Once Shattered, Twice Shy Read online

  He had just finished the feature on Alaskan bears and moved on to Arctic foxes when Dr. Douglass came in again.

  “Your X-rays came out blurry again. We can’t figure out why, so I need to send you for an MRI before I can do anything else.”

  “All right,” Wade said as his heart sank. “When?”

  “We can schedule you for tomorrow. I’ll give you the address. It’s not too far from here.”

  Wade struggled to recall what it was he had wanted to ask the doctor. Once again he wished he had a boyfriend or husband or someone with him who could think clearly and remember these things so that Wade could simply be the patient. As he moved a bit on the table and the pain shot up his arm, he realized what it was.

  “I need something for the pain!” he blurted out. “That codeine doesn’t do a damn thing for me at all.”

  “Is that what they gave you at the emergency room?”

  “Yes. Even though I said it makes me nauseous and doesn’t help with the pain, that doctor said she couldn’t give me something stronger.”

  “Well, I can. I’ll give you Dilaudid. Have you had that before?”

  “No. I’ve never heard of it. It sounds like laudanum.”

  Dr. Douglass raised an eyebrow in surprise, “Yes, it is in a way. It’s an opioid derived from morphine. The pill is very tiny, but it’s very strong. Take the first one when you’re ready to go to bed, so you can see how you react. It should help. And it should not make you nauseous.”

  “Great,” said Wade, relieved he had remembered to ask about medications before he left.

  The assistant nurse came into the room, and Dr. Douglass told Wade to follow her up front. She would make his appointment with the MRI people for the next day and an appointment to see Dr. Douglass again on Friday.

  He helped Wade off the examining table. “We’ll get you fixed up, don’t worry. In the meantime, keep touching your fingers to your thumb. That’s all the exercise I want you to do for now. Otherwise keep still as often as possible.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Douglass,” Wade said and followed the nurse out of the room.

  He emerged into the waiting room with his prescription in hand and the number and address of the MRI offices. He told Tina about the Wednesday and Friday appointments and asked if the short notice would be a problem. She said they preferred advance notice, but this was an emergency, and he should not worry. She could schedule them for him when they got back home. If there was no one available, one of the owners—who were both qualified nurses—usually stepped in.

  They dropped off his prescription at the CVS and went to Kroger for groceries. Lorraine had given him a list before he left. It was so strange to have someone following him around the grocery store. Once they finished the shopping, Wade watched Tina load the car. By the way she heaved the twelve-packs of Diet Coke into the back, he knew she would have no problem hauling him around if he fell or passed out. She was a lot stronger than she looked.

  They picked up Wade’s prescription and drove home. Lorraine was waiting in the kitchen, and while Tina unloaded the groceries from the car, Wade told Lorraine what Dr. Douglass had said. She was upset about the blurry X-rays, and Wade was not sure what to make of it. He showed her his new splint and bandages and his swollen hand.

  “But best of all”—he waved an amber vial in the air—“is a new pain medication! This is not supposed to make me nauseous. It might put me in a coma, but at this point, I’m okay with that.”

  He told Lorraine about the morphine connection and made light of the strength of the drug. He wanted pain relief and sleep.

  Tina brought in the last of the groceries, and Lorraine showed her where to put everything. When they finished, Tina asked Wade what time he needed someone on Wednesday and Friday. He told her, and she picked up the phone to call the Home Care office. She spoke to someone for several minutes while Wade and Lorraine sat in silence.

  Tina hung up the phone. “I’ll be here tomorrow to take you for your MRI. Someone else will be taking you on Friday. It’ll probably be Joe. He’s one of the owners.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  Tina said good-bye and left.

  THE NEXT day Tina returned and drove Wade to the MRI offices, which turned out to be across the street from his regular physician’s office, so he knew the area. The nature of his injury, and the new splint, along with his six-foot-five-inch frame, made for some very awkward positions on the MRI bed, and Wade was glad he did regular stretching because he had to twist into some crazy positions that would not have been possible were he not so limber.

  When the technician finally obtained the images he wanted, he told Wade it would be an hour before they were ready. Wade met Tina in the waiting room, and they went to a nearby deli for lunch. Tina asked him how he had injured himself, and Wade described the ordeal. He asked Tina about her nursing, so she told him about her schooling. They returned to the MRI offices just as the technician was handing the images to the receptionist. Wade paid his co-pay and took the large envelope. Tina drove him home, clocked out, and said good-bye.

  Wade looked forward to a quiet Thursday. His mother would be at her own doctor’s appointment, so he would have the house to himself. He hoped he would sleep, but the Dilaudid was not giving him the relief he expected. It helped more with the pain than the codeine had, and he did not experience any nausea, but it was not helping him to sleep. It was bizarre. Wade felt totally groggy and out of it, but could not fall asleep. He lay in bed, lingering on the threshold of sleep for several hours. It was highly annoying. Wade wondered if he was some sort of medical freak when it came to painkillers.

  If this kept up, he would simply have to alternate the Dilaudid with the Ambien. Maybe take a Dilaudid during the daytime for pain and Ambien at night to sleep. It was better than lying awake in a stupor feeling lonely, pathetic, and increasingly bitter about his situation.

  THURSDAY PASSED without incident. Wade used all his energy to take another shower. He knew what to expect this time, so he was not as distressed when he finished bathing because he knew he still had to dry off. The new splint felt much more secure and gave him a modicum of confidence that he would not cause himself too much pain while flinging the towel about.

  Friday morning Wade hoped he had put enough deodorant under his right arm. It was difficult to do with his right hand. He was dressed and ready before the new health-care person was due to arrive.

  JOE RANG the doorbell and stood back to wait. When the back door opened, he was surprised to see, framed in the glass of the storm door, a giant of a man standing there. Because there were two steps up to the door, the man looked even taller than he probably was.

  He was not what Joe had expected. The man had wavy dark hair and a strong jaw with a day or two of stubble. Shaving can be so difficult with just one arm, he thought sympathetically.

  The man was wearing a blue-striped button-down shirt that set off the deep blue of his eyes, and there was a tantalizing amount of black chest hair peeping out of the open top buttons. The left sleeve had been cut off to allow for the large cast on his arm. The threading had frayed, and Joe smiled at the thought that the man looked a bit rugged and piratical in spite of the cast.

  He was brought out of this unexpected reverie by the rattling of the handle on the storm door as the man tried to open the door with his right hand and push it open without using his left arm. Joe pulled on the door to assist him.

  “Thanks. Sorry about that,” the man said. “Come on in.”

  Joe walked into the kitchen and said, “Hi, I’m Joe. Are you Wade Meadows?”

  “Yes.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Joe said with a friendly smile. “I just need to clock in.”

  “The phone’s right there,” said Wade as he pointed to the wall under the cabinets and above the counter.

  AS JOE bent over to reach the phone, Wade could not help but notice how well Joe’s pants fit. When Joe finished punching in the check-in codes, hung up the phone, an
d turned around, Wade was struck by how tall he was. Joe was just a few inches shorter than he. Wade admired Joe’s thick brown hair that managed to flop perfectly over his forehead, touch the top of his eyebrows, and admirably frame his cornflower blue eyes. A perfectly dimpled cleft in his chin gave him an air of old-fashioned manliness, as did the fluffy chest hair peeking out of the V- neck of his scrubs. It was a dark black that matched the hair on his forearms.

  Wade suddenly became aware of Joe’s eyes on him. He blushed and hoped Joe had not noticed his blatant ogling.

  “When Tina told me you were a big man, I assumed she meant you were rotund, not seven feet tall,” Joe said with a chuckle.

  “You’re not exactly Tiny Tim yourself,” Wade replied.

  “No, that’s true. It’s nice to have to look up at someone for a change… and rare.”

  “Yes. It’s rare for me to meet someone I can look at eye to eye.”

  They stood looking into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity to Wade before he stammered, “I guess we should get going to the appointment.”

  “Sure,” said Joe, “are we taking your car or mine?”

  “Mine, please.”

  “All right. Is it the blue Highlander or the white Yaris?”

  “The Highlander.”

  Joe laughed, “That’s a relief. I was wondering how you were going to fit into the Yaris.”

  “Even with two good arms I have to crawl up and out of that thing. No, that’s Mom’s car.”

  Wade handed Joe the keys and the envelope with his MRI images and got in on the passenger side as he said, “You’re gonna need to move the seat back. I haven’t driven since Tina was here.”

  “Thanks for the warning.” Joe moved the seat back before climbing into the car and adjusting the mirrors. Wade pulled awkwardly at the seat belt with his right hand.

  “Let me get that,” Joe said and reached across him to grab the seat belt buckle. He pulled it across Wade’s chest. “Are you able to lift your arm a bit?”

  Wade was too flustered to speak but lifted his arm. He was not prepared for the physical intimacy of this handsome man placing a hand so near his waist. He lamented the lack of independence for such a simple task and felt like a five-year-old being fastened into his booster seat. He was also aware of the tingling he felt in his groin. Leave it to me to feel like a helpless toddler and a horny teenager at the same time.

  As Joe made sure the buckle was properly fastened, he put his left hand on Wade’s thigh while maneuvering the buckle with his right hand. Wade said nothing, but noticed Joe suddenly jerked his hands onto the steering wheel as though a strong magnet had pulled them there. He turned the ignition key. “Okay. We’re all set.”

  Both men were quiet for a while, except for Wade giving Joe directions on where to turn to get them to the highway.

  “I haven’t taken these roads in a while, but it’s starting to come back to me,” Joe said.

  “I feel quite honored to have one of the owners driving me.”

  “It’s nice to get out of the office.”

  “How long have you had the business?”

  “Almost four years now. I was in regular nursing, but I liked the one-on-one interaction with patients more than working at a hospital itself. About six years ago, I took some time off to care for my grandparents. That’s when I realized there was a gap in the market. People nowadays really need more home care. And with the baby boomers getting older, there’s a bigger demand for private nurses. I talked with some of my colleagues, and a lot of them wished they had more flexible hours than a hospital can give. So I did some research and opened up Grant & Gillis Home Care Assistance with my partner, Pat Grant.”

  “I’m glad you guys are around. It’s really helped with my mother. Who knew I’d need you myself?” Wade said.

  “Pat is ‘Patricia.’ Patricia Grant is my business partner.”

  Wade was slightly puzzled by Joe’s emphasis, but simply asked, “Did you two work together before?”

  “We were at nursing school together and did our internships at the same hospital.”

  “That’s fun.”

  “Yes, she’s a great nurse and she’s a wonderful friend. I wasn’t sure at first how we’d do running a business together, but we complement one another very well. Having someone else there certainly eases the burden.”

  Wade looked out the car window and said quietly, “That must be nice.” A connection clicked in his head, and he turned abruptly to Joe. “Patricia Grant?”

  “Yes.”

  “Grant and Gillis Home Care Assistance?”

  “That’s right.”

  “So, you’re Joe Gillis?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  Wade laughed. “Nothing. I’d just stay away from swimming pools in Hollywood if I were you.”

  “Ah, movie buff, are you?”

  “You know the reference?”

  “How could I not at this point in my life?”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to tease you,” Wade said. “It’s just that I watched Sunset Boulevard the other night when I couldn’t sleep, so it’s fresh in my mind.”

  “My parents named me after my maternal grandfather. I don’t think they made the connection with the movie.”

  “I can’t imagine you got much grief in school.”

  “Not much.” Joe smiled. “At least not for that anyway. It wasn’t until I started going to places like Burkhart’s or Blake’s that guys started making the Norma Desmond connection.”

  “I bet.” Wade did not fail to notice that Joe had dropped the names of two of Atlanta’s more popular gay bars. He looked out the window again and smiled to himself. He thought he could relax a bit more knowing his health-care assistant was a gay man. He would not have to watch his phrasing or his pronouns. He turned his head to look at Joe’s profile as he drove; such a handsome and kind face. Wade felt himself flush a little, so he turned back to looking out the passenger window. Maybe he would not be able to relax after all.

  They arrived at the orthopedics offices, and Wade again tried to damp down the tingling he felt when Joe’s hand brushed his hip as he unbuckled the seat belt and his strong arm moved in front of Wade’s chest so the seat belt did not snap back. Wade got out of the car, but as they walked toward the lobby, he noticed Joe put a hand on the small of his back as he stepped up onto the curb. When the elevator doors opened, Joe ushered Wade in first, and once again Wade felt a hand on the small of his back. Normally Wade would flinch if someone tried to do that, but this felt so natural. He liked it.

  As they rode up the elevator, Wade wondered what it would be like to have Joe’s hands on other parts of his body. Reality intruded as the elevator doors opened on the seventh floor and the bright lights of the orthopedics lobby bleached away his fantasy thoughts.

  Wade checked in, and he and Joe went and sat down on one of the waiting-room sofas. There were at least ten other people in the waiting room, so Wade and Joe kept their chatting to a minimum.

  “Don’t forget these,” said Joe and held up the envelope with the MRI images.

  Wade’s anxiety was increasing, and he abruptly asked Joe, “Would you come in there with me?”

  “Sure.” Joe looked at him with such swiftness and kindness that Wade worried there was more panic in his voice than he intended to reveal.

  Five minutes later the same assistant as before called Wade in, and he checked her name tag: Deirdre.

  Wade stood and said, “Is it all right if he comes with me?”

  “Sure, no problem,” said Deirdre.

  “Thank you.”

  Deirdre led them down the corridor to an examining room. Wade half-consciously noticed that there was one of those X-ray light boards on the wall opposite the door. Deirdre took the envelope from Joe and told them Dr. Douglass would examine the images and be with them in a few moments. Joe helped Wade up onto the examining table and sat down in a chair.

  “Thank you for coming with me,” Wade said
.

  “I’m glad to help.”

  Deirdre had left the door slightly ajar. Wade heard some movement outside and an odd flopping noise. He assumed it was someone putting X-rays onto the board. He was sure of it when he heard Dr. Douglass’s voice say, “Jeff, you’ve got to come see this.”

  Wade looked at Joe with a halfhearted smile. “That can’t be good.”

  Joe patted Wade on the leg. “Let’s wait to hear what he has to say.”

  Dr. Douglass came into the room with the MRI images.

  “Well, Wade, how are you doing?”

  “I’ll tell you in a few minutes.”

  “Yes,” said Dr. Douglass, “you’ve certainly given us something new to talk about.”

  Wade looked at him expectantly but said nothing.

  “We’ve figured out why the X-rays came out so blurry,” continued Dr. Douglass. “It’s because you’ve shattered your elbow into many, many tiny fragments. But the strange thing is—actually the good thing is—that although you’ve shattered your elbow so completely, the bones have not scattered. They’ve more or less stayed in their proper position. They’re just in tiny bits.”

  “What does that mean?” Wade asked as he felt his stomach drop.

  “It means I’ve got to treat this in a unique way. I’m not going to send you to physical therapy because they’d only displace the bone fragments. Instead what I want to do is keep your arm completely wrapped and immobilized and let the bones heal themselves for several months. The blood and bone should fuse back together. If they fuse back properly then surgery will be less invasive. Now, the downside is that your muscles are going to freeze up. However, I think this is the best option. I’m sorry to say that your arm will never be one hundred percent again. While we will certainly aim for a maximum amount of movement, our main goal is to get you into the ‘functionality range.’ In plain speak, we want you to be able to touch your face and wipe your butt.”

  Wade gave a hollow laugh. “Oh, great.”

  “I want to see you once a week for the next month for X-rays to measure your progress and to see how you’re doing. Keep doing those finger exercises, and as your bones fuse and you get a little stronger, we’ll try some gentle movement here. I hate to say it, but this is going to take a lot of time. You’ll be coming here for quite a while.” He looked at Wade with genuine sympathy and added, “I’m sorry I can’t give you better news.”