Defrost

I hold my cell phone up to the monitor and watch it flicker—white lines dance across the green-black screen as my phone receives its internet transmission.  Heh, some fun. I’m bored and unstimulated, and it’s a dangerous combination for someone who doesn’t want to be where she is.

I hide the cell phone under the covers, play with the tape on my wrist, and admire the bulging blue veins on the top of my hand.  I’m too groggy to comprehend any meaningful reading material, so I’m left to rummage through my mind for entertainment.  I don’t feel like TV.

The nurse comes in my curtained world to check on the dressings.  I have no sensation as she removes the surgical packing through the easy access hospital gown.  She chipperly informs me the doctor wants to take a peek, as if he hasn’t seen enough.

I’m beyond mortified at this point, but the meds make me not care too much.

“Are you comfortable, because I have scripts for more meds, so just say the word.”  I ask for a cup of water, but she brings me a few ice chips to wet my lips  “Just the fluids in the bag for now, honey.  Your stomach’s still settling.”

The doctor opens the curtain briskly, and I give him a look of wary respect bordering on contempt.  He cranks the bed and snaps his gloves.  “I have some pictures to show you when I’m done here.”

“It’s looking raw, but looking good.  Only a few stitches needed; the laser cauterized the rest. You’ll have some defrosting, but that’s natural and nothing to worry about.”

I brake into my best Wicked Witch imitation, “I’m melting.  I’m melting.”  He smiles and pats the side of my thigh.  “I think a Chubb will do it for now. We can keep the packing out.”

As promised, he hands me the color computer pictures and points to ugly white areas on red-pink organs.  “Eventually your bladder will be covered in adhesions, so we’re going to have to talk about how best to stop the progression, but not today. Today is for healing.”