UNKNOWN GUEST

#42 A New Ride

The night passed, and with the first light of morning, I realized I couldn't hold it in any longer. I cleared my throat, hoping to get the attention of the nurse sitting on the couch at the far end of the room, engrossed in her laptop. "Excuse me, Ms. Johana?" I called out, trying to sound casual despite my growing discomfort.

She looked up from her screen and walked over to me with a calm expression. "Yes? Do you feel any discomfort?" she asked, her tone professional.

Damn it, how do I say this? I glanced away, feeling a bit awkward. "Ah... can you help me up?"

She raised an eyebrow, clearly curious. "Help you up? Why? You're not supposed to stand—"

I cut her off, feeling a little desperate. "Then how am I supposed to get to the washroom?"

She hid a smile behind her professional demeanor. "Mr. Roberts," she said, stepping closer and resting a hand on my shoulder, "you know, they say you shouldn't hesitate or hide anything from your doctor or your lawyer."

I rolled my eyes, trying to keep the mood light. "Yeah, yeah."

As I attempted to swing my legs over the edge of the bed, a sharp throb in my thigh reminded me of the injury. She quickly stepped in to warn me, "Take it easy. Don't apply too much pressure on it. Lean on me."

She moved to my left side, and, as awkward as it felt, I draped my arm around her shoulder, making sure not to put too much weight on my left leg. With a slow, limping stride, I made my way to the washroom in the corner of the room.

When we reached the door, she let go and gestured for me to go inside. "If you need any help, don't hesitate. It's my profession."

I nodded, appreciating her offer but hoping I wouldn't need to take her up on it. She closed the door behind me, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I get that it's her job, and I respect that, but there are some things—like answering nature's call—where you just can't expect a guy to ask for help from the opposite gender. It's one of those situations where, no matter how professional the setting, you can't help but feel a bit embarrassed.

A few hours later, Dr. Cho walked into my room with Ms. Johana in tow. They went about their routine, carefully placing my thigh into what looked like a high-tech scanner. The room was filled with the faint hum of machinery as they inspected my injury.

Once they were done, they helped me back onto the bed. Dr. Cho turned to me with a professional but reassuring smile. "There's no sign of clotting yet."

I raised an eyebrow, feeling a knot of worry in my stomach. "Nothing to worry about, right?"

She nodded, still smiling. "Yes, it's a good sign."

Just then, Uncle Tony strolled into the room, looking chipper as always. "Hello, Dr. Cho. Hi, Red."

Dr. Cho sighed slightly, probably used to Tony's knack for showing up at the most inconvenient times. I gave him a half-hearted wave.

Tony came over and asked Dr. Cho, "Won't he feel trapped if he doesn't move around a bit?"

Dr. Cho glanced at me. "It's fine if he can use crutches."

I shook my head immediately. "No, I'm not using crutches."

Dr. Cho raised an eyebrow but kept her thoughts to herself. Tony, not one to be easily deterred, suggested, "How about a wheelchair?"

I sighed, feeling a bit exasperated. "No, Mr. Stark. Please don't bother. I'll be fine in bed."

Tony shrugged, not really pressing the issue. "As you wish."