Page 139 of Forever Offsides

“Yeah, I bet that doesn’t feel good. I’m going to examine you, but press this.” She hands me a clicker with a red button on the end, and I hit it, giving myself a bolus of whatever pain medicine they have me on. Bring on the drugs. “Neuro will be in during rounds to look at you.”

“Joy. Nothing like being part of rounds as a patient instead of the doctor.”

She smirks. “I think it’s safe to say you’re neurologically intact, as is your sarcasm.” She stands and pulls her stethoscope off her neck. “Ready?”

Katy examines me, which is no walk in the park. I have a gnarly scar that she looked at beneath the dressing, but it appears to be healing well.

“I guess I won’t be wearing any two-pieces for a bit.” That makes me frown as if I’ve already heard someone say that, but I can’t place it.

“Why? Fuck them,” she tells me. “I had a C-section that wasn’t so pretty, and I plan to wear my bikini next summer.”

I love that, and I smile. She’s right. Fuck them.

She tells me she’s going to have my nurse get me up today, and I can already say I’m not looking forward to that, but I do want to get up and not only get rid of the catheter in my bladder but get out of here.

It’s going to be a long recovery, and I’m not looking forward to all the mothering my mother will do. Not to mention everyone else.

But I’m lucky to be alive.

My family has been here. And so has Rhett.

Neuro rounds on me, and I receive a lot of residents' pitying glances and show-off responses. But the attending deems my ICP stable enough for me to get up and declares my cognitive function intact after doing a full neuro workup. Thanks for that.

Finally, they remove my catheter, and the nurse works to get me up.

“Do you want to sit in your chair?”

“Sounds thrilling.”

She laughs lightly. “Sit like this for a minute with your legs dangling over the edge of the bed. Your heart rate went up a little, but your BP is holding firm. Let’s give it another minute so you don’t get dizzy.”

“This sucks.”

“I know,” she says gently. “Today will be hard. Tonight you’ll feel worse. By tomorrow afternoon, you’ll be feeling stronger, and we’ll have PT and OT come in and work with you. Hopefully by Thursday or Friday we can get you home.”

“That would be lovely.”

“Any dizziness?”

“A little,” I admit sheepishly. “But I still want to try.”

Knock, knock. Both of our heads swivel toward the doorway, and Rhett is standing there too handsome for words, despite the fact that he looks absolutely wrecked.

I scowl. “When was the last time you slept, Coach?”

He chuckles and runs a hand through his hair. “Glad to see you’re back to your old self of sassing me.”

“You look rough.”

He rolls his eyes at me. “You do too. But beautiful. May I come in?”

“Sure.” My stupid heart rate is going up on the monitor, and I sigh, glaring balefully at it. “Traitor,” I murmur, making both him and my nurse laugh.

“They don’t allow flowers in the ICU,” he says apologetically even as he eyes the nurse.

“Nope. It’s a clean environment here.”

“I’ll have to wait till you’re home to get you some then. Can I do this?” Rhett questions.