Jo was awake before she realized it.
Her left hand felt warm and heavy, her entire body hurt, and wherever she was stunk of disinfectant. Jo opened her eyes and closed them again immediately. The light hurt her eyes eliciting a moan of pain from her and she brought her right hand up to her eyes. She could feel a bandage going around her head and some bandaging from just above her right temple to just below her right cheek. Jo didn't remember getting hurt in either place. Now that she thought about it, there was a throbbing in both places.
She opened her eyes again, this time with her hand firmly blocking light out. Jo slowly spread her fingers out as she got used to the light, eventually removing her hand entirely. Looking to her left, Don was sitting in a wheelchair holding her hand.
"You're awake," he said to her with a smile. She couldn't hear him with her right ear.
"You're alive." She smiled back at him.
"Thanks to you. Doctor said I would be dead if you hadn't patched me up."
"That's what I'm trained to do. Why are you in a wheelchair? Surely, you can walk?"
"Yeah. I can walk. I just get a little lightheaded from the effort, so they are forcing me to use a wheelchair until I'm healed a little more."
"Makes sense. Don't need you busting the stitching on a blood vessel. Where are we anyway?"
"Somewhere in the Atlantic, on an ocean liner retrofitted to be a temporary hospital ship."
"A hospital ship," she mumbled to herself, mulling it over. To her it had been seconds ago that she was in Fury being shot at by Nazis. To be on a hospital ship meant they were going back to America, but France would have been where they were sent to be hospitalized. "What about France?"
"We were in France for a few days and then they started to send everyone home."
"What? Why? Aren't we needed in Germany?"
"You know better than I, anyone that makes it to a real hospital is a lost cause for the battlefield. Besides, the Germans officially surrendered this morning."
"There is no fucking way Hitler surrendered."
"He didn't. He shot himself just over a week ago."
"Figures he shot himself. The fucking coward. Wait, over a week ago?! How long have I been out?"
"Twelve days."
"Twelve days? No wonder you sounded relieved when I woke up." Jo pulled her hand out of Don's grip and pushed herself up to reposition herself. Instantly she tensed as pain went shooting through her side from her broken ribs. She gently lowered herself back down. "Twelve days apparently isn't long enough for my ribs to feel a little better."
"They haven't been giving you any morphine."
"Obviously. What happened after I got you out of the tank?"
"You started to get out and were almost fully out when there was an explosion from the tank. You just collapsed towards the front of the tank. I thought you were dead for sure. A Nazi looked under the tank and pulled you out while Machine and I played dead. Next thing I knew he was shouting to the others that you were alive. They brought a litter over, put you on it, and took you with them."
"They didn't bother checking you two?"
"No. I think they were so distracted by you they forgot about us. I was positive you would be dead in the hands of the Germans, but here you are."
"What the fuck? Wait a minute. If the Germans took me, then how did I get back with the Americans?"
"Captain Waggoner took his men through the crossroads and intercepted the Germans on the way. They found you alive and put you in an ambulance. They had a helluva time getting me out from under the tank. I was stiff and the morphine had worn off." He smiled to himself. "They had to sort of shove a litter half under me and pull me out that way. It hurt like hell and they got dirt up my shirt and jacket because you didn't tuck it back in."
"Sorry. Next time we are both dying slowly trapped in a tank by Nazis and have to make a quick escape I'll be sure to tuck your shirt back in so you don't get dirt up it."
Don chuckled at her and Jo smiled at him.
"Anyway, they were pulling me out and I just started to laugh. I don't know why. Maybe it was relief that I was alive or maybe I was delirious or something. But I somehow found the whole thing funny."
"Sounds hilarious." Jo replied dryly. "Actually, sounds like what happened with me in the field. Question."
"Yeah?"
"Is this ear bandaged or something?" She pointed to her right ear. "Because I can't hear a damn thing out of it."
"Doctors said that the explosion burst your eardrum or something like that."
"Did they happen to mention if the hearing loss is permanent or not? I don't think I could handle going through life half deaf suddenly."
"I don't know."
"Figures." Jo looked up at the ceiling and a silence fell between them. A sudden itch caused Jo's left leg to jerk to the right. She clutched her ribs in pain as she reached down with the other hand to itch. It wasn't until she was settled back in and her pain dulled that Jo realized her left leg should have collided with her right when she twitched.
Jo glanced down at the blanket covering her legs. She started at her thighs and scanned down. Everything looked fine when she reached her knees. Going a few inches farther was when things started to look strange. Several inches below her right knee the blanket had a slight bulge and everywhere after that was empty on the right side. She looked to her left toes, back to the empty area where her right toes should have been, and back to her left toes again.
Jo fixated on the spot where her right foot and toes should have been and just stared. Surely somebody was playing a joke on her. Why would she need to have her leg amputated? She was only shot. Maybe her eyes were playing tricks on her.
"Is it just me or does it look like I only have half of a right leg?"
Don glanced over. "It's not just you."
Jo threw back the bedsheets and took a gander. There it was in all its stubby glory. There was no hole in the mattress with her leg sticking through, playing a joke on her. There were just bandages that replaced where her leg should be beyond her knee. She stared at the empty space on the bed, still not quite believing it. She tried to wiggle her missing toes just to see what the sensation would feel like. Nothing. It just stopped completely. 'Huh." It was strange, but not unfamiliar. She couldn't feel the area around her waist either, but it didn't hinder her any and she had gotten used to it. She would get used to this too.
"You aren't freaking out. Why aren't you freaking out?"
Jo turned her attention to Don with an incredulous look on her face. "When have you ever known me to freak out?"
"After that battle."
"No, I wouldn't consider that a freak out. That was more in line with an emotional breakdown. And beating on Grady and Miles was lashing out."
"My mistake. In that case, I can't recall."
Jo smirked at Don and looked back at her leg. "I can see that it's missing, and I feel that it's missing, but something in me is telling me it can't be missing. That it's there, but not accessible. So don't discount me freaking out later. It just hasn't clicked, yet."
"I've seen men twice the size of you freak out about losing a limb."
"Yes and how many of them weren't in severe pain and just had their limbs blown off by a grenade? I woke up to a missing limb instead. I've seen men with all their limbs freaking out thinking something is gone, and I've seen men missing parts perfectly calm as they are bleeding out. Much like breaking, everybody has a different reaction when it happens. Right now, mine is to stare at the empty spot and imagine it's all a sick joke. What's your point?"
Jo stared at Don, irritated. She knew he was trying to get a rise out of her. Don was about to respond when a nurse walked into the room.
"Sgt. Collier, it's time for you to go back to your own room now." She walked around the front of the bed to wheel Don out of the room.
"Can I have some morphine?" Jo asked.
The nurse startled. "Oh! You're awake. I'll go get the doctor." She walked right back out of the room, leaving Don there.
"I guess that's a no. Does she come to collect you every night?"
"Yes. Why?"
"She's cute with her red hair and freckles."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means she's cute and you should go after her."
"Why would I want to do that?" He asked, incensed.
Jo was confused. "I thought our relationship, if you want to call it that, was exclusively war related. Both of us went into this for some comfort and sex in a hell hole, or at least so I thought, and neither of us expected to make it out of the war alive. Now, as far as we are concerned, the war is over and we are both still alive. The slate is clean and you can have any woman you want. So if you want to go after her, go after her."
Don was silent a moment. "I'm confused. Are you breaking up with me?"
"I wouldn't call it breaking up. We never actually dated."
"Whatever," he brushed the words out of the air with his hand. "Are you ending whatever it is we have?" He stared intently at her.
"Jesus Christ!" She scrubbed her hand down her face and the nurse came back in, followed by the doctor.
The nurse grabbed the back of Don's chair and started to pull him away. "We'll finish this tomorrow." He looked surly as he was wheeled out.
The doctor came over to her bedside and grabbed her charts off the bedside table, flipping through them. If she had known they were just sitting there, she would have had Don grab them for her.
He held them in his lap as he sat down in a chair next to her bed. "Jo, I'm Dr. Lippmann."
Jo snorted. "Great. I'm on the way back to the U.S. and German doctors are still doing shit to me," She mumbled to herself, but loud enough that he could clearly hear her.
"I'm sorry?" He asked confused, while fiddling with his horn-rimmed glasses. "I was born and raised in America. I'm second generation as a matter of fact."
"Good for you! And I'm first, but that doesn't really fucking matter does it?" Lippmann looked taken aback. "Are you my primary?"
"Primary what?"
"'Primary what,' holy shit! Primary doctor."
"Oh. Uh, yes, yes, I am."
Oh god, he is flustered. He must be a new doctor. That or he isn't used to treating patients who swear at him, especially women.
"Then as my primary doctor can you give me some morphine? Because it hurts to breathe."
"Yes, just give me a second to call the nurse in." He stood up, scrapping his chair against the floor.
Jo rolled her eyes. "Oh, for fuck sake. Just give me the damn bottle and syringe. I'll do it myself."
"I'm not permitted to-"
"I'm a nurse. I know how to dose it. I'll give myself a little now and then you can bring in the other nurse to put it on a drip." She gave him an irritated smile.
He nodded at her. "Okay." Lippmann went to the cabinet in the corner and pulled out a bottle and syringe, bringing them back over to Jo. "Here you go."
Jo pulled a small amount of morphine out of the bottle into the syringe and knocked the air bubbles out of it. She pushed the needle into her vein and slowly sank the plunger. There was less morphine running through her than one of the premeasured doses she used in the field. It wasn't much, but it would do.
She settled a little as the pain eased off. "Now we can talk."
"Right." He sat back down in his chair and pulled it close again. The doctor was about to speak, when Jo interrupted him.
"Who was the douche nozzle that decided to chop my leg off? Was it you?" The doctor visibly swallowed and paled. "It was you, wasn't it?" He gave a meek nod and Jo grabbed him by the tie, pulling his face closer to hers. "Why the fuck did you cut off my leg?" She asked in a deadly calm voice.
"I personally didn't cut it off. The orthopedic surgeon did."
"Fine. Why did you two decide to cut off my leg?" She twisted his tie in her fist some.
"There was an infection." He flinched a little.
"Sulfa drugs were poured into it." Jo shook him by the tie.
"The bone. The bone was infected. The bullet shattered a part of it. There was no way to clean it out. He had to remove your leg to stop the infection from spreading and killing you." She narrowed her eyes at the man and released him, satisfied with the answer.
"What the hell else is wrong with me?"
He glanced down at her charts again. "You have a perforated eardrum which is expected to heal with minimal hearing loss. You suffered burns to the upper right quadrant of your face, scarring is expected. You have three broken ribs on your left side and your left lung suffered bruising and a small puncture which has been fixed. Lastly is your leg, which you've already noticed."
"I think you are glossing over some head injury there, Doc."
"Oh, right. Yes. You suffered a blow to the left side of your head. It caused a coma, which you have woken from, and cracked your skull. We don't expect any long term side effects." He put the clipboard down and looked at Jo. "If you weren't wearing that helmet, you'd probably be dead."
"Well aren't I lucky." She stated sarcastically. "Have anything else to add?"
"No."
"Then just go and send in the nurse."
He sighed. "Fine." He stood up and put the chair back where it belonged. He walked to the door and opened it. He paused. "For whatever it's worth, I am sorry about your leg." Jo ignored him and he left without another word.
Finally alone in the room, Jo took in her surroundings. The walls and floor were whitewashed steel and there were a handful of beds in the room, all empty. Probably a women only room. There was a window to her left. Waves splashed up on it. She stared out the window until she heard the door open. The same nurse from before came in.
"How are you feeling?" She asked walking over to Jo's bedside.
"As well as can be expected."
The nurse pulled out the necessary supplies. "That Sergeant, he really cares for you. He's been here every day since he was cleared to move about. You must have taken good care of him."
"What?"
She stopped in her work and looked at Jo. "You're a nurse. I saw your tags. You must have taken good care of his wounds for him to be that smitten with you." She continued on and stuck the morphine drip into Jo's arm. "I wish I were lucky enough to have a dashing soldier sweep me off my feet." The nurse looked lost in thought before she suddenly became panic stricken. "Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to offend you. The whole feet thing when you are missing a leg." Her face was bright red with embarrassment complimenting her hair and freckles.
"It's fine. No need to apologize." Jo cut off the woman's babbling.
"Thank you!" She started to compose herself again. "Is there anything else you need?"
"Do you have a mirror?" Jo asked, not expecting one. The nurse thought for a second and walked over to the cabinet on the corner. She rifled through the shelves and drawers and came up with a hand mirror.
"Here you go," she said, handing the mirror to Jo.
Jo took the mirror and held it up. She was never the prize cow in her opinion, but she looked like shit even by her standards. Her jaw and eye were covered in faded yellow and green bruises and most everywhere else was covered in bandages. She started to remove the bandage near her right eye. The mirror tilted up slightly as she pulled at the tape and she saw her hair. Jo stopped immediately and looked at her hair.
It was far too long and starting to show waves. She was mortified. Jo fingered her hair just to see if it was really that long. It was. How many weeks overdue was it for a cut? Two? Three? She wasn't exactly sure when the last time she cut it was at this point, but it needed to be rectified. Now.
Jo turned to the nurse. "Is there a bathroom with a mirror and do you have scissors?"
She clearly took the nurse by surprise. "Uh…I'm not sure. Let me check." The nurse walked over to a door Jo didn't even notice was there and opened it, sticking her head in. "This is a bathroom. Oh and there is a mirror right there." She pulled her head out and shut the door going back over to the cabinet. She rummaged through it some more and produced a pair of scissors. "Here we are!" Jo was throwing back the bedsheets when the nurse turned around. "What are you-"
"Come over here and help me out." Jo said and swung her leg over the side of the bed.
"Oh, I don't think that's such a good idea." The nurse said, coming over clearly trying to placate Jo back into bed.
"Listen," the nurse nodded her head. "I'm going to get out of this bed and go into that bathroom and cut my hair with or without your help. The decision is yours." Jo snatched the scissors out of the woman's hand.
The nurse thought for a moment and nodded to herself. "Okay, I'll help you. But if we get caught, I'm blaming you."
A big grin spread across Jo's face. "Excellent!" Jo slid herself towards the edge of the bed and the nurse stood in front of her. She placed the scissors on the bed and put one hand on the bed and the other in the nurse's hands. Jo pushed off the bed and immediately found herself flailing and clinging to the nurse. It was much harder standing up than she expected. Her balance was off. Getting up with one leg was hard enough without the other to put weight on, let alone the uneven weight distribution from the missing limb. The head rush didn't help things either.
Once she was properly settled upright, Jo shook the lingering fuzziness from her head. She found herself leaning a little, probably because of the odd weight, but she would work on that later, right now she needed a haircut.
She reached for the pole holding her IV and morphine and pulled it closer. She turned towards the foot of the bed with the nurse's help. "Grab the scissors." She ordered. The nurse did as she was told and placed them in a pocket for safe keeping until they were in the bathroom. "So how do you want to do this?"
"I'm not sure, it's up to you."
"Leading me seems like a bad idea, and I can just imagine hitting the floor if I use the IV and your hand as support. How about I put an arm around your shoulders, you just walk, and I hop along? Happens in the battlefield all the time." The nurse nodded and ducked under Jo's right arm, placing her hand at Jo's waist.
"Ready?"
Jo nodded. "Go."
The nurse started forward slowly and Jo hopped along beside her, dragging the IV behind her. She was glad that the ribs broken were high in her chest, the jostling from hopping didn't make them hurt much. There was a short pause on the way for Jo to catch her breath, but they reached the bathroom without incident. The nurse maneuvered Jo in front of the sink, set the scissors down on the basin, and sat on the lidded toilet.
Jo squared herself up with the sink and leaned her hips against it to help with her balance. Inspecting herself under the harsh bathroom light, she noticed there was still a slight welt by her eye where she was punched. Brown bruising peaked up from the top of her hospital gown. Jo pulled it forward and looked down.
"Oh my god." There were almost healed stitches next to her left breast, but the breast itself was all misshapen and lumpy.
"What is it?"
"My breast looks fucking weird." She pulled down the top of the collar until most of her left breast was exposed. She pressed at it and it was still tender. They were definitely welts. Just the shape of the lumps lent themselves to be from where she had the hatch repeatedly slammed into her. She rubbed at the welts for a few seconds longer before replacing the gown.
Jo picked up the scissors, grabbed some hair, and started cutting. Using the scissors was far superior to a blade, but as long as it was something that had an edge, she could cut her hair with it. She learned how to pretty quickly in the field. The field barber refused to cut her hair every two weeks and he didn't get it right when she let him anyway. He wouldn't let her use his tools either, so she usually resigned herself to looking in a small mirror and using whatever sharp object was handy, usually her bayonet, occasionally a scalpel when she was in the field hospital. Nancy usually tore her a new one when she did that. The thought of Nancy yelling at her put a smile on Joe's face.
"I know that you want to look your best, but why can't this wait?"
"What?" The nurse brought Jo back to reality. She wasn't used to being interrupted during a haircut except by gunfire. Nancy even waited until Jo was finished to start admonishing her. They both liked it better that way. Nancy had Jo's undivided attention, and Jo could experience Nancy's attempts at mothering her.
"Why are you cutting your hair now? If you waited, we could get someone in here to cut it for you. Besides, it's not like it's that long to begin with."
Jo felt like telling the other woman to wait outside, but she couldn't. She didn't know if she would need the nurse at some point, so she humored her instead. "It can't wait. It's overdue for a cut and too long. And if I don't cut it now, it will become the only thing I can think of, and then I'll start pulling at it, and then other shit happens." She started to ramble. Jo sighed. "It's just easier to cut it and forget about it for now." The nurse nodded and Jo finished her haircut in companionable silence.
She cleaned the hair out of the sink, throwing it in the trash can, and rinsed down all the tiny pieces that weren't worth trying to picking up. Jo glanced over at the nurse. She was distracted, picking her nails. Jo picked up the fresh bar of soap sitting on the sink and started to get a lather from it. The sound of the faucet turning on grabbed the nurse's attention.
"What are you doing?"
"Washing my face."
"No. We've been in here long enough and you can't get your bandages wet." She stood up and shut off the water. "Give me the soap." The nurse demanded, hand outstretched.
"No." Jo moved the soap away from the nurse. The nurse reached for the soap and Jo made to step away, forgetting that she was missing half a leg. Losing her balance, she let go of the soap and grabbed onto the sink, but between the soap lather and the wet porcelain her hands slipped and she came crashing down directly on the end of her stump. Jo screamed in pain and instantly clutched at the bandaged leg.
Tears welled up as she lay there sobbing in pain. It was one of the worst pains she had experienced and was such a foreign sensation. Pain like that didn't just happen in what was formerly the middle of her leg. Jo didn't want to know how bad the pain would be if she didn't have morphine. It was already worse than being shot, but not quite as bad as the hot poker had been. Her fall pulled down the IV and morphine whose bottles were now shattered on the floor.
"Oh god! I'll go get help." The nurse ran out of the bathroom.
Jo wasn't sure how long she laid on the floor, but the pain and her crying were constant the entire time. Hurried footsteps and shouting were muffled until the bathroom door was flung open.
"Quickly! Get her up and put her back in her bed," a man ordered. The tubes were pulled out of Jo's arm; blood had been coming back out through them without fluids to counter the pressure. A man in all white scooped her up and Jo let out a yell of pain as her ribs were squished against him. "Careful!" She was carried past the nurse and the man giving orders. "What the hell was she doing out of bed in the first place?!"
"I'm sorry. She insisted." Jo heard a slap as she was deposited into her bed. Fucking asshole.
"Get out of here! You're worthless!" The nurse ran out of the room and the doctor came over to the bed. "Give her a sedative, then get this mess cleaned up."
Jo felt a needle go into her arm and then everything got fuzzy and heavy. She couldn't keep her eyelids open. The pain in her leg stopped and Jo drifted off.
