Chapter 96: Fix It…

***Albert.***

***Chicago. A week later…***

I force my eyes open. The light’s intensity, hitting me hard.

I flinch, closing my eyes from the light.

My right hand is bandaged. I grimace as an ache shoots from it . 

I look around. I’m in hospital. The smell of sterile air, assailing me. I suddenly need to pee and I struggle out of bed. The door suddenly bursts open and a doctor in white coat enters.

“Ah…Sergeant. You finally awake. You’ve been struggling at it for five days, since your surgery. But no success. You’re quite dogged, I must give you that.” The doctor teases, as he comes to check my eyes and my tongue. 

“I really need to take a leak doc.” My voice comes out croaked.

I try clearing it. 

“Never bother about your voice. A week of un-use and medication. But it would clear out.” He flashes an eye to my groin area, lifting an eye brow. “As for taking a leak, you’ve got a catheter attached to you already.” 

I follow his gaze and I see a bag attached to a gadget.

No way! I need my proper leak time now. 

“Doctor, I need a leak and I advise you get someone to handle this, fast, or you wouldn’t like my next action.”

I’ve never liked catheters and hospitals. Debasing, having me attached to a tube to take a leak, even though I know he says I’ve been out for days. 

I think he gets my drift and immediately goes to press a button. A cute nurse strolls in.

“Get the catheter off Sergeant Bethel.” He steals a furtive glance, before he turns to her again. “He needs to take a leak.” 

I should feel embarrassed he said it like that to this cute nurse, rather, I feel proud she’d be seeing all my manly glory. 

Soon, she has me all free and cleaned up and I successfully take a leak, after what seems like hours. Had to use my left hand.

When I return, am given some antibiotics to stem any infections from the catheter. 

“Why do you guys use them, if they can give infections?” I grumble.

The nurse chuckles, as she hands me the water to take the pills, her cute smile infectious. I smile as well. 

“It’s because at the time you were out, you couldn’t take a leak and your system needed excretion.” The doctor explains.

I’m not paying attention to him, but to the beauty before me as she undresses my wound.

The doctor steps forward and checks my right fingers with his pen. 

“Any sensations on this finger?” He touches my thumb.

I didn’t even feel it until his voice came. I frown, my gaze lowered to the finger. I shake my head. 

“What about these ones?” He asks, his pen on my index and middle finger.

I frown again. I can’t feel shit on any of them.

“And this?”

My hand instantly jerks as he touches the two remaining fingers on that hand.

I frown, displeased at this development. 

“What’s wrong with my fingers, Doctor? I didn’t feel shit on those three.” I fume.

He looks at me, kindly. 

“If you had been brought in earlier, we could have been able to salvage the situation better. But the hospital you were taken to, before you were brought here, had already done some procedure to work on the hand; to save your life. So we only got you back and tried to save what we were given…”

“What does that mean?” I frown, confused.

“I’m saying that the median nerve on your right hand was severed, from that shot. And we could only work on what we could.” He explains, grimly.

I stare, dumbfounded. 

No. That can’t be possible. Three fingers. My trigger fingers. 

“You telling me my trigger fingers didn’t work, because of a nerve damage?!” I bark, my voice startling the nurse.

I don’t care, this is bad.

“Then fix it. Isn’t that why you are paid! I’ve got money…Am the son to Nicholas Albert Bethel! Call him and he would pay whatever you want…” I panic, hysterically.

“It’s not about money, Sergeant. This is all we can do. Now am not promising you anything, but your hand can still work with the two fingers there…” 

“Bullshit, Doctor! Bullshit!” I flare up. “I want my hands working perfectly, or I will shut down this entire hospital!” I cry out.

Am going hysterical. Am taking it out on the wrong people. Suddenly something ignites in my body, and I begin to relax. My mind woozy, as I lean my head back. 

The voices of the doctor and nurse, echoing, as I hear them argue. 

“Why did you inject him with that? It’s against protocol, Kristine.” The doctor’s. 

“Please doctor, I couldn’t watch him suffer the pain.” The nurse's.

Their voices echoing.

“Am sorry, Sergeant.” It's the beautiful nurse. "When you wake again, you’ll be better.” 

I close my eyes.

*** 

***August. A month later…***

I later realized I was in our naval hospital all along, when I finally woke up from that sedative infused into me by Nurse Kristine.

I never saw her again. She was transferred from the hospital for breaking protocol. I don’t know what happened to her. And frankly I didn’t care.

What use am I with only six working fingers? A soldier with no trigger fingers. 

Raoul hasn’t woken up yet. I’ve gone to his room five times today, hoping he would wake.

Yes, Raoul survived.

Something tells me he is the person I saw jump out of the burning van, engulfed in flames. His entire body's wrapped in a bandage. Am told his entire right side was burned by fire.

Only both of us survived. 

Am in my room, eating breakfast, after physio with my nurse.

I asked for a male nurse. I don’t need a woman’s pity eyes.

The phone in my ward rings. 

“Sergeant, your friend is awake. But a warning. He’s hysterical.”