Day 52, morning; Infirmary; Attn: Carson, others [F]
There had been some disturbance in the night that had pulled Conn out of sleep-- rushing, someone shouting in a language not English, murmured voices-- but he couldn't stay awake between the drugs and his body's need to heal
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"Well, now that that ordeal's over, I really need to visit the facilities," he told her.
The trek to the bathroom seemed to take forever for such a short distance and he felt weak as a kitten by the time he got there, even leaning on the nurse.
"Do you need my help?" she asked him.
"I'm afraid so," he admitted. "Just help me get my skivvies down and sat down and I'll be all right."
Once that humiliation was done for the morning, he returned to his bed and pushed the button to prop the bed up. It helped him to breathe easier.
The nurse moved off and he closed his eyes, offering a quick prayer of thanks for another day and supplication for strength. He felt more than heard the nurse walk back up to him.
"Anything I can pray for you about, darlin'?" he asked as he looked up and then gave an embarrassed chuckle. "Well, slap my head and call me silly! Sorry, Doctor Weir, I thought you was the nurse. Not that I'm opposed to offerin' up a word to the Good Lord for you, ma'am." He peered at her. "By the looks of it, you could use some prayin' up. You look like you been rode hard and put away wet."
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