enemy to doctor - the hating game

23 - bubbles

"Ugh, shit.", I grit through my teeth while lifting my hand to the side of my head.
Immediately Josh grabs ahold of my face and pushes my hair to the back to inspect my temple? I think that's where the pain is radiating from.

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"No, Josh it was not your fault", I turn to face him and gently take his hand of my head. "I was not really, uhm, in control."

Josh face drops to an even worse expression and I curse myself for being so shit at choosing right words.

"Just-", I startle at finding the right words "leave it. It's fine, it didn't hurt much and-"

I'm being interrupted by a scoff. "Luce, you already have a concussion. We got to be more careful. I shouldn't have-"

Now I'm the one interrupting him.

"No. Cut it right there.", his wrist is still in my hand and I hold on to it. "Please don't regret it. I- I could not take that."

I'm lucky that there's water streaming down the side of my face from my hair so that he cannot see the tiny tear running down my cheek.

His pupils widen and his throat bobs as he swallows the rest of his sentence down. Then he leans to the front and softly kisses the tear away.

"Never in my life would a thought such as regretting a singular second I have spent with you cross my mind."

And with that he pulls me close and hugs my naked shoulders, obviously not minding the water soaking his shirt.
I inhale deeply and recite the words in my head like a magical spell.

Never in my life would a thought such as regretting a singular second I have spent with you cross my mind.

His lips press onto my forehead and I inhale his exhilarating scent. It reminds me off a day at the ocean.
Those are my favorite days.

We remain in the same exact position for a minute before I feel a shiver running down my spine as my body is getting cold. As if reading my thoughts, Josh loosens his grip and presses one more kiss to my temple.
Then he sits back and turns on the faucet again, letting fresh hot water mix with the prior one and my muscles immediately relax at the shift of temperature.

"Bubbles?"

I open my eyes that I have unintentionally closed and look at Josh who is now holding a bottle of bathing oil in his hands.
Thank god, for a second I thought that would be a new nickname.

A slow smile spreads over my features and he doesn't even wait for an answer before putting a generous amount into the water stream.
I lean back with the help of his hand on my spine and moan in delight as a delicious smell, bubbles and warmth take up my senses.

This is heaven. Pure heaven

I realize that I actually said those words when Josh chuckles in response but I am enjoying myself too much right now to think about what ever the fuck is happening around me.
I don't even open my eyes anymore when I hear Josh making his way behind me and welcome his hands massaging shampoo into my hair just seconds later.
He takes his time which I greatly appreciate and even starts to softly massage my neck and shoulders.
As soon as he is done with my hair, he helps me with sitting up and hands me a cloth and sponge with soap to wash myself. He is a big help, I have to admit as lifting my arms to my back or reaching out to my legs is a rather complicated situation with the fresh scar.
When I unluckily twist to the back to grab more soap, the scar tightens painfully and I wince.

"Careful. I don't want you to rip your stitches open. Is it hurting a lot?",

I contemplate my answer but then decide to stick to the truth. I owe him that.

"It's bearable," I honestly state "but it's starting to burn and at some movements it hurts more. I think the injection to my back might have helped with that."

Josh finishes a stroke with the sponge down my back.

"It probably did. That needle was-", he swallows "I've never seen anyone receive an injection of such sorts. Actually, let me check the puncture sites. The gauge of the needle was also pretty big so we got to keep an eye on that to prevent infections."

He directs me to pull my knees up and rest my upper body on top of them. Then I can feel his fingers gently pulling off the bandages from the two places where the needle pierced my skin.

"Looks fine. Stay like that, I'll put some of the tape on both wounds real quick."

He grabs the tape from the counter and rubs the skin dry before placing the tape on the now noticeably aching spots.

"They hurt.", I admit.

"I know.", he sighs. "I'd give you some pain meds through the IV but you already have a large dosis of pain killers in you system so we'll try with some ice and maybe a cream. Okay?"

I turn my head to the side so that my right ear is now resting on my knees and give him a sheepish smile with a little nod.

"You ready to get out?", he collects the wet strands of my hair and curls them around one hand to extract the water.

"Yeah, I guess so.", I agree without actually meaning it. If there is one thing that I am not ready for right now, it's getting out of the warm water and stepping back into reality.
The reality in which I'm about to have a further surgery in a few hours.
Ugh.
I am sure that Josh realizes that I mean the opposite of my answer but he also knows that this is something out of our anger of decisions.
It's not for us to decide.
Without bothering at all I'm being lifted out of the water and then draped in a huge towel. Josh leaves my body with one hand while steadying it with another to pluck a big fluffy bathing robe out of a basket.
I let the towel fall to the ground and his eyes wander over my body for a few seconds before helping me into the robe. It reaches down to my ankles and we have to fold the sleeve back three times.

"Okay, sit down here on the floor for a second and lean yourself against the tub. I'm getting a wheelchair for you and then I'll dry your hair. There should be one in the room next to us so I'll be back in a few seconds."

He sets me down and I wait for him to arrive back with the big wheelchair. He seats me inside of it and even slips socks and slippers over my feet.
He retrieves a brush and a spray out of a drawer and patiently begins the process of detangling and brushing my hair. The backrest of the chair ist high enough for me to lean my head against it and I simply relax at the sheer simplicity of somebody taking care of my hair.
It's incredibly intimate and we don't speak a singular word while the brush runs through my hair again and again until it feels as if it were a caress to my soul.
My nerves calm down and rationality takes over my train of thoughts.
I will be asleep. Full anesthesia. Nothing to be unsure about.
Right?

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This morning it was half of that!!

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