the despair surrounding it causes the warmth to flee away again. I’m no longer the same man I was two weeks ago. Everything’s changed; I’ve changed. Shit, I can’t even walk right now. The one thing I’ve always wanted, I can no longer have.

  Being a firefighter was my dream. It was my purpose. It was my one and only plan. Even wanting Melanie was a surprise in the mix, but deep down, being a part of the New York City Fire Department was all I ever really wanted.

  When Dr. Ferguson told me that I had a slim to no chance of ever getting back in, I broke down in tears. What do you do when your whole life is turned upside down? How do you pick yourself up and move on from that? How do you live on? Can you?

  He had said that depending on my physical therapy, they’d be better able to understand my healing and better determine if I can be reinstated, but until then, my status as a New York Firefighter is listed as “inactive”.

  I hate that fucking word: inactive.

  It’s worse than the injured list. I sound pitiful, so inadequate. Aunt Maggie told me to stop being a baby and deal with it, but it’s not that easy.

  Everything I’ve ever wanted in life has been taken away: my dad, my mom, my career, and now Melanie. What do I have to offer her besides a shit ton of medical bills and a cripple? I wouldn’t be able to care for her right away and even if I could, why would she want to be with me? I probably don’t even look the same. I can only imagine how hideous I must look now. God, I don’t even want to know.

  I crumble up her note and toss it in the trash. Returning to my cellphone, I call Aunt Maggie and she tells me she and Uncle Vinny will be here within the hour to take me home. Finally, I’ll get to go home. Well, to their place. Remembering that all my clothes are at my place, I tell her to stop by my apartment to grab a few of my belongings first. I’d hate to end up empty handed and have to wear Uncle Vinny’s clothing.

  As we talk, I see a shining light reflect out of the corner of my eye. My eyes land on the Christmas tree ornament hanging off my lamp. Didn’t I toss that yesterday?

  Realizing who replaced the ornament, I shake my head and sigh with frustration. That girl doesn’t know when to quit.

  I stretch my arm and grab the ornament, pulling if off the lamp. Then I twist my body and toss it back in the trash where it belongs. I’m not in the holiday spirit and don’t plan on spreading any Christmas cheer right now.

  Once I end the call with Aunt Maggie, I buzz for the nurse so she can help me sit up and eat my oh-so-delicious breakfast. An hour and a half later, Aunt Maggie and Uncle Vinny show up with a clean set of clothes. Thank god. I couldn’t stand another day in this hospital gown.

  Dr. Ferguson arrives to give me one last check before he d
ischarges me for good. “Be gentle with your body Roman. No overstretching or exercising. Stay seated as much as possible. If you must get up, please have someone accompany you. Now, I don’t know the dynamics of the plan for your therapy, but I would assume they’ll start you off learning how to balance and walk again. Keep your brace on and listen to everything they say. The first couple of sessions will be very difficult for you. You will probably want to give up a bunch of times, but you need to push yourself and pull through. Can you do that?”

  I listen attentively and nod with confidence. “Yes sir.”

  “Okay good. Now, are you going to use the facility here or are you going to choose your own?”

  I ponder his question, trying to decide what’s best for me. If I stay here, then I have a greater chance of running into Melanie.

  I look at him, ready to answer. “I will go some—”

  Aunt Maggie interrupts, “Uh, he will stay here!”

  I stare at her with a ‘what the hell’ look. She looks me dead in the eye, piercing me with her deep brown eyes. The woman means business.

  I roll my eyes, knowing exactly what she’s doing. Looking back at Dr. Ferguson I tell him that I’ll use the facilities here. Aunt Maggie smiles in the background while Uncle Vinny chuckles at his scheming wife. Dr. Ferguson wishes me well and exits my room, sending smiles to my aunt and uncle. Gathering the clothes they brought me, Uncle Vinny helps me sit up, assisting with getting my shirt on, sliding it over my TLSO. Aunt Maggie steps out to give me a little privacy as he lifts me up to a standing position and then slides on my sweatpants.

  Standing with the assistance of my uncle, my legs are very shaky, but at least I’m standing. My feet haven’t touched the floor in weeks and I can’t help by wiggle my toes against the cool tiles. Once steady in his arms, I pull up my sweatpants and tie the knot.

  The brace almost touches the trim of the sweats. I’ll have to invest in a few more, as jeans won’t fit over this brace. Keeping a mental note, I slide my feet into my sneakers just as Aunt Maggie and Jackie step inside with a wheelchair. Aunt Maggie passes me my coat and I zip it on as I take a seat in the wheelchair. Jackie passes me the discharge papers and tells me to sign the dotted line. Once signed, she wishes me luck and a merry Christmas.