Chance Meeting

Fifteen

Four weeks later, not long after his fifty-eighth birthday, Bobby was headed into Saint Thomas West Hospital for the third Time. The first was obviously due to being rushed to the ER, the second was a two-week post-op checkup his surgeon'd wanted him to come in for. Now, he was going in for a second post-op checkup, and with any Luck, he'd be able to get his stitches taken out today.

        If there was one thing he was looking forward to, it was getting the stitches in his outermost layers of meat removed. Deeper into his abdominal and pelvic cavities, Dr. West'd used dissolvable stitches so they wouldn't have to worry about removing those. After all, the point was for him to Heal, not to have to cut him open again later on to remove stitches he no longer needed. But the ones in the outer layers–namely his flesh–were irritating since they pulled funny, which oft made it feel like he was being pinched just from trying to breathe.

        Not only that, but they made his incision itch more than he thought was normal when the scab first formed on it during that first week. Aerin'd to cut his nails nearly down to the quick so he'd nothing to scratch with, then still tape oven mitts over his hands at Times. Every inanimate object he coulda used to scratch that area and pick the scab off was kept well outta his reach–even guitar picks, since she'd caught him using one for that very purpose one Time.

        "Robert Kuykendall?"

        Looking up from the random magazine he'd grabbed after he'd checked in, he saw a nurse waiting for him and nodded as he laid it back down.

        "How're ya feeling today?" she asked as she led him back to get his vitals.

        "Pretty good, all things considered," Bobby chuckled as he followed. "Definitely a lot better than the first Time I wound up here."

        "Well, that's good to hear," the nurse told him. "We always wanna hear a report like that from our patients when they come in for post-op visits."

        "I'm sure, especially for the more major surgeries," he agreed.

        Settling on the exam table in the room she led him into, Bobby held out his arm to let her wrap the blood pressure cuff around his arm after slipping his overshirt off. He didn't really like coming to a doctor and all the shit he'd to suffer through when he did, but if it meant getting these stitches out sooner, he'd do just about anything.

        It didn't take the nurse long to get his vitals and type them into the digital chart, then leave him to his own devices while she went to get his surgeon. He could only sigh as he laid back on the exam table, fingers laced behind his head to help resist his urge to scratch. Whatever lil bit of a scab and dead skin was still around the edges of the incision was driving him crazy, but he didn't wanna mess anything up right before he saw Dr. West. He also didn't wanna scratch so much that he wound up a bloody mess right before that happened, 'cuz that might stop him from getting his stitches taken out.

        A short while later, there was a knock at the door, and he lifted his head slightly as he called out permission to enter. The bassist sat up when the door opened to Reveal his surgeon, and he'd a bit of a smile on his face as the man entered. He wasn't a doctor by any means, but he'd say he was Healing pretty nicely, so he'd Hope for getting these irritating things out today. If he didn't, he didn't know what he'd do besides accidentally claw his belly open from scratching, which he didn't wanna do.

        "How're ya feeling today, Rob?" the surgeon asked, remembering the nickname he preferred outside his band and anything to do with it.

        "Pretty good, like I told your nurse," Bobby answered. "Well, other than going a lil crazy."