Kickdrum Beating in My Chest Again (Alternate Version)

Chapter 55

Chapter 55

******Trigger Warning for Mentions of Drug Use, Graphic Violence, and Rape******

When Patrick wakes up the next morning, he feels so much better! His head doesn't hurt anymore, and he feels like the concussion is completely gone. Gabe must've spent some time healing him last night. Overall, he feels better, but the pain comes rushing back and hits him like a train. He does notice that the pain is more localized now rather than all over his entire body, which is good, but it doesn't make the pain any better. Patrick presses his button to call for the nurses or Spencer. A few minutes later, a man wearing a white doctor coat enters the room with the vial of fentanyl.

"Um...who are you? Where is Spencer?" Patrick asks.

"I'm Dr. Woodard. I'm filling in so that Spencer could go home, sleep, shower and take a much-needed break. He will probably be back later this afternoon. He said he was exhausted and was starting to feel like a zombie, so he called the hospital to see if anyone could take over for him. I have your pain medicine. What is your pain number today?" Dr. Woodard asks.

"I feel much better today. My head doesn't hurt, and the room isn't spinning anymore, so that is good. I think the concussion may be gone. My pain is back with a vengeance, but it is more localized to my butt and lower back abdomen. I guess that is good. I don't know. My pain number is probably between an 8 and an 8.5." Patrick states.

"Wow. That's a vast improvement from yesterday morning! I'm going to adjust your pain medication by a tiny bit, since it is slightly better than yesterday. Don't be surprised if your pain worsens during the day. Do you feel like you might be able to stand today? I'd really like to take your catheter out so you can resume normal bathroom activities." Dr. Woodard asks.

"I would be willing to try to stand. I might need help getting to the bathroom though. I'm kind of over the whole catheter thing too. You do know that I'm a doctor, right?" Patrick asks.

Dr. Woodard gives him a strange look.

"I'd be happy to explain why I'm here, but I'm having trouble focusing on anything other than the pain right now. Could you please give me my medicine and then I will tell you the short version of it?" Patrick explains.

"Yes. Of course." Dr. Woodard says as he measures out the correct dose and injects it into Patrick's IV.

Patrick closes his eyes and waits for it to kick in. He gets that foggy feeling where his muscles feel tired, his arms and legs feel heavy, and his pain is substantially reduced within five minutes.

"Better?" Dr. Woodard asks.

"Yes. Much better. Do you want to hear the story, or do you not care?" Patrick asks.

"Sure. Tell me." Dr. Woodard answers.

"Ok. I used to be the other doctor here in sick bay until about a week ago. There was an incident where I was transporting an inmate to the hospital because his injuries were too severe to treat here. Two other inmates were apparently hiding in the ambulance. There was a crash, my patient died, and I was knocked out. During this time, one of the inmates stabbed the other and escaped. When I came to, I tried to help the other inmate because he was bleeding out. I'm not sure how, but the inmate somehow stabilized themselves and tried to get me somewhere warm because it was freezing outside and snowing, and I was turning blue. He ended up sneaking us into a motel room where I could warm up. Then I did something very stupid. I called the prison and told them where to find me. When the inmate found out what I had done, they freaked and bolted. I was brought back to the prison and was looked over in sick bay by Spencer. Once they determined I was fine and released me, I was ready to go home. Then something strange happened. As I was leaving sick bay, we ran into a guard that somehow convinced everyone that I had been arrested for helping the two inmates escape, I was tried, and I was sentenced to five years. I'm being framed because I didn't do any of that stuff. I didn't even have time to be arrested, tried, and sentenced in the same night. Well, everyone, including the warden, was convinced that this had actually happened, and the warden had me booked into the prison to start my sentence. I was assigned a cell and was given the prison uniform. I have been "on the inside" since then.