When We Met - Marni Mann Page 0,4
would happen. He has you on a pain pump.”
Several bags hung on an IV pole near my father, and the machines behind me were making a noise that was now echoing in my mind.
“What surgery?” I coughed, and the pain strangled me. “Fuck!” I froze, waiting for the waves to calm, for the stabbing to stop suffocating me.
“Honey, try to breathe.”
“Those bombing fucking bastards. Look what they did to my son!”
“Miles, this is the last thing he needs right now. You have to calm down.”
“Quiet!” I shouted at them.
When I could handle the burning, my eyes opened, connecting with hers, wishing they were brown like that afghan she’d once made. I didn’t know why that sounded so good, but I wanted it.
“What the hell is wrong with me?” I asked her.
Her chest was moving as though she’d been running. “The surgeon found several fractures in your spinal cord, honey, starting at your thoracic, going all the way to your lumbar.” She turned around, pointing from the middle to her lower back. “In that area that they call T9 to L2, multiple vertebras were crushed.”
The pain made it hard to swallow, like a fucking boulder was lodged and scraping each time I took a breath. “And what does that mean?”
“It means, your spine is being held together by a rod,” my father said. “And so help me God, if I get my hands on those motherfuckers, I’m going to kill—”
“Jesus Christ, Miles,” my mother spit.
The fog was thickening around me, the longer I stared at her. The only thing keeping me present was the fire in my body that hadn’t dulled a bit.
“The surgery was extensive, over ten hours long,” she continued, her voice not the blanket I needed. “You have an immense amount of healing to do, and some of that will take place here, at Mass General.”
I glanced at the end of the bed, my toes sticking up high against the white covering that was over me. I wiggled them the slightest amount, and an electrical current shot up my body like a fucking blowtorch was under my feet.
“Will I be able to walk again?”
Even though the cloudiness was thick, I needed that answer. I needed that word to ring in the wind and hang low across the water.
“Yes, honey, of course.”
“When?”
“Physical therapy will be by tomorrow to get you started on a program.”
I shook my head; she wasn’t hearing me. “When will my life look normal?”
“Miles,” my mom threatened when my father went to answer, her reflexes squeezing my hand even harder. “It’s going to take some time, Caleb. The doctor said every case has different circumstances. It all depends on your pain.”
Based on the amount I was feeling now, it was going to take years.
She waited until my eyes were on her. “You’re only thirty-three, you’re healthy as a horse, and you’re in excellent shape—that’s all going to benefit you.” She smiled, but it only reached her lips. “There’s no doubt in my mind you’re going to bounce back and be stronger than ever.”
She was trying to mask her fear.
Despite the weather in my head, I could see right through it.
“Goddamn it.” I placed my arm over my eyes, not wanting to see the pity she was also trying to hide, the IV pulling from the movement.
“How about some water?” she asked. The ice rattled as she held it close to me. “Just a sip?”
“Get it away from me.”
She set the cup back down, and the beeping of the machines were the only sounds that filled the room until I heard, “How’s he feeling? Any nausea from the anesthesia?”
A small shift of my arm showed me a nurse had entered.
“He’s in a terrible amount of pain,” my mother replied. “Please give him something else. Whatever you have him on now isn’t working.”
“I’ll let the doctor know.” The rubber of the nurse’s shoes squeaked as she came over to the bed. There was less tugging on my skin as she adjusted the IV. “If you’re feeling up to it, I can get you some soup. Maybe a few crackers?”
“Caleb?” my mother inquired when I didn’t answer. “Would you like that?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Honey, you have to gain some strength—”
“I’m not fucking hungry!”
“Let’s give him some time,” the nurse said. “The anesthesia is going to take a while to wear off. Some sleep would help him tremendously, and I’ll see about increasing the pain meds.”
The sound of the nurse’s soles quieted as she left the room, and my mother said,