Page 36 of Smoke and Mirrors
I relented, not wanting to fight against a guy doing his job and especially when I wouldn’t get very far. I sat back blinking to make my eyes adjust to this stupidly bright-ass room. Details began to filter in despite my head still feeling fogged up. This was a hospital, alright. A skinny guy in his early forties wearing glasses and a white coat stood next to my bedside.
“I promise I’ll discharge you as soon as I can,” he said, dragging over a stool to sit on. “In the meantime, how are you feeling Connor?”
“Foggy as fuck,” I grumbled. “But the pain’s gone.”
“You suffered a pretty serious concussion,” he explained. “Fortunately, your scans didn’t show any skull fractures or bleeding in the brain. However, your brainisinjured and you may encounter headaches, dizziness, or sensitivity to light for the next several weeks.”
“Fantastic,” I murmured.
He took off his glasses and wiped them on his coat. “The young lady with you said you were in pain as well?”
Thanks, babe. Always looking out for me.
I sighed. If I couldn’t get out of here, I might as well reap the benefits of having to stay. “Yes, in my stumps.”
“Would you mind describing it for me and how long you’ve been feeling it?”
I told him every detail I could recall in my fog-addled brain. He applied pressure to my legs and even tapped them with that reflex thing they used to make your leg kick out when you were a kid.
“I’m not a specialist when it comes to amputations, Connor,” the doctor mused as he finished. “But my best guess is you have some pinched or pressured nerves around your amputation points. You wear prosthetics, yes?”
“Yeah,” I grunted.
“When did you last have them calibrated? They’re most likely putting pressure on your nerves in a way that’s triggering a pain response.”
“When I got them,” I muttered. “Three years ago.”
The doctor’s eyes widened behind his glasses. “You really need to recalibrate them, Connor. Otherwise the pain will continue and you’ll prefer spending time in a wheelchair.”
“Not gonna happen,” I snarled. “Either of those options. I can’t afford to get them recalibrated. Why do you think I’m a goddamn carnival performer? And I’d rather deal with the pain than spend my life in a wheelchair.”
The doctor sighed and pressed his lips tightly together. “I’ll make some calls to a few specialists I know. You’re a veteran, correct?” he nodded at the dog tags around my neck. “There should be some way we can help you.”
“Trust me, I hear that all the time,” I answered. “And then that’s the last I hear of it. I’ve exhausted all options, doc. You know as well as I do that I’m just one of thousands of vets this country has fucked over.”
His mouth pressed even smaller, seeming determined. “I’ll make those calls anyway. You know never know what we might find.” He stood to leave and quickly turned back to me. “Are you feeling up for visitors? A whole gang of people came to see you yesterday.”
“Sure,” I muttered, although I wasn’t really feeling up to seeing anyone but Mel. Not that I wanted her to see me like this, but those big doe eyes might make me feel a little better.
“I’ll let the front desk know. Just hit the call button if you need anything.”
Just as he left, I spotted a TV remote next to my bed. Sure enough, one click turned on the small screen up in the corner of the room. I settled back against my pillows and found a college football game to watch. Damn, how long had it been since I did this? Kicking back and watching a football game was a simple pleasure I once took for granted.
I was so into the game I didn’t notice the blonde woman outside my room until she pushed my door open.
“Connor?”
My eyes met hers and my heart stopped. My whole body went rigid. Her hair changed but her face was exactly the same.
“Vicky,” I barked, probably harsher than necessary from the way she flinched. “What are you doing here?”
“The hospital called me,” she said, hovering by the door. “I guess I’m still your emergency contact.”
I leaned back on my pillows, looking up toward the ceiling. “I guess I forgot about changing that.”
“Connor, what happened?” she allowed the door to close behind her and took a few tentative steps toward my bed.
“Not important,” I shot back. “You shouldn’t be here. They never should have called you.”
