That whole visitor thing was exhausting.
Chapter Thirty-One
“No!” He knew that word. He used it a lot here in the hospital. He looked at the walker-deal and shook his head. “No. No. No. No. No.”
He wanted to go home, right now. He didn’t want the walker. He wanted the catheter out. Now.
“He seems pretty sure, honey.” Beau wasn’t grinning, but he wasn’t fighting Sammy on this either. Good Beau.
“Mr. Lafitte, he has to go work on his mobility.”
Sammy growled and pushed himself off the bed, staggering around the room, crashing into things, but staying upright. Wow. Hard.
“See?No!”
“Sam!” Beau caught him before he fell on his ass or something worse. “How about I help him until he’s stronger?”
“I’m calling the physical therapist.” The nurse’s aide went running. Sam didn’t like her—she was fussy.
Beau held him tight, arms around his middle. “Stop scaring me, baby. The therapist is better, though, huh?”
Sam leaned, swaying a little. “T…tired.” Like crashing around like an idiot sucked up all his energy.
“I know.” Easing him back to the bed, Beau helped him lie down, then got him some juice. “She’ll just want to yell at you today, anyway.”
“Home. Beau. Home.”
“Oh, Poot.” Beau nabbed his juice and took a sip. “I want to go, too. Maybe if we hire you a therapist and get you an adjustable bed and all, we can just take you home.”
“Home.” He would figure stuff out. He needed to get the fuck out of here.
“Okay. I’ll talk to them.”
“Talk to who?” Jenny asked, coming in and staring at Sam. She was a very sweet lady, but she could be a ball buster.
“Home. Now.” He was tired of sounding like a moron, so he didn’t try to slam words together.
“That’s not so easy, Sam.” She’d started out calling him Mr. Bell. He’d tossed a cup of Jell-O at her. That had been fun.
“Home.” He needed to be at home, settling down.
“There are conditions you’ll have to agree to.”
He sighed, so fucking tired, so frustrated at this whole fuckingthing. He slapped at the needles still in him, at the bandages on his head. Enough! He wasn’t fucking stupid! He wasn’t a Goddamn idiot and he was going home with his cowboy and his dogs!
“Sammy. Come on. Listen to the lady.” Beau took his hand before he could tear anything, needle or skin. “If we can do this, we can compromise.”
He glared at Beau and just started yelling. He was tired of this shit. He was a grown man, damn it, and he didn’t want to compromise no more and they’d had fucking Thanksgiving turkey in this horrible place and the dressing was foul and what the fuck was he gonna do if he didn’t ride bulls and everybody on fucking earth was gonna blame him for Beau leaving the game and he didn’t want to have any more Jell-O, ever!
“No more Jell-O. Got it.” Beau wasn’t laughing at him, but those pretty eyes twinkled, and he realized he must have made some sense, at least.
“Okay.” He nodded, feeling a little like he’d just rode Twister backward. Twice.
“Can we please breathe, just talk about details, Sam? No one wants you to have to be miserable. We want you well.” Jenny’s touch was easy. “You’re a little flushed.”
“Okay.” Hell, heknewthat.
“Okay.” Jenny pulled up a plastic chair and got her little clipboard centered. “I show you’re going to Baton Rouge in a week.” She held up a hand when he and Beau both opened their mouths. “There’s a therapy center much closer to home that you can use as a day facility, so what we really have to cover here is home care.”
