hospital beds {remington leith short story}

ten

I've fallen, and Remington is absent, unable to assist me in the way I need. Blood covers every inch of skin my hand possesses....coating my knuckles and falling down the insides of my wrists. I'm aware of the pain I feel. A weak arm of mine reaches to press the button for help, but I'm not sure if my strength is enough for it to have effect. I start screaming....partly from pain but it is tolerable compared to what life gives me every day. 

A doctor enters, one I have not yet seen. Around here, physicians are a rotating cast of characters. It's almost like putting your hand into a bag of junk and randomly pulling....you never know what you will get. 

The stretch of lines entering my body is painfully present when the new doctor attempts to move me. Pulling is present at my chest and my hip....where tubing enters and exists my body, providing  me with medicine. As a nurse assists in lifting my body back onto the bed, the pressure at my stomach is intense, my GJ tube kinking as I attempt to receive my nighttime feed. At this point, my IV has completely broken free of my skin. It hangs loosely by the tape too drenched in blood to function. The skin where it freed itself from my veins is bleeding wildly, almost like a fountain. 

Once I'm finally back on my gurney, both guardrails are pulled up. My mind is rushing with  many thoughts, mainly the one most prevalent....Where is my Remington?. I shout and scream his name, but I'm only meant with hushes and whispers of "Calm down; it's alright," from the personnel surrounding me. I feel the familiar tight tugging on my right arm, knowing they're prepping me for a new IV. I take deep breaths. IVs in my dominant hand have never been pleasant. Hopefully, soon it can be moved back to my left hand, the one Remington carefully cradles as he avoids the needles and tubing there, no matter how much I tell him he will not hurt me. 

With a prick and a hiss from my lips, the act is done. Immediately, a bag is started of fluids and pain meds. Pain management is probably the most important part of cancer. Without the drugs at a constant supply into my system, I'd be hurting too extremely to function. You can't kick cancer's ass in excruciating pain. 

Fingers fiddle with my GJ tube, attempting to fix it without the need of whisking me off to an operation. I've lost count of how many I've had....that's the sad reality of dying. I know my GJ tube has caused me at least 4 itself, maybe more. They all blur together, and each serves the same purpose....prolonging my life. 

A sharp poke is felt at my hip as my pain pump is meddled with. It's for emergency morphine distribution, so it serves a quite important purpose. Once again, pain management is the most important part of my medications. The chemo, the feeding mixtures....those can all be foregone. But without pain medication? Life seems worthless and Death seems a little closer. When you're in excessive pain, you welcome Death a little easier. Nobody wants to live a life of complete suffering. 

My neck is touched to assure nothing dangerous shifted with my fall. I'm not even entirely sure how I went down. My guardrail must have been down for purposes of hugging Remington, and when I rolled over I must have fallen. It has left me a bloody embarrassment....a disaster.

Gentle hands wrap my arm, everything from the tops of my knuckles to the middle of my wrist. I turn my head, and the new IV and catheter in my right hand looks good. Though inconvenient, I presume I can deal with the discomfort for a while. That's what cancer is after all....a bitch of a disease that takes all chances of happiness and comfort away from you. Cancer has stripped me of what I hold closest.....it has destroyed every part of me. Not one cell in this body is unaffected by this disease, not one muscle does not renounce its name. Cancer has taken my hair, my ability to stand or walk, my beauty. Cancer has destroyed every bit of what this world has given me, and I abhor it with every fiber of my being. I never had, and never will have, the chance to truly live my life. My being has been robbed by the disease I find myself plagued with. 

I grab a beanie, pulling it over my head. As dumb as it sounds, I feel self conscious about my lack of hair around these professionals. They're oncologists....they deal with cancer. There's no need for my self hatred to interfere, but I cannot help what my body does. 

There's a commotion, a rustling with much noise before the glass door to my room slides open, revealing Remington in a panicked state. He rushes toward me, grabbing my cheek and turning me to face him. "Baby, baby are you hurt? I'm so fucking sorry; oh my god, are you okay?"

"I-I'm okay," I hum, leaning up to kiss my boyfriend. "It's okay, I'm okay."

"You're bleeding." His eyes travel down and scan my body, assessing my injuries. Remington moves so he's right at my head, allowing medical staff to continue treating my wounds. "Oh, baby. Oh, baby. I could have caught you, I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault." I sigh, feeling Remington's fingertips run over my cheeks. They're soft and gentle, as his touches always are. "I would have fallen anyways. Rather you were here or not. There's no guarantee you would have caught me; it's okay. This was inevitable, it would have happened either way. Don't blame yourself."

"I was getting food," He answers the unspoken question. "I was in the cafeteria....I brought you a chocolate milk to see if you could keep it down." Remington lifts the bottle up to confirm his comment. His eyes are shining with tears. Glistening orbs gaze down at me, filled with emotions of many origins. "You used to love chocolate milk....and they don't have much of it anymore. So as soon as I found it, I bought it! I was gonna wait for you to wake up and see if you could drink. I thought I could make you happy."

"I don't need chocolate milk to be happy," I smile, wincing shortly after due to surgical tape being applied to the skin around my pain pump. "All I need is you. As much as I love chocolate milk....or did....I love you more. I'll always love you the most."

"I love you, too, baby girl." 

Remington and I kiss. It's nothing fancy, but fireworks still explode within my chest. They were present our first kiss, and have not left since. He makes every nerve in my body tingle, tiny explosions occurring at every point where we touch. With a vocalized boop to my nose, I smile, though it doesn't take much for Remington to bring a grin to my face. He's my every happy point. 

As  more tape stretches my skin in a desperate attempt to secure my pain pump tubing, I thank my stars for Remington and grasp his hand, closing my eyes real tight.