31: Bitter Patience

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There was no before or after anymore. There was only the hospital. Tyler's previous life seemed impossibly distant as if it had barely been real. Had there ever been a time when he'd been able to move around freely in the world, without pain and limitations? Stuck on a bed, only sometimes shifted to avoid bed sores, that reality appeared a mere fantasy. And the future felt even more distant, impossible for him to even imagine. Would there ever be a time when he walked the world again, disabled but able to move past his limitations?

Tyler couldn't answer that question. His mind could barely comprehend it in the fog of antiseptic smell and backdrop of beeping machines.

The last few weeks had been nothing but a string of setbacks. First, it was the chest drain procedure, which ended with him being forced to lay flat on his back for days while his lungs were reinflated. Then there had been a concern about his blood pressure falling dangerously low, probably because of the changed circulation paths in his residual leg, which led to a trial phase of different medicines, each one seemingly making him feel worse. And just as that situation appeared somewhat under control, the doctors noticed that the fractures on his residual leg weren't healing properly, which resulted in a minor surgical procedure.

Even as Tyler was starting to feel better, the effects of the constant emergencies were still apparent: oxygen tubes in his nose made up for his decreased lung capacity, his appetite was basically non-existent since most foods made him puke, and his residual leg, which after the surgery had been cast from the knee up to his groin, felt like a damn brick, heavy, unwieldy, and itchy. What was worst though was the loss of faith in his own body. Tyler was constantly on edge, waiting for something else to collapse, falter, or break.

"Good morning, Tyler." Shruti walked in, carrying a cup filled with pink beverage. "I did walk all the way to the children's ward for your milkshake, so I hope you will at least try to drink it today."

Having been unable to keep down food for days, Tyler peered suspiciously at the liquid. It did look good, appetizing even, but he didn't trust his stomach to accept it. "Maybe one sip," he mumbled, not wanting to let his nurse down.

"That's the spirit," Shruti exclaimed peppily, putting down the beverage in the cup holder and pushing the rolling tray in front of Tyler. While he attempted to lift his shaky arm to direct the straw to his lips, she inspected the numbers on the machine beside him. "Your vitals all look good, soon we may be able to take you off some of the pain medicine."

"Hrrrm," Tyler grunted in reply. The medicine made him feel weird but he worried about the onslaught of pain once the comfortable numbness it brought went away. He took a small sip of his milkshake to distract his mind. The sweet beverage slid with ease down his throat, not threatening to come back up again. Not yet at least.

"Good boy," Shruti commended him, making him feel like a three-year-old, or perhaps a dog. She whisked a hand through his curls, which were actually more of a frizz these days, as the attendants who washed it didn't seem to know how to care for such hair texture properly. "You seem a bit down today though, is your leg bothering you a lot?"

Tyler shook his head. The phantom pains were there, as always, but they weren't more bothersome today than any other day. "It's not the pain," he mumbled, allowing himself to taste the beverage in front of him again. "My head is just... not in a good place."

Shruti sat down next to him. "Do you want to talk about it? I understand that this whole situation must be a lot for you to process. Sometimes just articulating your worries out loud helps."

"Can you answer something truthfully for me?"

"Of course," Shruti replied, patting his hand. "I would never lie to you, Tyler. Remember that I told you that you would be alright when we had to haul you to the operating room? And that was true. I wouldn't have said it if I didn't believe it."

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