Inside Out Part Nine
Title: Inside Out Part Nine
Author: Twilight
Summary: Blair has been putting something off for a long time and Jim's determined to find out why, but at what cost...
Feedback: Always welcome
Notes: This story has been suggested by my dear friend Romanse, yeah, she made me do it.
*~*~*
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Time seemed to fade for awhile, but when Blair opened his eyes he was still sitting awkwardly on the bed, Jim’s hand running soothingly up and down his arm.
His face heated as he tried to straighten up, allowing the helping hands on his arms and back.
When he finally met Jim’s eyes he opened his mouth to say thank you, I’m sorry, but no words came out. The murderous look of rage on Jim’s face stopped him cold.
Is Jim mad at me?
Tears gathered in his eyes again and he swiped at them, not wanting Jim to see and then giggling at his own thoughts.
Of course Jim will see!
“Sorry.” He finally murmured, shaking his head.
God, what is wrong with me?He felt like he was cracking up, pieces and hunks of his sanity breaking off and falling away with each breath he took.
When he met Jim’s eyes the second time something about his continence had changed, Jim’s face softened and his jaw loosened and he looked at Blair with such…guilt.
But why is Jim feeling guilty?
“You don’t need to be sorry, Chief. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Jim sank into the chair beside his bed, running a shaky hand up and over his head. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up earlier. I had a few things to take care of and I was talking to Dr. Ramanatha, trying to get some answers.”
Blair caught himself tensing even at the mention of the doctor’s name, but now that he felt a little more with it, he relaxed just as quickly and found that Jim had continued talking and he had missed a chunk of what he was saying. “…I know Missy told you its rare, but Dr. Ramanatha also said it could just have been a hallucination brought on by the meds…”
Hallucination?
Have I made it all up in my head?
Well of course you did, Einstein.
He knew he wasn’t really seeing any of it, but it felt so real and the pain…that sure as hell was real.
“…investigation…might not ever really know…”
And he didn’t want to think too hard as to why he was seeing people he had lost in his life, although he took enough Psych classes to know it probably had to do with his own guilt issues.
He’d never been able to spend too much time with his grandparents, Naomi had made sure that they didn’t put down roots in any one place for too long and well, whether he wanted to admit it or not, he had some part in the deaths of both his friends.”
“…in a few hours, so how about we get you up?”
And why the fire people, why Lash? He had escaped death both times, had come close but…
“Um…Chief?”
He startled at Jim’s voice so close to his ear and glanced up in time to see a strange look of relief cross his friends face. “What?”
“Dr. Ramanatha will be back a little later, so let’s get you up and around. If you can keep down your lunch and go to the bathroom, you can go home this evening.”
Nothing sounded so good to him before. He let Jim help him sit up, sucking in a quick breath as pain erupted in his groin.
“Take it slow. You’re gonna be really sore for a few days yet.”
He slide to his feet, bending a little at the waist to ease the pressure on his incisions, and then stood clinging to Jim’s supporting arm for a few minutes as the world wavered a little. A warm flush worked its way up his chest to his face and he felt incredibly tired even though he hadn’t even taken a step.
“Let’s just take it easy.” Jim told him, wrapping another hospital gown around his back, “just up to the nurse’s station and back.”
He shuffled along; passing his neighboring rooms at a snail’s pace, occasionally glancing in at the misery of the other people on the ward. By the time he got back to his room he was spent and sweaty and relieved to just get back into the bed and rest for the time being.
Jim turned on the TV and they watched the afternoon news while they waited for another visit from the doctor and his lunch.
As he drifted someone entered the room and addressed Jim. He cracked open his eyes to see a woman in blue, sporting a hairnet over graying hair, bringing in a tray and putting it on the rolling table, scooting it over his bed so he could reach.
Jim took off the lid before the food was completely in place, “chicken. Looks great.”
Blair wasn’t as enthusiastic, still felt full from the half waffle he had eaten a few hours before, but it looked a lot more appetizing then the breakfast he was served, so he gamely poked the meat with his fork, managing some mashed potatoes and green beans before forking some dry and tasteless chicken into his mouth.
His stomach was doing weird things, growling like he was hungry, but nauseous all at the same time. So he pushed the plate away, sipping on the apple juice that came with his meal.
A little later, during the end of the news cast, a nurse showed up with an armful of stuff she sat down next to his legs on top of the sheets.
“How are you feeling Mr. Sandburg? Did you eat any of your lunch?”
Before he could even answer she asked a few more questions, wanting to know if he had been up or able to use the bathroom.
And that was the problem with hospitals in general.
The staff functioned within a set parameter, a routine, but not everything could be a part of it. There were variables that could happen outside of the norm. That was how mistakes happened.
“Um, yeah…I walked down the hall and back, but I haven’t needed to use the restroom yet.”
She was nodding her head, opening packages and laying things out on the bed and he wondered if she was listening to him or if she even really cared. She seemed to be operating on auto pilot.
“I’m gonna show you how to care for your wound. Do you want your friend to wait outside?”
He shook his head, watching as she rolled out some gauze and pieces of tape, placing them on the edge of the tray table. She used a piece to cover the IV port. “We got word you’ll be leaving sometime today, so we’re taking this out.” She pulled the thin tube from his arm and put some pressure on it to stench the flow of blood, before taping the gauze down with a piece of white tape.
She pushed the tray table back a little and pulled his blanket down near his hip, bunching it up to give him a little privacy since Jim was sitting on the other side of the bed.
Blair glanced toward him and could tell by the set of Jim’s jaw that he was having no problem seeing his bandages even with the small barrier.
“This looks good.” She told him as she worked the tape loose, uncovered his incisions, and dropping the soiled gauze in the trash bin.
For the first time he looked down at himself and the puckered skin pulled by black thread. He felt a little sick to note the two tubes that protruded from him as well, one near his groin and one up a little higher on his belly. The other ends were attached to a plastic disk that folded like an accordion, which expanded when it filled with fluid and blood from the wound. “You need to make sure you change the gauze at least once a day, disinfect around the drainage tubes and empty the collection bag into the measuring cup we give you. Record the findings and then you can flush the waste down the toilet.”
She unpinned the collection bag from the inside of his gown, showing how to open the bag and pour the fluid into a tiny measuring cup. “You should be able to get at least two cups full each time you do this. The amount will lessen as you heal.”
“When can…when can the tubes come out?”
She used cotton swabbed q-tips soaked in alcohol to wipe around each tube where it met his skin, careful of the two or three black treads holding it into place. “Usually in about three or four weeks and the stitches will come out in about six to eight.” Covering each protruding tube with clean gauze she taped them into place and pulled down his gown, moving to the bathroom to dump the measuring cup.
Jim spoke up beside him. “When can we go home?”
The woman tossed her gloves and washed her hands. “I’m printing up his release papers now. He just needs to make sure his bowels are moving. Let me know as soon as he goes to the bathroom.” Without a backward glance she left the room and Blair realized he didn’t even know her name.
“I’m gonna try,” he nodded toward the bathroom across from his bed because he was getting that itchy feeling again, that need to get the hell outta here. “Maybe you can…”
Jim jumped up, opening the drawers in the table by Blair’s bed. “I’ll start packing up; take some of this stuff down to the truck.”
Blair nodded, slipping for the bed on his own, padding barefoot carefully across the cool tile floor. Before he ducked inside, Jim had picked up the flowers the guys from the station had sent and the fruit basket from the U.
“I’ll be right back.” Jim told him before slipping out the door.
Blair nodded, pulling the bathroom door almost all the way closed. He carefully sank onto the seat, noting what looked like a collection pot nestled inside and relieved the pressure of is bladder.
Someone came into his room, but left almost as quickly. So he assumed it was Jim.
Relaxing as best he could, he tried to move his bowels. He could hear Jim moving around outside again, so he sat still until he could hear the footsteps move away and then finally he was able to go.
Walking just as carefully back to the bed he saw that Jim had left his duffle with clothes and some toiletries sitting on top. It hurt when he bent to pull on his boxers and sweat pants, but he ignored the pulls and twinges.
He had just put on a layer of his organic deodorant and was pulling a t shirt over his head when Missy came into the room, a bright smile on her face.
She held some papers and a strange looking belt in her hand. “You ready to get out of here?” she asked stepping into the bathroom and for a brief second Blair was embarrassed.
Feeling his face heat again, he said, “Yeah…I’m looking forward to my own bed.” And he was too. His back and hips were a little achy and he knew he would sleep better in his own home, be able to heal someplace he felt safe and comfortable.
He heard the toilet flushing and she returned, picking up the papers from near the sink where she sat them and placed them on the tray table. “I’ve got your discharge papers and this.” She held up the weird belt. “You need to wear it all the time, at least until you heal up some. Let me show you.”
So he sat on the edge of the bed with his feet on the floor, grateful that it was Missy that had shown up and not Dr. Ramanatha. He knew it was irrational, but he didn’t care.
“Lift your arms for me.” He did as she asked and watched as she reached around him and wrapped the thick material around his middle. It was snug and had a Velcro closure in the front, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, in fact his stomach felt a little better now that there was the slight pressure over his incisions.
“This will give you some support. You should wear briefs and loose fitting pants for awhile.” As she talked she pulled up the collapsed collection bag and pinned it to the front of the belt. “You need to clean around the tubes at least twice a day and put on clean gauze. Empty the bag twice a day too.” She pulled down his shirt to cover up the belt, her fingers lingering on the hem for a few minutes before she turned to the discharge papers. “You have lifting restrictions for the next month or so, nothing heavier then a pillow.” She smiled. “Rest as much as you can, but be sure to get up everyday and walk around your apartment. In a few days when you feel up to it, you can take some walks outside with someone with you, just don’t overdo it. You can shower as long as you cover the incision with something like cling wrap to keep it as dry as possible and then use q-tips and alcohol to clean around the tubing and change the gauze as soon as you’re done.” She signed her name to the form under another signature and made little check marks down the list as she told him the rest of his restrictions. “No driving for the first two weeks and no sex for a least a month. You’ll need a follow up appointment for two weeks from now.”
She slid the papers closer to him, handing him a pen.
Jim came back into the room as he was signing. “Looks like you’re about ready,” Jim said, picking up the duffle that sat on the bed and handed Blair a travel pillow.
“I’ll get a wheelchair if you want to go pull up the truck.” Missy told him.
Jim looked toward Blair and then nodded. “I’ll be waiting out front, Chief.”
“Okay,” Blair tried to lever himself out of the bed.
“No, wait there.” Missy slipped out the door and returned a few seconds later with a wheelchair. “I have your ride right here.”
He let her help him up and over, watching as she flipped down the footrests and put his feet up on them. She released the brakes and pushed him forward and out into the bright hall.
People moved back and forth, nurses and visitors, a few patients pushing IV poles. Before they got to the elevator Dr. Ramanatha was coming out of a neighboring room. She started to turn from him, but he called out her name.
“I just wanted…well I’m sorry about before.” He told her. When he had woken to her voice, still in that twilight state, it took him right back to being trapped and feeling helpless, but now that he was fully awake and coherent, he wanted her to know he wasn’t afraid of her.
“No need to apologize Mr. Sandburg.” She met Missy’s eyes before looking down to him again. “I’m just sorry that you had to go through something like that. And I want you to know that we are investigating and someone from our legal department will be in touch. I fully understand if you want follow up care from another doctor.”
He hadn’t thought about legal ramifications before now, but he felt comfortable with her as his doctor, so he shook his head. “I’m fine with seeing you.”
“Glad to hear it. I’ll see you in a few weeks then.”
The elevator arrived, so Missy pushed him forward and pressed the lobby level button. “How are you feeling now, Blair?” She asked as they descended.
“Mush better.” The doors parted and people waited as she got him turned around and heading toward the exit. He could see Jim’s old Ford at the curb and his friend coming around the truck to open the passenger door.
“If you want, you can come to the clinic for your follow up.” Missy set the breaks and came around the front of him, bending to kiss him on the cheek. “Call me if you need anything or you know…just want to talk.”
“Okay, I will.” Jim moved closer and the automatic doors parts. He breathed in deep, enjoying the sunlight on his face.
They both took him under an arm and helping him stand, moving at his pace to the open door.
He wasn’t thrilled with the idea of trying to get himself up into the cab of the truck, but with a little help from Jim he was seated. Missy handed him the pillow that Jim had brought and he tucked it against his body. “I’ll call you.” He told her, and then shut his door.
Jim slid in behind the wheel and Blair watched as the hospital became smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror.
He was on his way home and hopefully he would be able to forget all about the living nightmare he had experienced…he should have known better.
*~*~*
Part Ten
Author: Twilight
Summary: Blair has been putting something off for a long time and Jim's determined to find out why, but at what cost...
Feedback: Always welcome
Notes: This story has been suggested by my dear friend Romanse, yeah, she made me do it.
*~*~*
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Time seemed to fade for awhile, but when Blair opened his eyes he was still sitting awkwardly on the bed, Jim’s hand running soothingly up and down his arm.
His face heated as he tried to straighten up, allowing the helping hands on his arms and back.
When he finally met Jim’s eyes he opened his mouth to say thank you, I’m sorry, but no words came out. The murderous look of rage on Jim’s face stopped him cold.
Is Jim mad at me?
Tears gathered in his eyes again and he swiped at them, not wanting Jim to see and then giggling at his own thoughts.
Of course Jim will see!
“Sorry.” He finally murmured, shaking his head.
God, what is wrong with me?He felt like he was cracking up, pieces and hunks of his sanity breaking off and falling away with each breath he took.
When he met Jim’s eyes the second time something about his continence had changed, Jim’s face softened and his jaw loosened and he looked at Blair with such…guilt.
But why is Jim feeling guilty?
“You don’t need to be sorry, Chief. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Jim sank into the chair beside his bed, running a shaky hand up and over his head. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up earlier. I had a few things to take care of and I was talking to Dr. Ramanatha, trying to get some answers.”
Blair caught himself tensing even at the mention of the doctor’s name, but now that he felt a little more with it, he relaxed just as quickly and found that Jim had continued talking and he had missed a chunk of what he was saying. “…I know Missy told you its rare, but Dr. Ramanatha also said it could just have been a hallucination brought on by the meds…”
Hallucination?
Have I made it all up in my head?
Well of course you did, Einstein.
He knew he wasn’t really seeing any of it, but it felt so real and the pain…that sure as hell was real.
“…investigation…might not ever really know…”
And he didn’t want to think too hard as to why he was seeing people he had lost in his life, although he took enough Psych classes to know it probably had to do with his own guilt issues.
He’d never been able to spend too much time with his grandparents, Naomi had made sure that they didn’t put down roots in any one place for too long and well, whether he wanted to admit it or not, he had some part in the deaths of both his friends.”
“…in a few hours, so how about we get you up?”
And why the fire people, why Lash? He had escaped death both times, had come close but…
“Um…Chief?”
He startled at Jim’s voice so close to his ear and glanced up in time to see a strange look of relief cross his friends face. “What?”
“Dr. Ramanatha will be back a little later, so let’s get you up and around. If you can keep down your lunch and go to the bathroom, you can go home this evening.”
Nothing sounded so good to him before. He let Jim help him sit up, sucking in a quick breath as pain erupted in his groin.
“Take it slow. You’re gonna be really sore for a few days yet.”
He slide to his feet, bending a little at the waist to ease the pressure on his incisions, and then stood clinging to Jim’s supporting arm for a few minutes as the world wavered a little. A warm flush worked its way up his chest to his face and he felt incredibly tired even though he hadn’t even taken a step.
“Let’s just take it easy.” Jim told him, wrapping another hospital gown around his back, “just up to the nurse’s station and back.”
He shuffled along; passing his neighboring rooms at a snail’s pace, occasionally glancing in at the misery of the other people on the ward. By the time he got back to his room he was spent and sweaty and relieved to just get back into the bed and rest for the time being.
Jim turned on the TV and they watched the afternoon news while they waited for another visit from the doctor and his lunch.
As he drifted someone entered the room and addressed Jim. He cracked open his eyes to see a woman in blue, sporting a hairnet over graying hair, bringing in a tray and putting it on the rolling table, scooting it over his bed so he could reach.
Jim took off the lid before the food was completely in place, “chicken. Looks great.”
Blair wasn’t as enthusiastic, still felt full from the half waffle he had eaten a few hours before, but it looked a lot more appetizing then the breakfast he was served, so he gamely poked the meat with his fork, managing some mashed potatoes and green beans before forking some dry and tasteless chicken into his mouth.
His stomach was doing weird things, growling like he was hungry, but nauseous all at the same time. So he pushed the plate away, sipping on the apple juice that came with his meal.
A little later, during the end of the news cast, a nurse showed up with an armful of stuff she sat down next to his legs on top of the sheets.
“How are you feeling Mr. Sandburg? Did you eat any of your lunch?”
Before he could even answer she asked a few more questions, wanting to know if he had been up or able to use the bathroom.
And that was the problem with hospitals in general.
The staff functioned within a set parameter, a routine, but not everything could be a part of it. There were variables that could happen outside of the norm. That was how mistakes happened.
“Um, yeah…I walked down the hall and back, but I haven’t needed to use the restroom yet.”
She was nodding her head, opening packages and laying things out on the bed and he wondered if she was listening to him or if she even really cared. She seemed to be operating on auto pilot.
“I’m gonna show you how to care for your wound. Do you want your friend to wait outside?”
He shook his head, watching as she rolled out some gauze and pieces of tape, placing them on the edge of the tray table. She used a piece to cover the IV port. “We got word you’ll be leaving sometime today, so we’re taking this out.” She pulled the thin tube from his arm and put some pressure on it to stench the flow of blood, before taping the gauze down with a piece of white tape.
She pushed the tray table back a little and pulled his blanket down near his hip, bunching it up to give him a little privacy since Jim was sitting on the other side of the bed.
Blair glanced toward him and could tell by the set of Jim’s jaw that he was having no problem seeing his bandages even with the small barrier.
“This looks good.” She told him as she worked the tape loose, uncovered his incisions, and dropping the soiled gauze in the trash bin.
For the first time he looked down at himself and the puckered skin pulled by black thread. He felt a little sick to note the two tubes that protruded from him as well, one near his groin and one up a little higher on his belly. The other ends were attached to a plastic disk that folded like an accordion, which expanded when it filled with fluid and blood from the wound. “You need to make sure you change the gauze at least once a day, disinfect around the drainage tubes and empty the collection bag into the measuring cup we give you. Record the findings and then you can flush the waste down the toilet.”
She unpinned the collection bag from the inside of his gown, showing how to open the bag and pour the fluid into a tiny measuring cup. “You should be able to get at least two cups full each time you do this. The amount will lessen as you heal.”
“When can…when can the tubes come out?”
She used cotton swabbed q-tips soaked in alcohol to wipe around each tube where it met his skin, careful of the two or three black treads holding it into place. “Usually in about three or four weeks and the stitches will come out in about six to eight.” Covering each protruding tube with clean gauze she taped them into place and pulled down his gown, moving to the bathroom to dump the measuring cup.
Jim spoke up beside him. “When can we go home?”
The woman tossed her gloves and washed her hands. “I’m printing up his release papers now. He just needs to make sure his bowels are moving. Let me know as soon as he goes to the bathroom.” Without a backward glance she left the room and Blair realized he didn’t even know her name.
“I’m gonna try,” he nodded toward the bathroom across from his bed because he was getting that itchy feeling again, that need to get the hell outta here. “Maybe you can…”
Jim jumped up, opening the drawers in the table by Blair’s bed. “I’ll start packing up; take some of this stuff down to the truck.”
Blair nodded, slipping for the bed on his own, padding barefoot carefully across the cool tile floor. Before he ducked inside, Jim had picked up the flowers the guys from the station had sent and the fruit basket from the U.
“I’ll be right back.” Jim told him before slipping out the door.
Blair nodded, pulling the bathroom door almost all the way closed. He carefully sank onto the seat, noting what looked like a collection pot nestled inside and relieved the pressure of is bladder.
Someone came into his room, but left almost as quickly. So he assumed it was Jim.
Relaxing as best he could, he tried to move his bowels. He could hear Jim moving around outside again, so he sat still until he could hear the footsteps move away and then finally he was able to go.
Walking just as carefully back to the bed he saw that Jim had left his duffle with clothes and some toiletries sitting on top. It hurt when he bent to pull on his boxers and sweat pants, but he ignored the pulls and twinges.
He had just put on a layer of his organic deodorant and was pulling a t shirt over his head when Missy came into the room, a bright smile on her face.
She held some papers and a strange looking belt in her hand. “You ready to get out of here?” she asked stepping into the bathroom and for a brief second Blair was embarrassed.
Feeling his face heat again, he said, “Yeah…I’m looking forward to my own bed.” And he was too. His back and hips were a little achy and he knew he would sleep better in his own home, be able to heal someplace he felt safe and comfortable.
He heard the toilet flushing and she returned, picking up the papers from near the sink where she sat them and placed them on the tray table. “I’ve got your discharge papers and this.” She held up the weird belt. “You need to wear it all the time, at least until you heal up some. Let me show you.”
So he sat on the edge of the bed with his feet on the floor, grateful that it was Missy that had shown up and not Dr. Ramanatha. He knew it was irrational, but he didn’t care.
“Lift your arms for me.” He did as she asked and watched as she reached around him and wrapped the thick material around his middle. It was snug and had a Velcro closure in the front, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, in fact his stomach felt a little better now that there was the slight pressure over his incisions.
“This will give you some support. You should wear briefs and loose fitting pants for awhile.” As she talked she pulled up the collapsed collection bag and pinned it to the front of the belt. “You need to clean around the tubes at least twice a day and put on clean gauze. Empty the bag twice a day too.” She pulled down his shirt to cover up the belt, her fingers lingering on the hem for a few minutes before she turned to the discharge papers. “You have lifting restrictions for the next month or so, nothing heavier then a pillow.” She smiled. “Rest as much as you can, but be sure to get up everyday and walk around your apartment. In a few days when you feel up to it, you can take some walks outside with someone with you, just don’t overdo it. You can shower as long as you cover the incision with something like cling wrap to keep it as dry as possible and then use q-tips and alcohol to clean around the tubing and change the gauze as soon as you’re done.” She signed her name to the form under another signature and made little check marks down the list as she told him the rest of his restrictions. “No driving for the first two weeks and no sex for a least a month. You’ll need a follow up appointment for two weeks from now.”
She slid the papers closer to him, handing him a pen.
Jim came back into the room as he was signing. “Looks like you’re about ready,” Jim said, picking up the duffle that sat on the bed and handed Blair a travel pillow.
“I’ll get a wheelchair if you want to go pull up the truck.” Missy told him.
Jim looked toward Blair and then nodded. “I’ll be waiting out front, Chief.”
“Okay,” Blair tried to lever himself out of the bed.
“No, wait there.” Missy slipped out the door and returned a few seconds later with a wheelchair. “I have your ride right here.”
He let her help him up and over, watching as she flipped down the footrests and put his feet up on them. She released the brakes and pushed him forward and out into the bright hall.
People moved back and forth, nurses and visitors, a few patients pushing IV poles. Before they got to the elevator Dr. Ramanatha was coming out of a neighboring room. She started to turn from him, but he called out her name.
“I just wanted…well I’m sorry about before.” He told her. When he had woken to her voice, still in that twilight state, it took him right back to being trapped and feeling helpless, but now that he was fully awake and coherent, he wanted her to know he wasn’t afraid of her.
“No need to apologize Mr. Sandburg.” She met Missy’s eyes before looking down to him again. “I’m just sorry that you had to go through something like that. And I want you to know that we are investigating and someone from our legal department will be in touch. I fully understand if you want follow up care from another doctor.”
He hadn’t thought about legal ramifications before now, but he felt comfortable with her as his doctor, so he shook his head. “I’m fine with seeing you.”
“Glad to hear it. I’ll see you in a few weeks then.”
The elevator arrived, so Missy pushed him forward and pressed the lobby level button. “How are you feeling now, Blair?” She asked as they descended.
“Mush better.” The doors parted and people waited as she got him turned around and heading toward the exit. He could see Jim’s old Ford at the curb and his friend coming around the truck to open the passenger door.
“If you want, you can come to the clinic for your follow up.” Missy set the breaks and came around the front of him, bending to kiss him on the cheek. “Call me if you need anything or you know…just want to talk.”
“Okay, I will.” Jim moved closer and the automatic doors parts. He breathed in deep, enjoying the sunlight on his face.
They both took him under an arm and helping him stand, moving at his pace to the open door.
He wasn’t thrilled with the idea of trying to get himself up into the cab of the truck, but with a little help from Jim he was seated. Missy handed him the pillow that Jim had brought and he tucked it against his body. “I’ll call you.” He told her, and then shut his door.
Jim slid in behind the wheel and Blair watched as the hospital became smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror.
He was on his way home and hopefully he would be able to forget all about the living nightmare he had experienced…he should have known better.
*~*~*
Part Ten