I'm the worst. Sorry for the absence. Summer has been keeping me busy. I'm ready for colder temps, no yard work, and no reason to go outside!
Thanks to LouiseX for proofing and the occasional friendly reminder about what a slacker I am being!
A few hours later, the pair is awoken by Dr. Owens.
"Sorry to wake you."
"That is ok, is there something you needed?" Linka asks as she climbs out of the bed and runs her fingers through her hair to smooth it out.
"I'm afraid I have bad news."
"What is it?" Her voice now taking on a concerned tone.
"You're going to have to catch up on your sleep in a more comfortable bed," the doctor says as he produces discharge papers.
"Chad! My man! You were able to come through for me!" Wheeler exclaims.
"Linka is pretty convincing. I kinda feel bad for you. I get the feeling she is impossible to say no to."
"You have no idea!"
"How about a little more appreciation and a little less smart ass, Yankee? I'll ask the doctor to rip up those papers," she says.
"And I'll listen," Dr. Owens replies.
Wheeler holds up his hands in surrender.
"Ok, ok…thanks for agreeing to take care of me, Babe. Where do I sign?"
Wheeler is anxious to get the process started before anyone has the chance to change their minds. He begins to feel more relaxed that this is actually happening as the doctor finishes up removing his IV and disconnecting him from the vitals monitor.
"Ok, you're all set. Remember. Take it easy. Anything more than just sitting or laying down could cause more damage. For the next week, no activity. You can start doing light activities like going for walks in a week. I want to see you for a follow up in two weeks."
"Deal. I've been very busy for most of my adult life. I'm looking forward to some downtime."
"I hope you mean that and aren't just trying to convince me," Dr. Owens says.
"I do. Just one question…does the 'sitting' rule apply to sitting on bleachers? My son has a soccer game on Saturday."
"As long as you are not one of those parents that jump up and down and act like a fool."
"Perhaps Mikey should skip his game this weekend. You cannot possibly keep a promise to NOT act like a fool," Linka says smugly.
"Heeeey!"
"I mean it Mr. Wheeler. If you so much as raise your hands above your head too quickly, you could do some serious damage."
"I promise. I will sit there and at the most yell, 'Go Mike!' I will have no reason to jump up and yell at the ref because I know nothing about the rules of soccer so I'll be on my best behavior. Plus I'll have nurse Linka there to keep me in line."
"You believe him?" Dr. Owens asks Linka.
"I believe he very badly wants to see his son play soccer so he will behave himself," she says with a smile directed at Wheeler.
"That's right, doc."
"Ok then. I'll see you in two weeks…and if it's sooner than that, you owe me a drink," he says with a wink.
"Uh…sure. Ok."
"I'll send someone in with a wheelchair to spring you loose. Are you ok to get dressed on your own or do you need help?"
"I'm good. I'm sure my new nurse will be more than capable of helping, if needed."
After Dr. Owens has left the room, Wheeler looks at Linka with wide eyes and asks,
"Was he hitting on me?"
"Get over yourself, Yankee," she chuckles.
Wheeler swings his legs off the bed and attempts to stand, a bit wobbly and causing Linka to reach out to steady him.
"Are you sure you are ready for this? Perhaps one more day here would not be a bad idea?"
"No, I want out. I'm fine. Just a little shaky from being off my feet for so long and still feeling foggy from the morphine." He looks up at the clock. "Judging by the time, I got a dose right before the doctor came in. I'm feeling it starting to take affect."
"What can I do to help?"
"Are my clothes in the closet?"
"Da, I will get them."
She brings over a shirt and running pants that she had brought from home for him. She figured he'd want something comfortable to lounge around in.
"Thanks."
He tries to reach behind him to pull the ties of his hospital gown, but she catches him wincing.
"Here, let me do that. You are not supposed to be stretching. Keep your arms down."
She gets the ties loosened and pulls the gown off, forgetting he's not wearing anything underneath.
"Oh!"
He gives her a full toothed grin.
"Would you mind starting with the boxers and pants before my wheelchair arrives? I'd rather not have them open the door and find me standing here with my dick out…especially if Dr. Chad comes back!"
"Bozhe moy, Wheeler. The words that come out of your mouth sometimes…"
"It's the drugs talking."
She bends down to place his boxers closer to his feet so that he does not have to step too high.
"Lift your left foot. Now your right."
He listens to her instructions and reaches out to brush his fingers through her hair as she pulls his boxers up. He tugs gently so she looks up at him. She finds the silliest expression on his face.
"I swear to God Wheeler, if you say what you are thinking, I'll…"
"You'll what?"
"Leave you here," she threatens as she grabs his pants from the bed and taps his leg to indicate she needs him to lift his foot.
He wasn't taking her threats seriously and decided to say it anyway.
"While you're down there…"
"That is it. I am taking you to your mother's for her to watch you!"
"Whoa! I was just gonna suggest you put my socks on too," he says as he hands her the articles of clothing in question. "Damn Babe, get your mind out of the gutter. I gotta take it easy. You're gonna have to wait a few weeks until you can have your way with me."
After she finishes with his socks, she stands up and shakes her finger at him.
"I should have asked the doctor to prescribe me some extra strength headache medicine before I suggested doing this."
She puts his arms through the sleeves of his t-shirt and then pulls his shirt over his head to finish up dressing him.
"Well that was different. I'm used to you taking my clothes off, not putting them on," he says as he sticks his tongue out at her.
"Will you stop?!" She says, trying to cover her laugh.
Just then, there is a knock at the door. Linka opens it to find a young man in scrubs with a wheelchair.
"I'm here for Mr. Wheeler."
"Good thing you knocked, buddy!" Wheeler snickers.
"Just shut up and get your ass in that chair, Dopey!"
"Oooh, her bedside manner is terrible, am I right?" He says to the poor hospital worker. "Guess my insurance found me the cheapest in home care they could find."
"You need to get home and into bed. The longer you try to stay awake on the morphine, the weirder you get," she admonishes.
"And now she's trying to bed me! Maybe it's not such a bad insurance company after all. I could do worse, eh? She's cute."
"Uh, yes sir."
"Hey, back off. That's my wife!"
"Ignore him," Linka says to the young man, apologetically.
"Right, EX wife. Sorry."
"Stop talking, Lyubov."
"That means 'Love,'" Wheeler says, looking behind him to the guy steering him down the hallway, to the elevators.
"Umm. Cool."
"You better not say anything suggestive in front of Mikey."
When he doesn't respond, she leans forward to look at him, finding his eyes closed.
"At least the drive home will be quiet!"
Once they reach the parking lot, Linka pulls her car around and the hospital worker helps her guide a half conscious Wheeler into the front seat.
"Do you have someone who can help you when you get home?" He asks.
"Yes, some of our friends have been staying with us. His two best friends will be able to get him out of the car and into a bed."
"Ok…good luck with him!" He says with a smile.
"Thank you. I will need it!"
To Be Continued...