This Is Me

Part 38

The hospital kept him for the rest for the day and unfortunately ushered everyone out for the night. They were sure everything was fine with him but wanted to monitor him for a few hours just to be sure. Stacy thankfully had brought him some clothes to change into. Helping him clean up the make-up and remove all the costume wear. Mark tried to plead with the doctors into allowing him to stay, but they forced him out. Leaving Sean to slip into a pair of baggy sweatpants on his own. He hated the stupid paper gown they wanted him to wear. So, he rebelled. Laying back down on the bed with a deep groan, he propped his long legs up and left himself shirtless. Putting on his shirt had proven too painful. The arm splint was frustrating, but the sling was worse. The rough cloth strap dug into his neck and shoulder. It was so uncomfortable. Picking up the remote, he flipped through endless commercials for a good twenty minutes. When finally, the shows started playing, he tried to find something between cop shows, nighttime dramas, and movies he'd seen more times than he cared to know. He wanted to see KBL News. To see what they were saying about him. Unfortunately, the hospital didn't have that channel. Which worried him. 

He didn't think he could be anymore bored. He was just thankful that he had the room to himself, but he hated the feeling of being alone. Tossing the remote uselessly onto the bed, he picked up his phone. Staring at it with a sour look, he set it back down. Using it to text or play games required both hands and his hurt hand was too stiff to mess with it. Slumping down on the bed, he glared at the TV. He could imagine why half the people in the hospital were dying... the dull food and shitty TV channels were draining the life from him at a torturous pace. Rolling from the bed, he paced the room to try and keep his thoughts from mentally torturing him. Sleeping wasn't even an option. The nurses would come in ever hour to check on him and run blood tests. He was starting to feel like a blood bank to vampires. Right as the clock turned eleven pm, a nurse pushed a squeaky cart into his room. When she looked up, she quickly averted her eyes, asking embarrassed. "Mr. Mcloughlin? Did I come at a bad time? Do you need help putting a shirt on?" Sean snorted playfully, teasing out to her. "I thought you people saw naked people all the time?"

The young nurse's eyes turned back to his, answering just as playfully back. "Most of our patients are not as distracting as you are. And when I need my wits to stick you with a sharp object... You can see why I need to focus?" Sean chuckled, dragging his feet over to the bed. The nurse began preparing a syringe, asking him more professionally now. "How are you feeling? Does your arm feel uncomfortable? Feel stiff?" Sean huffed, grumbling out sarcastically. "It's in a splint that itches like hell and it's squeezing my arm... Uncomfortable? Stiff? You'll have to be more specific." The nurse's sharp green eyes flicked over to him with a narrowed look. He knew he was being rude, but he was so tired and bored. The nurse reached out for his hurt hand to look at his fingers, asking him coolly. "Is the cast too tight? Is it cutting off your circulation?" Sean shook his head. He was fine. The nurse began messing with his sore good arm, telling him for the hundredth time. "Ok. Just relax. We'll check your blood work again and make sure that everything is still at healthy levels."

Sean sighed heavily, muttering under his breath. "Keep this up and I won't have any for you to test." The nurse ignored his comment and stuck him with the needle. Wincing in pain, he groaned softly. Once she finished, she smirked at him, telling him rather smugly. "That didn't hurt that much now did it." Sean was afraid to look at her. He was too tired to play nice. She gave him a plastic cup of pills and a cup of water, watching him closely as he took them. She even asked him to open his mouth to prove it, checking his mouth over with a gloved hand. Then she patted his shoulder and left the room. Sean knew hospitals were supposed to help you... but he felt more and more like a prisoner. Once she had left the room, he got up and ventured into the bathroom. Leaning over the sink, he stuck his fingers down his throat. He didn't know what these fucking things they kept giving him were supposed to do, but he didn't want them in his body. Vomiting them up into the sink, he washed them down the drain and cleaned up.