Chapter Twenty-Three
It was only an hour later when she saw that he was starting to tremble. The fever had turned into chills, indicating the infection was real now. He was freezing and his t-shirt was still soaking wet. She pulled it off of him and covered him with both the large coats. She pulled the sheets of the bed onto his body, until he was covered up up to his chin to keep him warm.
She stayed seated on the bed, running her hands on his back. She hoped it helped to give him more warmth.
When the chills finally stopped, he broke into a sweat. She kept all the warm items on top of him, because sweating was a good process. The more, the better, but she tried to get him to sip some water out of the canteen as well. Luckily, this job proved not to be so hard and she spilled nothing on him or the bed.
She found a towel in her bag and made it wet in the kitchen sink. Gently she cleaned his face, neck and shoulders, getting rid of the sweat. This she repeated every so often, but most of the time she let him be.
It was pitch black in the cottage now. Only some light streaked inside the room through the window by the bed, covered by curtains. Occasionally she looked at the constant move of Jasper's covered stomach. If she looked with squinted eyes, she could make out that he was still breathing. Sometimes, she would see that the movement had stopped, to which her own breaths would falter. Before she stood to check his breathing and pulse, she'd say the same prayer over and over again. She knew it so well, for she had said it many times before to men, women and children very close to dying.
"The Lord will sustain and strengthen him on his sickbed; In his illness, You will restore him to health."
Upon each check up with trembled hands, she'd feel his hot breath on her cheek and a very fast heartbeat on her front and middle finger. That instantly gave her back some hope, while sending another, more simple prayer.
"Thank you, Lord. Thank you."
Nobody could hear how sincere those words sounded, except Jasper's unconscious form.
Time was eating Alice's brain while all the time she stared at the man fighting his way through infection. She checked the wounds every two hours, each time applying some more salve. When she ran out of the salve, she cleaned the wounds with her disinfectant. After twelve hours, she gave him more morphine with a little extra to fight off the pain he was probably experiencing.
He woke up once, very hazy and dreamily. He tried to get up.
"What's wrong?" she asked, placing her hand on his head.
She inhaled sharply when she felt his hot head. It felt even hotter than before.
"Pee," he said, with what she swore a slight chuckle.
"Uh..." she said nervously, remembering the slaughterhouse that was the bathroom.
She herself needed to use the bathroom as well, but had avoided it on purpose. However, she could not refuse her patient's simple wish to pee. With a sigh, she helped him to the bathroom while forcing her eyes not to see what the room was covered with or smell what the room was filled with. It proved to be a hard task and when she brought Jasper's exhausted form to the bathroom, she tried to slip out quickly to give him privacy.
"Alice," he said in a throaty voice.
Her worried eyes looked back at him. He had on hand on the wall and the second on his pants. He seemed like he was about to pass out.
"Lord, renew my strength," she whispered.
In the past, her fellow nurse colleagues would always help the patients in the bathroom to do their needs or freshen up.
Alice had never. She'd never seen another man's or even woman's private parts. But this was her job and she could not run away form tasks that scared her. She would have to take comfort from the fact that her actions would give help to a man in need.
She stepped forward and did the easy job. She unclasped his belt and unbuttoned his pants. Pulling them down until his tights was also an easy job. He still stood with on of his hands on the wall with eyes closed. She feared he would fall asleep and she would have to drag him back to bed while this half pee attempt would have been for nothing.
His free hand was searching she saw and she pondered if he needed help some more or not. She could maybe push his underwear down a little but then, with no warning, his hand had found what it'd been looking for. She came face to face with something she'd never seen before. It was strange and probably the reason why she couldn't even look away.
She saw dark blonde hair low on his stomach. In his hand was his large, thick private part and she saw a stray of urine coming out the end. It landed partly on the ground, partly on the toilet seat and when she snapped out of her shock, she managed to steer his elbow so his aim was in the toilet.
After one more stare, which may have been rude because she was now only staring out of interest, she quickly looked away and felt deep shame. She felt like she'd violated his privacy, while he was barely conscious.