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.
So I called out, “Hey, Weaver?”
Weaver wasn’t six-foot-five, but he was close.
And the lesser of two evils.
“Yeah?” He pushed the door open and peeked inside.
“I lied,” I said. “Not only can I not get to my tampon, but I can’t wipe, and I’m pretty sure I can’t stand up. Do you know any females that…”
He pushed the door open all the way, slipped inside, and closed it behind him.
