Chapter 15

"Karen"

Her fingers twitched against the starched sheet. Her eyelids drifted open. Muted light suspended in a white blob above her head.

There was movement beside her. A soothing voice coupled with a gentle hand. "You're awake. It's good that you're awake."

Different from the voice she heard, somewhere, rolling around in the foggy, just beyond focus, fleeting thoughts in her head.

"A few hours ago I would have bet money you'd never wake up. See, you've proven me wrong. Let's have a look at the numbers."

She blinked and the blurred features of his face popped into slanted view. She liked what she saw. Clean cut. Moss green eyes. Not handsome, but not the Elephant Man either. A couple of tequilas on a Saturday night and maybe, given his seemingly pleasant personality, she might have said yes. Might.

Did she like tequila? She didn't know. It was the first thing that came to mind, therefore it felt right, and it must be so.

"Pulse good. Respiration…" He glanced up. "Well I'd say that's a big ten yes." He flicked his pen over a sheet of paper on a clipboard and hooked the clipboard on the end of the bed.

He lifted the sheet. "Don't worry, fair lady, your modesty is safe with me." He winked. "I'm a doctor, or at least I play one when I'm on duty. Off duty too, if you're into that sorta thing."

He ran his pen along the bottoms of her feet. Her legs stiffened and she involuntarily wiggled her toes.

"Excellent. You know what that means?"

No, she didn't. Doctors were for sick people. Was she ill? Was this a…? She tried to find the right word.

"It means you'll be up and waltzing around once you're feeling better. Shouldn't let legs like yours go to waste. They are fantastic, by the way." He lifted his hand to cover part of his mouth and turned his head as though the quiet room was filled with a hundred eager ears and he wished to impart a secret. "But, they're gonna need a shave. Are you sure you're not French? Bio says American, but I don't know. Your legs say otherwise."

Arms. Face. Back. Every inch of her was sore. Something, a feeling, poked its head through her mental mist. Something had happened. She reached out to wrap her memory around a lone figure etched in black. The shadow receded into the haze, accompanied by the voice of another man, a man much different than the one bent over her midsection.

"Discharge looks good. No clots. I'm pretty confident, given the ultrasound, they'll be lots of baby making in your future."

His latex gloves were smeared red.

Her blood. Sticky and hot between her thighs, rushing out in little gushes that coincided with the thump of her heart.

He unfolded a square cotton-quilted pad, deftly raised her rump, and slid the fresh pad beneath her buttocks, simultaneously drawing the stained pad out from under her.

"I call them bed diapers. Wouldn't want to ruin the mattress. Make you a deal." He stripped off his gloves, wrapped them inside the used pad, and deposited the bundle in an aluminum waste bin. "You stay awake, alert, for two solid hours, get those kidneys flowin', and I'll hook you up with a pair of hospital grade fish net panties. As a double bonus you'll win an industrial sized maxi pad. Give you some dignity. Just a tiny bit. You have to keep the catheter, for now, but I'll drape the piss tube out the side of the underwear. What do you say? Do we have a deal?"

Hospital. That's the word she wanted. Hospital. I'm in a hospital. Why am I in a hospital?

She tried to nod, a feeble tweak of her head. "Y..e.." she rasped. Her own voice crippled with the gravel pitch of a two pack a day smoker.

"Now we're playin' for the same team." He patted her shoulder. "Sit tight, gorgeous."

There was the shuffle of his footsteps and drawer rattle. He returned with a fluid-filled clear plastic bag. "This experimental little miracle drug is something I like to call 'super solution'. Better than granny chicken soup. Good for whatever ails ya," he said with a grin, as he hung the bag on a t-shaped stand next to the bed. "You took a hell of a fall. When you landed you suffered blunt abdominal trauma due to the force of the impact. Gave your insides, most notably your spleen, a hell of a ride. I had to let my fingers do the walkin' and the talkin'. I preformed an exploratory laparotomy and was able to surgically repair a severed artery. Lucky you. You get to keep your spleen. You also get some flank pain and tenderness for the next week or so."

"Th..an.." It was all she could manage.

"Don't thank me just yet. We've got a long way to go, but we'll get there." He leaned over and flashed a penlight in her eyes. "Follow the light," he directed.

Next, he held up his hand. "How many fingers do you see?"

The answer waited on the tip of her tongue, but try as hard as she could it wouldn't come.

He sat down beside her on the edge of the bed. "Can you tell me your name?"

She stared at the badge pinned to his lab coat. The symbols were familiar. They made sounds. A word. What word?

"C..an..t..."

"Hmmm. You may have hit your head harder than I thought. The CT scan looked normal, but maybe we'll run an MRI just to be safe. Don't worry about it right now. We'll get it sorted out."

He tucked the sheet around her shoulders. "My name, in case you're curious..." He pointed to his badge. "Is Ryan. Ryan Mitchell. I'll be your technician. Bag changer. Pill pusher. You need anything, anything at all, I'll be right here to get it for you."

She liked his name. Wondered if hers was just as nice.

"On your chart you've been given a temporary assigned designation. I really hate that. Sucks the human right out of a person. I'd much rather call you something else besides AURE452012."

AURE52012. Me.

"You look a lot like a girl I used to date in high school. She was a real doll. Her name was Karen. Do you mind if I call you Karen?"

Karen. Sounded ok. She could be a Karen.