Chapter 38q: Spoonfeeding
Crap. I'm choking. Dear God, is this woman trying to kill me?!
Thankfully, nurse Eyeliner catches on and moves to pat my back before offering me some water. Sure, drowning is a good alternative to choking. That makes sense! But definitely... FORGET ALL ABOUT THE DAMN STRAW THAT IS RESTING BESIDES THE CUP...!
... I would have done the exact same if my cushy gig on a coma ward ended up turning into being someones personal wetnurse!
"Please... more no."
I plead, searching for breath and sanity inside the foggy recesses of my mind. Life is hard as a recovering coma patient.
Life is hard as a recovering alcoholic, too.
But I'd rather not identify as that, either. I can't deny the first, but I haven't had a drop for nearly two years... so I'm technically sober now, right?
"Okay. So we go to physical therapy again..?"
She sounds as if she is asking, but really, I can tell she is just announcing it. The doctor made the schedule. I am only along for the ride, stuck on this wheelchair while nurse Eyeliner drags me everywhere.
"Geez. You've really got a full schedule, Mr. Hatori. First you had the reflex tests, then you had your blood drawn, now we barely had time for lunch and yet we are already off to the next place. You must be excited to still be alive, huh? That's great!"
Hell. It is hell. Not... that.
"Hell."
She frowns, clacking her tongue but choosing not to admonish me. Is she berating me for... ooh. That's a flirty word, right?
"It's.. my name. Hell. Not Hatori."
"Well, that isn't what your paperwork says. See? Hatori. H. A. T. O-."
"YES. HATORI."
I groan at her in what was supposed to be a yell. "I mean, no. Not that. But yes, no. That."
Bah. Words. Why words.
"My... call change."
"We don't have a payphone. They've been phasing those out. But I'm glad to help you make a call, like Tina does for you sometimes..?"
She's the sweetest piece of caked-on mannequin with maybe a degree. CAN'T SHE JUST SENSE ME TO MAKE?
"No no no NO. Name! ... After marry. New life... bad meaning."
Ugh. I swear I'm getting more stupid with the sentence. Probably the...
"Okay. Break. Time-out." She seems to have caught on, and our wandering through the corridors to the pastor.. wait, no. Not a pastor. Ugh. Running guy. That one. We stop for a bit.
She comes to stand in front of me, and I can look her in the eyes now. Moving my neck is still a huge pain in the groin, so in a way, these are the best moments of my day. Getting to really stare a lady in the eyes. She's not the worst-looking nurse in the building. Nice and fit, at the very least.
"Take a breath, Mr. Hatori."
".. Hell."
"I prefer the former, if you don't mind." She lifts up a little cross from underneath her medical garb. Oh. She's religious. Why's that matter?
"I donnn't get it. Hell. Not hell."
She peers me down, no doubt thinking I'm losing it. Hell, so am I.
"Hell? Really?" She seems to doubt me. "Can you spell it for me, please?"
I sigh. Audibly. Please brain, don't fail me now.
"H as in hot. E as in... eyeliner. Another E... because you've got two of 'm eyes. And the L.. of l-love."
She chuckles amicably. "Oh. Heel. Like the back of your foot." she says, smiling and offering me a bit of a wink. "Well, as I said, it isn't what your paperwork says. Did you perhaps not notify your insurance of the name change?" There's even that familiar pat on the knee. Are you in the right line of work, cakeface?
How the fuck would I know, lady? Probably not. Potato tomato. It wasn't that big of a deal at the time!
"Probably not, huh?"
I respond with a fake smile, trying to utter a laugh but soon finding that takes effort I should probably save for my upcoming therapy.
"Well, don't worry. You're going to get a headache getting insurance to pay for all your treatment, but if you've got the paperwork.. well, you probably don't. But the government should have the paperwork somewhere, so you can always request it through those means to prove you are you if the insurance companies try to cheat you out of your premiums."
I snort. "Yes. They do." I have to agree.
"That said, they probably know of your issues to some degree. They can't pay your hospital bills for two years without stumbling across that issue, and somehow somewhere, it must've been paid. You ought to get in touch with the person who was court-appointed to mind your affairs, unless you had a will that set up someone with the power of attorney for these matters?"
Silently, I shake my head before eventually mumbling.
"... Just Matilda."
"Don't worry. I am sure there's some people who can help you figure out all of those details. Tina and I would be glad to make some calls to help you figure things out."
"Uh.. please, I guess. At least to.. to that point. That attorney... plant could help me. Help me get things back to how they were, right?"
She tries not to giggle, but I notice. I messed something up again, I think.
"Because I really, really want to start getting my kids home. Live with them again. Like before. Cute lil' Setsuka... who isn't quite so lil' anymore. Hehe. And that stubborn... troublemaking son of mine. They need their dad, you know?"
Nurse Eyeliner gives me a sweet smile as I talk about the kids, patting me on the shoulder before starting to push my wheelchair once more.
"You'll get them back. No worries."
Those words sound so patronizing. Couldn't she have looked me in the face while making such a bold statement? That was obviously a truth.
... Lie. A lie. Dammit.