“Hip?” I ask.
“Nope, this one goes in between two ribs. It’s a general anesthesia.”
“Ouch,” I say, thinking about the pain it will inflict. I will take the pain of the broken rib; I think to myself.
Keeping up the appearance of bravery, I lay on my good side and hold my breath. Barb takes out a sanitation wipe and runs it over my side. She then takes two fingers and feels for the correct place to put the needle. After a minute and I guess when she is pleased with her decision, she uncaps the shot and inserts the needle between two ribs. I try my hardest not to wince, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to.
“Give that a minute to kick in, and then I can work my magic,” Barb says.
“Ouch,” Mar loudly cries out.
I look over to see Rodge pulling a piece of tree bark out of Mar’s leg. It has got to be a good five inches long. Little splinters come off the bark in all direction. She is lucky it didn’t come out the back side of her leg.
“You just sit tight, sweetie.” Barb pats my shoulder as she goes over to the real action.
Mar eventually falls asleep, which I guess is the purpose of the meds they gave her. I am thankful to not have to watch my best friend in so much pain.
“How are you feeling?” Rodge asks me from Mar’s cot.
“I’m all right,” I lie.
“I doubt it,” he says. “You’re a bad liar.”
“So, I’ve been told,” I try a smile.
“I will give you a sedative, but it might make you fall asleep,” Barb informs me, coming over with another needle, much smaller than the last.
This time she puts the shot into my upper arm. Within a few minutes Mar becomes blurry, and my pain fades away altogether. I can’t imagine why The Force didn’t have anything that felt this good.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
I wake up to darkness. I start to panic at first. This reminds me of when I woke up at The Facility. I move my body enough to test my ribs. They hurt, but not near like they did when I fell asleep. I throw my legs over the side of my cot, trying to gain balance.
Suddenly, a light comes on, revealing that Mar and I are still in the same room we were in when we went to sleep. After my eyes become adjusted to the light, I can tell that Barb is who flipped the switch. She walks in and goes over to a pad of paper and jots a few things down.
“How are you doing, Ribs?”
“I think I’m okay,” I say as I step down onto the cold floor. My feet are bare, my boots resting on the floor beside my cot.
“Take it easy.”
I look over to see Mar still asleep. A bandage covers the spot on her leg that had been gashed open.
“How long will she sleep?” I ask.
“A few more hours, I would guess. You should lay back down and rest.”
“How long have I been out?”
“Eight hours. You needed the rest.”
I try walking around for a minute to test my ribs. They feel great, better than I could have ever guessed. I take a better look at my ribcage and notice that my bruise has faded greatly.
“We have the best of the best medication,” she states proudly.
“I can tell,” I say as I stretch from side to side. I try a small jog back and forth between cots.
“My, you’re the energetic one first thing in the afternoon,” she jokes.
“The stronger I feel, the stronger I am.”
“So, it would appear,” she laughs. “I will be back to check on you in a little while, please do try and get some rest.”
“Alright.”
She leaves the room, turning the light out on her way. It takes a few minutes, but eventually, my eyes become adjusted to the little rays of light coming into the windowless room. Being the curious person that I am, I walk over to the pad of paper that Barb has written on.
It has a few medical terms that are hard to understand on it, but at the bottom is what I am looking for. It says:
Discharge of patients 506 and 507 scheduled at eighteen-hundred-thirty hours.
I look around the room and spot the clock on the far side. It is still too dark for me to see the numbers on it, so I walk over to the light switch. I flip the switch, hoping I can get the light on, the clock read, and the light back off as quick as possible.
I test my speed and accuracy when flipping the switch on, reading the clock, and getting it back off in less than ten seconds. From what I can tell, the clock reads fifteen-hundred-twenty-two hours. That leaves just over three hours until we can go be with our family.
I lay on my cot in the darkness, listening to the movement of the people in the other parts of the hospital. My eyelids become heavier every second.
“Liz,” a voice calls out, “hey, Liz,” the same voice calls.
I open my eyes to see the bright light on in the room. I look over to see Mar sitting up on the cot, Rodge looking over her wound.
I must have fallen back to sleep.
Her leg looks so much better than it did before. It has been sewn up and cleaned so all which remains is a small mark that will make for a nice scar in a few months.
“Hey.” She smiles at me.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better. You?”
I stretch my body from side to