I See You
Chapter 1
He grabbed the dingy beige tray with his left hand and with no regard as to direction sent the well-worn heavy plastic food holder hurling through the air, rotating end-to-end like a Frisbee. The food laden flying object continued along its trajectory until it careened into the wall opposite his hospital room. The anger launched projectile narrowly missed two burly orderlies working in the hallway. Fortunately, the audible whirling sound alerted the two that something airborne was quickly approaching. The orderlies, given their size, were actually quite agile as they quickly jumped back out of the way as the tray smashed up against the wall.
"Damn! How did he manage to fling that thing through the door without being able to see", said the larger of the two orderlies.
"Man I don't know, but he's been throwing trays since he got here. He got me in back Wednesday. If he keeps this up he'll be placed in the psych ward."
"What the hell is Benson waiting on? His aim is getting better and soon or later, someone is going to hit in the head. He's been here more than a month and usually after a week of behavior like this the patient is sent to the psyche ward."
"The word is his daddy is some political big wig and the major there is some kind of decorated hero."
"Whatever man, you got this?"
"Yeah, I'll clean up this mess up."
"Check you later and don't forget we're going to Mulligan's tonight." The smaller of the two men then beat a hasty to his next assignment.
"I told you I'm not hungry, barked Fitz. Just leave me alone! Why can't you people just leave me alone! I'm not hungry! I don't want to call my family! I don't want to take a stroll in the garden and I sure as hell don't need to talk to somebody!"
Emma was in tears. She did not know what to do. It was her first day volunteering and she had spent so much time making sure her uniform and hair were perfect. Now she stood there covered in gravy, hat askew but perfect hair. She had used enough hairspray this morning her hair could withstand gale force winds.
Dr. Benson stood next to the young woman who was so frazzled by Fitz' outburst she could not move or speak.
"Major Grant we're just here to help you. To help you transition back into civilian life and live a full live with your disability. We just want to help. You've served this country admirably and with honor and it is the duty of the staff of this hospital to serve you just as admirably. We're here to represent the millions of Americans who recognize your sacrifice and who only want to help you", said Dr. Benson.
"Transition! Transition! Transition to what? I'm blind and I can't move my legs. My life is over. The minute the bomb exploded my life was over. Why didn't they just let me die with everyone else?" Fitz yelled.
Dr. Benson slowly and calmly approached Fitz. He gently placed his left hand on Fitz' right shoulder. He wanted to try to reassure him in some way that he would be able to get through this, that he would be all right.
"Major Grant, you are no different than any other returning military officer. I know this is difficult for you and I will not lie to you and say the adjustments you need to make will be easy. What I will say is that you don't have to go through this difficult time alone. We have support groups, therapists and psychiatrists ready and willing to help you in every way you need. You are not alone."
Fitz stared in the direction of the doctor's voice for a few seconds. He placed his hands on the wheels of his wheelchair and began to roll toward the direction he thought would lead him to the bathroom. He needed to take a dump bad and refused to be in a position where he had to ask someone to wipe his ass. The one aspect of therapy he had been faithful to work on since coming to the hospital was exercising the muscles that control his bowel and bladder. He refused to be reduced to an infant when it came to basic bodily functions. He rolled as quickly as he could and began to extended his left out in front of himself as he assumed he was nearing his target, the bathroom door handle. He in advertently ran into the petrified Emma who was at present completely in tears. He hit her with such force that she toppled over and before he could regain control he was on the floor next her lying in a pool of his own urine and feces. Emma sat up and looked at her hands covered in pee, Fitz' urine had spread. Her crisp clean red and white uniform was now wet, yellow stained and reeked.
'Shit, fuck, damn it! Mother fuck…."
"Major Grant, shouted Dr. Benson. Emma you okay?" Emma just continued to sit on the floor staring at her hands. Still speechless, she simply shook her head and gazed up at Dr. Benson, then at angry Fitz sprawled next to her.
Harold, the larger of the two orderlies that had remained in the hallway, witnessed the wheelchair collision and quickly made his way into the major's room to assist. He joined Dr. Benson to help the now hiccupping Emma stand up. She wanted desperately to wipe the tears from her face but seeing as her hands were covered in excrement that would have to wait. She thanked the two and left the room without saying another word to the major. Harold and Dr. Benson next turned their attention to Fitz who was still hurling an unrelenting barrage of expletives.
Fitz was angry, mortified and just plain feed-up. This was not his life. This was not his body. The lack of control was killing him. He had always been a disciplined person. He ate right, he exercised, he was balanced in his approached to life's affairs. He was a nice person. How could this be happening to him?
"Major Grant, Harold here is going to help you clean up and change gowns. I am sorry this happened but why didn't you say you needed go to the restroom?"
Fitz struggling to right himself reluctantly grabbed unto Dr. Benson and Harold has they both reached down to lift him back into his wheelchair.
"Since when do I need permission to relieve myself?"
Just then Big Gerry and Mellie walked into Fitz' room. Mellie let out a subtle but clearly audible gasp and covered her mouth as she looked upon the soiled shell of a man she planned someday to marry. Good thing Fitz was blind; he was spared from seeing the expression on Mellie's face. It was a combination of disgust and disappointment. After all, she and Fitz had plans and this helpless angry Fitz was letting the team down.
There Mellie stood, perfectly coiffed hair, flawless make-up, impeccably dressed in her blush and ecru sundress and wedged heels. As she continued to look at Fitz, she thought to herself, "Why the hell did I spend so much time trying to look drop dead gorgeous for a man who cannot see me?" She also wondered why she was there. She knew she was not the stand by your man no matter the cost type of woman. All she wanted to do was haul ass out there, jump in her car and find the next promising Mr. Right. She wanted out of this politically arranged relationship. Nevertheless, she knew she was stuck; she was flanked on the right by the elder Grant one of the architects of this unofficial official union. He rubbed her shoulder and gave her a reassuring glance. He then proceeded to address Dr. Benson.
Big Gerry scowled at Dr. Benson, and then began to lob a series of expletives that rivaled Fitz' recent homage to profanity. "Why is my son covered in piss and shit? What's with the mess on the floor in the hallway? We could have slipped and broken our necks. What kind of outfit are you running here?" Big Gerry and Mellie gingerly sidestepped the human waste on the floor of Fitz' hospital room and maneuvered themselves the clean section of the floor next to Fitz' bed. "Well I'm waiting for an explanation! My son is a decorated officer and should be treated as such."
Fitz sat in his wheelchair shaking his head from side to side. " Can my life get any worse, he mumbled under his breath. Just push me over the nearest cliff and call it a day." Without saying a word, Harold wheeled Fitz into the bathroom, shut the door behind them and began to clean Fitz up.
Tears filled Fitz' eyes. "This is not my life, this can't be my life." He just kept repeating the words over and over again in a fraught whisper.