“They’re understaffed. The Institute doesn’t have the employees or the supplies to take care of an injury like this,” I said tiredly.
“You should be their first priority,” Charlie growled.
“I don’t care. I’d rather you help me, anyway.” I didn’t like strangers touching me, not even if they were women. And unfortunately, I was about to get a whole hell of a lot of that for the next ten weeks.
Charlie reached out to close and lock the bathroom door, so we could get some privacy. The wheelchair kept me propped up, because I didn’t have much strength in my hips and none at all in my core or back. Doctor Marsh had mentioned that I needed a back brace, but I didn’t have one on me now. I kept sliding down the chair, and Charlie had to pull me up. My arms were too weak to lift my own weight.
“I’m trying to be gentle,” he apologized.
“It’s okay,” I pressed, because it really was. He wasn’t trying to hurt me, and there wasn’t any movement I could do that wouldn’t be uncomfortable right now.
Charlie got undressed, and I watched him put his clothes neatly to the side. Damn, he looked delicious. I was kind of bummed out that he’d refused my offer to get it on earlier, although I really didn’t think I could, at the moment.
Desire washed through me, and it felt blissful, until I noticed that it stopped just below my belly.
The sensation of a hand wrapping around my throat and squeezing slammed into me. I couldn’t feel much past my hips. What if…?
A terrible thought leveled my soul. Ancestors, I loved sex. I wasn’t being dramatic when I said I didn’t think I could live without it. It was important for married people to be intimate; at least, it was important to Charlie and me. What if I’d lost that? What if I couldn’t feel any kind of pleasure at all, and could no longer enjoy what we had?
I refused to go there. The thought was nearly worse to me than not being able to walk again. Even if I couldn’t experience that kind of pleasure, we’d figure out a way to still make it enjoyable.
Wehadto.
Charlie reached up to grab the handheld showerhead, then began spraying my body down. Dried blood and some residual dirt began rolling off of me and down the drain. The feeling was similar to peeling off a new skin. The water slipping down the drain was brown, mixed with rusty red.
I was too sore to lift my arms, so Charlie had to wash my hair for me. I tried to close my eyes and enjoy the sensations of the suds streaming through my locks, although my neck was too tender to tip my head back. Charlie was careful, protecting my face from the wayward water and being extra careful with the soap as he rinsed me down.
I wanted to stay in the water forever, but Charlie said the doctors insisted I could only have a quick wash. He applied a healing cream to my scar, then wrapped me up again. I was honestly kind of impressed with how well he did.
“You’re being so sweet,” I said as he dotted off excess water on my arms with a towel.
“I want to get you better as soon as you can. I’ll do anything to help.”
Right now, all I was looking forward to was another nap. This tiny bit of activity had me very tired. Charlie helped me into a new hospital gown before he carried me back to bed. As he set me down, I beamed as I saw a fresh pot of tulips growing on my bedside table.
Are you pleased? Oberi wagged his tail.I used my Earth powers to grow themfrom seeds I found on the windowsill.
“They’re beautiful, Oberi.” It sure brightened up this dreary-ass room.
Charlie grabbed my hairbrush from the bedside table, which I figured Mama must’ve dropped off while I was in the shower. He brushed my wet hair, and it was the one bit of relaxation that I’d felt all day.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know how to braid it,” he apologized.
“It’s okay, Mama will.” I closed my eyes, and slipped off into another nap without having the ability to protest against it.
Nurses started coming in an hour later, poking me and testing me. I felt smothered and vastly uncomfortable. Charlie nearly punched out the dude who stuck me three times trying to find a vein for an IV. Lady Helga finally dismissed him and did it herself, after she had to apply some new bandages.
I didn’t think the Institute was equipped to handle situations like this, and it fucking showed. They were used to healing inmates who got the crap beat out of them, or kids who needed to detox after overdosing, not major surgery cases.
I couldn’t have anything solid, so this hospital gave me a strawberry smoothie to eat. My sensitive throat ached while I sipped the cold drink. It was pretty good going down, but I puked it back up.
Ancestors, it was awful. I held a pillow to my stomach as I retched, to keep my muscles tight and try to suppress the pain. I didn’t have any core strength left since my surgery, so it felt like my guts were going to come squishing out my stitches as I heaved.
Charlie winced as he held a plastic bucket underneath me to vomit into. “When can she start eating?”
“It’s going to be a struggle. Her digestive system has to get readjusted,” Lady Helga said apologetically. “It’ll be some time before she’s able to consume anything that’s not a liquid.”
I trembled as I finally stopped heaving. I’d just gotten over my issues with food, and now I had to start all over again. This really sucked.
