Faking It • Queen FanFiction

Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 15

A rough night. Tossing and turning, coming and going of nurses, a growl of uncomfortable hunger growing in the pit of Bernie's stomach. Her eyelids sagged with the weight of exhaustion, but her brain refused to switch off and her left leg kept jittering uncomfortably. The lights were dim, but not completely off and doctors interrupted the silence; this was no fit sleeping position for a woman like Bernie. A feeling of filth spread throughout her body: she hadn't showered since the evening before her accident, she still had whatever remnants of makeup clung to her face and her hair was extremely knotted up from the wind throughout the day. Basically, she was incredibly homesick, even if the new place wasn't considered 'home' yet...if at all.

Unfortunately, Flo had been unable to visit as she was on an overnight shift, so there was no time for her to come and see her sister. What felt like an eternity down the line and the sun was peaking through the water stained glass of the hospital. All that time she'd been waiting for the salvation of sunrise, she'd barely slept a wink and she was anticipating breakfast. She was also anticipating visitors, hoping that Flo would be able to make it today and perhaps Brian could take her home when they discharged her, this afternoon with a bit of luck.

At eight o'clock, Dr Yoll came over to check on Bernie and see how she got on with her breakfast. The mostly empty tray sat on her side table that could be wheeled over her lap. Just as Dr Yoll was leaving, the head nurse of the ward bustled over and helped get her dressed. "Is there any chance I could please have a shower? It's just, usually I would've showered by now." Bernie tried to reason with the nurse.

"Of course, dear, we won't deny anybody the need for a shower! You may have to take it sitting down though, I'll nip down to the launderette and get you a clean flannel." Bernie smiled at the helpful nurse and sat on the edge of her bed, waiting patiently. Except not so patiently. Instead of doing as she was told, she decided to test it out for herself: there was no way she couldn't walk. So she hoisted herself up, balanced on her left leg for a moment and then shifted the weight to her right leg, taking a step forward. And then she went clattering over.

Rushes of pain thumped through her knee and ankle and she laid there helplessly on the floor, the demobilising feeling still ripping through her right leg. "This is shit!" She cried, the humiliation and frustration catching up on her again. Where had her independence gone? Where had her pride gone? Now she was just as useless as a paper umbrella. No good for training, no good for even walking. For eight weeks! The portly nurse came back over with Bernie's flannel and gasped aloud in shock when she saw her patient groaning in despair and pain on the hard floor.

"Oh dear," she sighed, guessing immediately and correctly what had happened. Bernie was a good couple feet away from her bed, so there was no way that she could've just fallen. At the end of Bernie's bed was a wheelchair, so the nurse wheeled that round, put the brakes on and heaved Bernie into it with difficulty before pushing her across the ward to the bathroom. Bernie, feeling extremely embarrassed, stayed silent and let herself be pulled around and wheeled about like cargo.

Never in her life had Bernie had a more ungraceful shower: a doctor - a male doctor -  had to stand outside the drawn curtain to make sure she didn't hurt herself and then assist her with drying her legs. Luckily, it looked as if the doctor had done this plenty of times before, and had possibly managed with worse, so didn't hesitate for a moment to keep his eyes averted from Bernie's exposed body. For this she silently thanked him and allowed him to dry her with a greater feeling of security than she would have. Looking at her bashed up knee and ankle, things were rough. The skin was taught and flesh twice its usual size, blotchy and dark plum-coloured. It certainly wasn't pleasant and it was then that she realised she would not be on her feet again for a long time.

In the early afternoon, contently washed and changed into a clean hideous hospital gown, Flo came to visit her sister! And she brought...stuff? Why? She'd be leaving for home in a couple hours' time. "Christ," Flo remarked, approaching the sight of her sister's limp body patched together in multiple different places. Not only did she have a broken ankle and dislocated knee, she also had bandaged hands from where they'd cut open from being scraped across the dry grass and a black eye due to the lack of time to formulate a stable landing, along with a couple of grazes on her cheeks to match. "Oh my good God, what the hell happened?" Flo's hand went to her mouth and she sat on the wooden chair at Bernie's bedside.

"You mean Brian didn't tell you?" Bernie sat up, wincing slightly at the twinge in her leg. Again, she'd had suitable pain killers but they didn't stop it completely.

"Well, he said you got crushed by agility equipment at college and that I should bring some stuff for you beings as you're gunna be in here for a week-" she was cut off by a disbelieving shriek from her sister.

"A week! No one told me I'd be captive here for a week! Absolutely not, I am not staying here for a week. I am going home today." Bernie prodded her finger on her palm, reeling it all off as she went. There was the slightest tinge of red come to her cheeks, the feeling of entrapment making her blood boil.

"Yeah? And how do you propose to do that?" Flo crossed her arms irritably. "Berns, I know it sucks and you want to be back at work but you need to take time to heal, okay? I work in respite and there are some people only forty odd in there with the literal inability to walk because they have had accidents and not let them heal. Do you want that to be you?" Silence. "Well?"

"You sound like mum." Bernie almost whined like a child.

"Yeah? Well start acting your age and just accept it, Bernie. I know you don't want to be here, to do any of this, but it's just the way it is." Flo's harsh words caused something to click in Bernie's mind and she found herself feeling grateful that she was being properly looked after, even if she didn't want any of it.

"Now, I brought you some stuff...." Fumbling around in the navy duffel bag, Flo started sorting things out, pulling out some magazines and pyjamas.

29/10/22