"So, you are Mr. Flemming," said the reporter excitedly.
A smooth voice spoke from the door, "You are the fifth reporter I've had to order trespassed from
this hospital tonight." The doctor stepped into the room. "I need you to leave with these men, right
now."
The reporter looked at Aidan and then back at the doctor. "Come on, Mr. Flemming, just a few
questions, please?"
"Even if he was so inclined," said the doctor, "it's not visiting hours, and you are clearly not family.
Out!" The doctor gestured to where two security guards stood in the hall.
The reporter grumbled and gave the doctor a fierce look as he stepped into the hall and was
escorted away.
The nurse sighed. "I'm sorry about that, Mr. Flemming. Do try to get some sleep."
The doctor stepped up and looked at him, then wrote a note on the chart sitting on a clip board at
the foot of the bed. "I'm authorizing an increase in your morphine dosage," said the doctor. "It's
important that you sleep for you to recover. We'll look at the dosage again tomorrow. Get some sleep."
"What if they come back?"
"Oh, don't worry, these incidents are getting reported to the police."
"Didn't stop them this time," said Aidan.
"We're trying, sweetie," said the nurse, "it's just that there's three of you they want in to see, and
while we're blocking one room, they sneak someone into another."
"Great," groaned Aidan, as the nurse took the chart from the doctor, nodded, and adjusted the
morphine dose. Aidan felt his arm grow warm.
"Just sleep, Mr. Flemming," said the nurse, "while we're still able to medicate you enough for you
to get to sleep."
Aidan tried not to think about how ominous that sounded as he laid his head back and let the
warmth in his arm overcome his body. Exhausted, he slept.
When Aidan woke, it was to the feel of fingers on his hand. Becca, staring at him, her long, brown
hair wavy around her face. "God, Aidan," she was muttering. "I'm jonesing for a butt so bad right now-
-"
"Smokin' is bad for you," Aidan interrupted.
"Sure, you say that now," said Becca. "Feeling better?"
He hurt horribly. His fingers sought the button that would send warmth again through his veins. He
pressed it and allowed himself a soft gasp as that sudden, hot feeling overwhelmed his arm for just a
moment.
"Obviously not," said Becca softly. "The press is still asking questions."
"They should fucking let me alone, Bec. I'm in the hospital."
"Calm down. You'll start yourself coughing or get upset enough to move around. And the last few
times you've done that haven't been pleasant."
Aidan leaned his head back. "Anything changed other than that?"
"It'll take almost six weeks, probably, for your lungs to heal. You'll be in the hospital for at least
two weeks."
"Fuck, I have school, Bec."
She nodded, "I know. The dean has gotten you liberal extensions and basically a license to take
incompletes and finish work over the summer if necessary," she said.
"Great. How am I supposed to get my class work?"
"Muscle boy offered to come and keep you up to date with what's going on in your poetry class.
That Tim kid who was on TV disavowing all knowledge of you and Sammy being anything more than
roommates, I'm thinking he knows, right?"
"Yeah."
"Yeah, well he's bringing your infamous Professor Melby's assignments. And I can help you with
those while you're in the hospital. You speak, I'll type."
"What about--"
"Bugs for skaters?" asked Becca. "Your friend down the hall has about twenty friends in that class,
and he's persuaded them to bring you your course work."
"You've been busy," said Aidan softly.
"Taking care of you is part of the job description, kid," said Becca.
"You do know you're only like three days older than me, right?"
"Been calling you kid since elementary school. You can't think I'm stopping now?" asked Becca
with a chuckle.
"Has Sammy stopped by?"
"Nurses are keeping him in his room, mostly. He had some rather severe smoke inhalation, and he's
an athlete that uses his lungs. They're trying to make sure he can continue to be," said Becca.
"So he hasn't?"
"Aidan, his parents are here." Becca sighed. "They don't know, do they?"
Aidan groaned. "No. I don't think so."
"Will you lose him if you push?" asked Becca.
Aidan covered his face with his hands.
"Maybe. It's..." I ain't never gonna let you go. "I don't know. He almost lost me to Steven because
he wouldn't say anything. I think he understood that. I'm not entirely sure he understands why I chose
him."
"But he knows how you feel?" asked Becca.
"Yeah," said Aidan. "He knows."
"Have you had sex?"
"Becca!"
"Well?" asked Becca.
"Not everything," said Aidan softly.
"But you want to?" asked Becca.
"Oh, yeah, I want to. And I think he does, too."
Becca sighed. "But does he want to enough?"
"I want him to. I want him to want me so much that he--"
Aidan's quiet thoughts were interrupted by the click of the door and the doctor walking in. He
glanced at Becca and then at Aidan. "Is this all right?" he asked.
"Yeah, she's my emergency contact," said Aidan. "It's fine."
"All right. You had what's called a tension pneumothorax. In layman's terms, a collapsed lung, but
a rather severe one. It was a close call, Mr. Flemming. Your attacker got lucky, hitting you exactly
where he did, with the rib breaking in just that way. It's a rather long recovery, I'm afraid." The doctor
shook his head a little sadly. "So ,the good news is that the lung looks good. The pressure levels are
pretty close to normal, which is a good sign that the lung has stabilized and won't try to collapse again
spontaneously as it did yesterday. We'll need to watch you for a few days yet."
The doctor pulled up a chair and sat down. "That's the good news because it looks like it will
stabilize. You don't have any of the other common risk factors for the condition, so once the lung has
healed, while you'll have some residual issues, shortness of breath and the like, they'll get steadily
better over time. Most of them are really the effect of the ribs anyway."
"That's the good news?" asked Aidan.
"Well, in the sense that you'll be able to return to normal life, yes," said the doctor. "There's an
adjustment period, during which you won't be able to lift or carry any significant weight. And I'm
afraid you'll never go scuba diving ever. You also shouldn't go climbing mountains or flying for
probably six to eight weeks. But after that time, yes, you can even return to the ill-advised boxing that
you told me you do."
"Boxing is good exercise," said Aidan softly. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]