Candy | MouthWashing Game Curly X OC

𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭

"You're such a dear, Bea."

"Thank you, Lynn," I said as I set her cards to the side of the outside table. Lynn was our youngest patient at 29 but had been in such a bad accident she ended up needing amputation on both her legs and also suffered from slight memory lost. Her family visits often but on days where they couldn't make it, she enjoyed sitting outside and playing cards by herself and talking to other patients when they come out in the garden as well. She reached down and put the brakes on her wheelchair. "I meant to tell you, on Tuesday my... brother is coming with his wife," Lynn said, managing a smile as she remembered her family's future visit.

I mentally noted it. "Alright, I'll put it down in your schedule when I go change your pillowcase. I think Mr. Fern is going to be down soon once Tina is done assisting him." Landon Fern, or Mr. Fern, was 57 and liked playing cards with Lynn. They surprisingly had a lot in common, but I suspected it was because Lynn reminded him of his late daughter. His daughter had been his main caretaker after he started struggling with his muscles and slowly couldn't do much on his own. She passed away from cancer and had him enrolled in our program before she left this earth. He's cranky some days but mostly a delight to talk to after he's had his coffee.

"Thank you, again, I appreciate it," she said gratefully and sipped her orange juice before grabbing the deck of cards and began sorting them out to her liking. I nodded again and then turned around to make sure the gate was latched before walking inside. We have a short fence around the garden out back to keep out any off-leash dogs to ensure nobody gets jumped on and knocked over, but it's low enough for them to watch the birds and squirrels in the grass.

We had many flowers in the middle with pavement walking around the area and looping back to the entrance, maybe a ten-minute walk. My late father created it and then planted the red roses when I was really young. The older patients enjoy seeing them and they bloom nicely in the warm weather.

"Beatrice, did you change Lynn's pillowcases yet?"
I turned around to see Miranda standing there with some plastic cups. I shook my head.
"I'm going right now," I responded as I paused near our staircase. Miranda gave me a thoughtful look before she headed into the kitchen door. I yawned as I made my way upstairs, tired from getting up so early.
Me and mom lived in the building in the downstairs area. It's quite nice, but still having to get up early made me groggy.
I never got used to it.

I open the linen closet and grabbed out two fresh pillowcases and started my way to Lynn's room, humming softly. Her room was decorated in bright yellow items. Pictures, bedding, her curtains, and even a rug near the bathroom.
She would always say how yellow makes her feel happier. I started changing her pillow cases and throwing the old ones in a laundry shoot that goes down to the basement washing area. Each room had one and each had their own basket underneath.
I finished my task, gently wiping her pillows and then setting them neatly against the headrest. I walked over and turned the lights off, shutting the door.

I headed to my newest patient's room. I took a deep breath and then knocked twice before opening it. Curly laid there on his bed, propped up, but his head slightly to the side. Judging from his breathing, I knew he was fast asleep.
I turned on the light and then opened the curtains. His blindfolds would prevent light from coming in anyway.
"Good morning," I whispered, grabbing a bottle of his morning medicine from  his dresser that I left previously. He stirred slightly. I watched him stifle a yawn, surely to prevent any pain on his healing lips.
"Curly?" I asked, sitting on the side of his bed. He stirred again and raised his head to 'look' at me. I heard a small groan. I empty one pill in the palm of my hand and begin to open the capsule to put in the nearby water bottle that I left there last night.

"Did you sleep okay?" I asked, opening the bottle and then dumping the powdered contents in the liquid. I sloshed it around a moment to stir it in.
He gave a slow and sleepy nod. "Good. We're going to take this morning pill."
I wait for him to straighten up more and then open his lips. I smiled and placed a silicone straw in the bottle, lifting it to his lips, and letting him sip it down.

"Here you can-... er..." my cheeks flushed as I realized he can't hold it himself.
He stopped drinking and I swear I heard him stifle some noise. Either a laugh or noise of annoyance. "Just a little left," I quickly added, thankful he couldn't see my reddened face.
He finishes the drink and I place it down.
"So, today I'll place you out in the garden and then you can soak up some sun, under the shade, while me and my coworker do some laundry."

Curly doesn't nod. I crinkled my nose and waited, unsure if he's okay with the plan or not. "And don't worry, you don't have to talk with anyone. My mom... Mrs. Snowshoe will be out there tending to the plants and be on watch if you need anything," I assured him.
He still looked uneasy. Although I couldn't see his eyes, I could feel his uncomfortable vibes. I nibbled my bottom lip. "Do you want to go outside?" I asked.

Curly nodded.
I looked down at the ground and thought a moment. "Do you want my mom to be monitoring you?" I asked. He didn't answer. I opened my mouth with a silent 'ah'. He didn't want another out there being his caretaker. "She's very nice, and you're just there to listen to the birds and feel some sun. Someone has to watch you so you don't overheat and so the sun doesn't do any damage to your sensitive skin," I explained.
He nodded slowly. He wasn't happy with this, but he needed to get out for depression and general health.
"Good, thank you."

I stood up and wheeled his wheelchair over, laying a soft folded blanket on the seat and then placing a plush back support so he could comfortable sit up, in the chair.
I grabbed a mini fan nearby that could wrap around the arm of the chair with these wiggly legs, and wrapped it up so it would point on him. I placed a bigger rubber red button on the regular button, so he could click it himself if needed. We usually use the buttons for our blind or visually impaired patients, but he can benefit from it as well.

I walked over to the bed and uncovered him. "Would you like to change?" I asked, folding the blankets back to the edge of the bed.
He shook his head. I didn't force him or convince him; sometimes they need to move at their own pace.
I put my hands under his arms where they were extra padded from the gauze. "Ready?" I asked, him grunting in response.
I lifted, feeling him also lift himself the best he could, and made a smooth switch from the bed to the chair. I silently said 'ow' and rubbed my shoulder. He was an amputee and a lot of his body weight went down, but he still was built with broader shoulders so it was a slight struggle. But years of lifting patients helped build my muscle strength.

I took his left nubbed arm and gently guided it to the button. "This is a fan. It doesn't take much to click it, and it'll blow air on you. You're gonna be outside for 25 minutes and then my mom's going to bring you back up," I explained, letting go of his residual limb. Curly nodded in response but grunted quietly again, obviously not happy about it, but not enough to put up a big fight. I smiled and then wheeled him out to the hallway and in the elevator. I tapped my foot as I waited for it to take us to the main floor.

When we reached it, I hummed as I wheeled him outside and then by the garden and parked him near my mom. "Mom, I'm going to go help Tina," I explained, putting the breaks on Curly's chair. I saw him raise his head to the sky, not moving or grunting but silently enjoying the breeze.

"Okay, Beatrice, just try and get them finished the best you can. We're kind of behind," she leaned up and wiped her forehead, looking at Curly and nodded in agreement about his care, "I'll take him for a small stroll if he wants as well." I yawned and gave a wave of my hand as a response, turning and going inside.

Laundry was my least favorite chore but even while I worked and Tina yapped in my ear, I still silently hoped Curly wasn't bored and was enjoying his outside time.