For example, Greg started to get impatient during my bowel
program. Jane explained to him that you
have to wait for results and intermittently stimulate, but I could tell he was
getting antsy. “I’m only supposed to be
there for about two hours in the morning,” he said. “This is pretty time-consuming.”
“Usually we get results in under fifteen minutes,” Jane
said.
“My last patient was this 90 year old guy with Alzheimer’s,”
Greg said. “We gave him a ton of
laxatives and he just used a diaper.
That was a lot easier.”
“I don’t see how that’s easier,” Jane said.
Greg shrugged. “Well,
either way, you’re cleaning up crap, right?
But this way is faster.” He put
his hand on my shoulder, “You don’t mind, right Nick? We can do things my way when we’re home.”
“I do mind, actually,” I spoke up.
I couldn’t see Greg’s face because I was turned away from
him, rolled onto my side, but he seemed surprised. “Really?
What’s the difference?”
“Nick is 26 years old and he shouldn’t need to use a
diaper,” Jane snapped, before I could answer.
"I think you should consider it, Nick,"
he said. "It's not like anyone will know, and it'll make things so
much easier in the morning."
"Sitting in shit is a risk for skin
breakdown," Jane shot back at him.
I was extremely grateful that Jane was sticking up
for me. I guess she'd worked with a lot of quads, so she seemed to know
what I was thinking a lot.
"Well, we'll see," Greg said, and I
seriously wanted to punch the guy.
After finishing my bowel program, Jane let Greg
take the lead to do my transfer. Instead of using a lift, we used just a
sliding board like I did with Cam, because Greg was much stronger than Jane.
Jane was giving him instructions, and I felt very scared that I might
fall, but I didn't. I actually breathed a sigh of relief when I was
safely seated in my wheelchair.
"You're light as a feather," Greg said to
me as he secured my straps, which was probably true. I had lost at least
thirty pounds since my injury and I was on the thin side to begin with.
"I think you should do a few more transfers
with us," Jane said to Greg. "Just till you feel 100%
comfortable."
"I feel comfortable already," Greg said.
"Well, I don't," Jane said. "I
think you need to practice a little more."
Greg nodded. "It's so great how you're
so dedicated to your patients, Jane."
"A safe discharge is very important to
me," Jane said.
"I've got a lot of questions about Nick,"
Greg said. "Do you think maybe we could grab a drink tonight and
talk about him a little more?"
My jaw dropped open. I couldn't believe this
asshole was using me to try to hit on Jane. What kind of person does something
like that? I could see Greg checking out Jane's body under her scrubs and
I really wanted to punch him.
"I'm busy tonight," Jane said, folding
her arms across her chest. "Any questions you have about Nick, I'd
be happy to answer here, with him present."
Greg grinned. "Well, that's no
fun." And then he reached out and tugged on the drawstring of Jane's
scrubs.
At that moment, it killed me that I couldn't move.
The old Nick would have had this guy pinned against a wall. Well,
maybe that's not true. The old Nick probably wouldn't have given a shit
if Greg was hitting on some therapist, but that Nick was long gone. The
new Nick cared. I cared a lot. "You're fired," I said.
Greg glanced at me and laughed. "Yeah,
right."
"No, I mean it," I said.
"You're fucking fired. Get out of here right now."
Greg narrowed his eyes. "You can't fire
me. Your parents hired me, so they're the only ones who can fire me.
And they like me a lot."
"They might not like you so much when I tell
them how you didn't show up yesterday, and then you almost dropped their son
while trying to transfer him to his wheelchair," Jane said.
"I didn't..." Greg started to say.
"Don't bother arguing," Jane said.
"Just do as Nick said and leave. Now."
Greg's eyes darkened. He looked from Jane to
me, getting more pissed off by the second. "Oh, I get it," he
said. "You two are fucking, right? You've got some weird
cripple fetish or something, huh Jane?"
Much as I hated to admit it, Greg's words made me
blush. Maybe it hit just a little too close to home. But Jane
didn't even flinch. "You're out of your mind," she said to him.
"Why don't you stop embarrassing yourself and leave with a little dignity?
Maybe you'll even manage to get another job if nobody hears how
irresponsibly you acted here."
Something about what Jane said or maybe the way she
said it finally got through to Greg. He turned around and left my room,
slamming the door behind him. I felt incredibly relieved that Greg was
out of the picture, although I knew my parents weren't going to be thrilled
about finding another PCA for me. Oh well.
"There are good ones and bad ones," Jane
said to me, adjusting some of the straps that Greg put on incorrectly.
"That was a bad one. The next one will be good."
"What if he's not?"
Jane smiled. "Then you fire his ass too."
Jane reached up to adjust my collar, and the touch
of her fingers on my neck caused me to tingle everywhere I could feel. I
couldn't help but think of her response to Greg's accusation that we were
fucking: You're out of your mind. That's what Jane thought of me.
She liked me as a person, but anything else would be completely insane.
******************
My parents weren’t thrilled that I fired Greg, but
apparently Jane talked to them and smoothed things over. They promised next time they’d let me meet
any candidates before they made the final decision. But Dad, being controlling as usual, said
that they were going to do most of the interviews.
Dr. Greenly set up an afternoon meeting with me and my
parents to talk about future management issues, whatever that meant. Dad didn’t show up, because now that I wasn’t
in a life or death situation anymore, he was far too busy. But Mom came, and I was there, of course. Since it was mid-afternoon, I was in my
wheelchair. These days, I was spending
the majority of my day in the chair, even when I wasn’t in therapies. I hated the wheelchair so much when I first
saw it, but now I hated being in bed. At
least in the wheelchair, I could move around independently.
“Thanks for coming, Mrs. Edwards,” Dr. Greenly said to my
mother when he came into the room. He
was always so formal. Sometimes I wished
I had a doctor who was warmer.
“Oh, not a problem,” Mom said. “I wasn’t clear what this meeting is about,
exactly?”
“I wanted to discuss Nick’s bladder management,” Dr. Greenly
said. “Now that he’s going home soon, we
should do something a little more definitive than the Foley catheter.”
“Oh,” Mom said.
“Well, could we just take it out and help him get on the toilet when he
needs to go?”
“It’s not so simple,” Dr. Greenly explained. “He can’t tell when he needs to go, and even
if he could, his bladder and sphincter are not coordinated, so he’s going to
tend to retain urine.”
I hated that they were talking about me like I wasn’t even
there, especially about something as intimate as this. So I spoke up, “What are my options?”
“I’d recommend a suprapubic catheter,” Dr. Greenly
said. “It’s a catheter that goes through
your lower abdomen, straight into your bladder.
You’ll have it in all the time and it will empty into a bag on your leg,
just like now.”
“You mean there will be a tube coming out of my belly all
the time?” I asked. I had been so happy
when the feeding tube came out. I didn’t
want a new tube.
“I’m going to be straight with you, Nick,” Dr. Greenly
said. He glanced at my mother, then back
at me. “How old are you again?”
“I’m 26,” I said, wondering what that had to do with it.
“You’re a very young man,” he said. “And if you ever plan to be sexually active
again in the future, this is your best option.
Any other option involves getting you to void randomly, and that’s not
what you want if you’re planning to have sex.
You don’t want to have to worry about having an accident when you’re not
wearing a condom catheter.”
I looked over at my mother, who was picking at her skirt and
not really looking at me. I guess she
didn’t want to hear about her quadriplegic son having sex. Not that I was having sex. I wasn’t sure if I ever would again. But I didn’t want to rule it out.
“But what if I recover?” I said. “Will I be stuck with the tube forever?”
“The suprapubic catheter could be removed,” he said. “But the reality is, it’s extremely unlikely
that you’ll ever regain voluntary control over your bladder.”
I guess I knew that was true, but it still hard to
hear. “Okay,” I said. “Let’s just… do the tube one.”
“Excellent,” Dr. Greenly said. “I’ll set it up for you.”
Dr. Greenly left the room, making my decision final. I looked over at my mother, who was still
picking at her clothing. She always got
really embarrassed about the more intimate aspects of my care. I knew we had to get past that, because she
was going to be one of my caregivers when I came home, but I don’t think either
of us were ready for that yet. Maybe
someday.
“I need some fresh air,” I told her. “I’m going to go outside.”
“By yourself?” Mom looked alarmed.
“Yes, I am an
adult, Mom,” I said.
“I’ll go with you,” she said quickly.
I navigated easily through the door of my room and down the
hallway. I remembered how hard it had
been to use the sip and puff controls, but now it had almost become second
nature. When I first met Jane, she told
me that this wheelchair would give me independence and freedom, and I thought
she was full of shit, but now I realized how right she was. It was a beautiful day today and thanks to my
wheelchair, I could now enjoy it independently.
Nick is finally becoming a wise fellow. I am starting to admire him for his good points. I'm now part of his 'cheer squad.' Thanks for a super update.
ReplyDeleteLove this chapter!!
ReplyDeleteGreg...Boo! Hiss! Jane...Yeah! Good onya!
ReplyDeleteLooks like Nick's beginning to grow up. I like the improvement!
Thank you so much for udating this so often and regularly!!
ReplyDeleteI love this story and I can`t wait to read what will happen next in Nick`s life.
Tina