Sunday May 12th Pt. 5
“This is the highest level of Vicodin that I carry outside the medical wing. I wasn’t certain if I had any 7.5s left. You lucked out that I have two. Hold out your left.”
I stretch the arm out cautiously. The severely swollen joint doesn’t escape his gaze. He pours the two pills into my hand before starting on the bottle of water. I’m lost as to why it’s dripping wet until he places it into my right hand. I’m shocked to find that it’s cold, as if it’s been in the fridge but I know he doesn’t have one of those in the back.
I toss the two pills into my mouth ignoring the voice that tells me that I have no idea if they are what he claims, chasing them down with the water. He picks another item up off the floor near my feet and quickly unstraps it. Holding it in front of me so I can examine it briefly.
It’s long and black with three wide straps going across the top. It’s thickly padded inside with a piece of cloth that spans the top.
“Slide your arm inside. I’ll help you with the straps but you need to tighten them. The brace is supposed to bring you comfort not pain.”
I nod with his explanation and ease my arm into the brace. I slip my thumb through the hole at the end and relax the rest of my arm into the brace only to find it doing the same thing as the last one. I close my eyes as my breath comes in pants struggling not to cry out in pain. Just sitting in this brace has caused my wrist to feel like someone is stabbing it repeatedly.
“Lift your hand back up. I had a bad feeling this was why you chucked the other one. I’m going to slide the brace back off. You need to let me touch your wrist.”
He’s gentle yet firm with his instructions.
“Colton.”
He calls me back to him as I struggle with the pain.
“It’s okay to cry.”
All I can do is shake my head no. I can’t explain but it feels like it’s never been okay to cry. It’s never been okay to be weak or scared. They are all emotions and emotions just aren’t safe. I allow him to take my wrist in his hand, while I lay my hand gently on his wrist. He uses his other hand to run his fingers up and down my arm several times. I close my eyes and lean sideways into the chair. I have no idea what he’s doing.
A sudden harsh pull creates several loud pops and instantly sends sharp stabbing pain through my arm. I yelp as I attempt to pull away from him, my fight starts shortly after when I find that I can’t get away. He jumps up on the step between the ground and the door of the jeep, gathering me in his arms while maintaining a firm hold on the wrist he just yanked on.
“Yelp, scream, cry, whatever you need Colton but you must submit. Do not fight me.”
His command is firm as he guides me to his neck. I want to fight this strange move he’s making. Why would I want to lay on the shoulder of the man who just hurt me? Against any reasoning I can produce, I follow his guide. I’m struggling to reign myself in as my asthma starts. I can feel my chest clamp up as I am finally reduced to tears.
“I’m sorry, Colton. I didn’t warn you because it hurts a lot worse when you're tense. The bones in your wrist are misaligned. While this has put some back I will need to get an X-ray as soon as we get to my house to verify if this took care of all of them. The brace should be easier to handle now.”
He tries to pacify my growing hesitation with him.
“Be still.”
He’s back to a very gentle voice as I feel something else happening.
“What are you doing to me?”
I whine as I continue my gentle tugs, testing his grip as I very much want away from him.
“I know it’s hard to trust me right now but I need you to try. Be still Colton. I’m taking on some of your pain to keep you from going into a neurological shock. I’m allowing your body to regulate itself by reducing the pain. Once I feel that you’re ready I will slowly start reducing what I’m holding.”
I remain on his shoulder, concentrating on my breathing. With my eyes closed I start noticing something else, a scent. Barely perceptible, it’s calming my anxiety the longer I stay with it.
“Are you ready to try the brace again? Keeping it still will help with the pain.”
I nod slowly but whine involuntarily as he begins to move.
“It’s okay to be nervous. What’s important is that you don’t fight me.”
He’s conversing easily as he slides the brace back on my arm. I gingerly lay my throbbing arm on the padding as he holds it, allowing it to relax into the shape it wants me to be in. I wince with the pain of moving it but to my relief the sharp pain doesn’t stay making it easier to handle Deven tightening the straps around it.
“Here, this will lessen your desire to use it until we can get a cast on it. I’m sorry but with me having to pop several bones back into place it’s best that you’re in a cast that comes up over your elbow for a few weeks.”
He responds to my simple stare. I duck my head allowing him to place a padded strap over it before helping me settle my arm into the sling.
“Turn so you’re facing forward. I’m going to help recline the seat so it’s more comfortable to ride.”
We work easily together as he situates the seat and seat belt to my comfort. I’m surprised yet grateful when he produces a small pillow and a fleece blanket.
“I run the air conditioner cold this time of year and the shock of popping your wrist is enough to drop your core temp. You’re in enough pain without adding being cold to the mix.”
I nod my head as I settle in. Enough time has passed that I’m feeling the effects of the Vicodin he gave me. Despite the fear he caused when he popped my wrist I feel safe with this stranger. The feeling is as foreign as it is comforting but quite honestly I’m way too drugged to care much about either.
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