Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 70516 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70516 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
I snickered. “Me and pain meds are great.”
“I noticed,” he said. “It’s in your chart that you’re also combative under anesthesia.”
I blinked. “What?”
“It happens like that sometimes,” the nurse said as she started to lift up my gown. “Do you want to see?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
The nurse left my breasts covered, but only just.
The whole right side of my body was covered in bandages.
From my hip to my arm.
“You have some more bite marks going on under the bandages on your arm,” she said. “That’s why you don’t have a permanent cast just yet. Once we’re sure those are healed all nice and properly, we’ll get you in a permanent cast that you’ll wear for six to eight weeks.”
Then she started peeling off bandages, leaving me with the grotesque view of my body.
“Whoa,” I said.
“Pretty gruesome,” Nurse Brenda said. “But one hell of a story, right?”
I studied the claw marks and bites all along my right side, shaking my head as I did. “No issues with my legs?”
“You had those tucked against you pretty tight. Your torso got the brunt of the damage. Your ribs will hurt for a while, too, but there’s nothing we can do for those. You’ll just have to be super careful.”
Of course I would.
“Oh.” I turned to Weaver, who was glaring hard at my wounds. “Do you happen to have my phone? I want to call the school…”
“Already done.” His eyes flicked up to me. “Your sister called them. They know you’re in the hospital. They have a sub covering your classes.”
“Good.” I breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, my cat!”
“It’s at my place, getting real comfortable with my new recliner.” He chuckled. “You’ll owe me a new one by the time that this is said and done. Fucker has some crazy claws.”
“He’s a polydactyl,” I admitted. “He has seven toes on each paw.”
“I noticed.” He paused and leaned closer. “I’m your husband, remember? I should know these things.”
I wondered if he wasn’t allowed to be in here without that “hubby” title.
“Am I in the ICU?” I asked.
“Sure are,” Brenda confirmed. “Bear attack means automatic ride straight in.”
“Awesome,” I said. “I’ll try not to have any more of those.”
Weaver snorted.
“All the wounds are looking really good,” Brenda said. “You’ll have some gnarly scars by the end of this, though.”
“Will I?” I asked. “I heard chicks dig scars.”
Weaver’s snort was louder this time.
“The doctor hasn’t said that you can be up and about yet, but I imagine that’ll come sooner rather than later.” She eyed me carefully as she started to retape up the bandages around my side. “You have a Purewick on, so if you need to go, go. The thing’ll start sucking, though. It’s not like our old catheters. It feels pretty weird. But there are a whole lot less downsides to this method. And we don’t really want you getting a UTI right now on top of everything else you have going on. Now, if you have to go number two, you’ll have to page us. We’ll have to get a bedpan for that.”
Why my face flamed, I didn’t know.
“I’ll hope I can hold on to that number two until I can get to the potty on my own.”
She winked and checked a few more things. “The doctor approved some easy to eat food. Are you hungry?”
“Not really,” I admitted. “But I’m sure I will be later.”
She pointed to a cup with ice in it. “If you want anything else, let me know.”
After my nod of agreement, she took off.
“Your sister was quite impressed with that sucky thing and your nether region. Full disclosure, she’ll talk all about it when she’s back. She’s fascinated.”
I groaned. “She would be. She’s such a weirdo.”
“Also…” He winced. “You’re on your period. Your sister placed a tampon in for you.”
My mouth dropped open. “Of course, because I can’t think of anything worse than suffering through a bear attack and then getting my period.”
“That’s what she said.” He chuckled. “If we need to figure out how all that goes later, I’ll help. The nurse and the doctor didn’t think you’d be able to do much bending and turning for a while. The stitches are in, but they pretty much said it would feel like your insides were falling out for a while. Plus, the ribs.”
“I’m sorry, but there’s no way that I’ll be asking you to take care of that for me,” I said.
Famous last words.
Hours later, when I was cleared to move around as much as I could, I attempted to change it myself.
Let’s just say, it didn’t go exactly as planned.
The good thing was, I was able to get up.
The bad thing was, I wasn’t able to wipe at all.
To add extra insult to injury, Brenda’s replacement was a six-foot-five man named Butch.
And no way in hell was I asking Butch to place a tampon in for me.