Page 2
Story: Black Flag
The doctor chuckledlightly before he went on to explain what that meant. “It’s a hole in hislung.”
Why don’t they just saythat in the beginning? Who was the one that thought up all these elaboratenames for shit? I want to meet this person and slap them upside the head.Just because.
“Usually this is causedfrom a hole in the chest wall, such as a stab wound or gunshot wound thatallows air to enter the pleural space. This can also be caused from both blunttrauma and penetrating injuries to the chest wall, Jameson has received both.The track safety officials indicated his belts were fastened but loose—which iswhy he received injuries of this nature.” Tucking the folder in his hand underhis arm, he continued after looking over his notes. “After performing an MRIshortly after he arrived, we observed that this was caused from a cut to thepleura by one of his many fractured ribs. He’s awake for the moment and askingfor a Sway?” His questioning eyes glanced toward Emma and I, trying to decipherwhich one of us was Sway.
I stepped forward whenNancy reached for me, my eyes wide but managing a wobbly smile. Stifling agasp, tears filled my eyes as I entered his room.
There, in the middle ofthe room surround by various machines was Jameson. The sight was strange and anunfamiliar feeling. I’d never seen him in the hospital before.
Among various bruisesand scratches over his arms and neck, his left arm was in a bandage. Hishospital gown was on backwards, open in the front, showing a bandage across hisribs. Bruises covered his stomach and chest, outlining the faint shape of his beltsfrom the car. Even though I knew he was alive, the whooshing and beeping of themachines assured me.
My vision blurred fromtears as I stared at him.
Slowly he turned hishead to look in the direction of the door, wincing in pain as he did so.
When his bloodshot eyesfinally met mine, his gaze was bleary, dazed and completely blank for a moment.
I was beside the bed inan instant; a retarded sob broke through me as I gently touched his cheek.
Jameson’s eyes closed,his lips twitched into a small smile as he carefully leaned into my hand. Hesighed, blinking heavily, and then those beautiful grass green eyes met mine.
“Sway,” he croaked.
I couldn’t stop anotherpathetic cry from escaping me as I bent my head down to his, pressing a softkiss into his hair, my body shaking and shuddering with relief.
He struggled briefly,trying to reach for me but gave up with a moan.
“Shhh...staystill.” I soothedthrough my tears touching his cheek softly. “Please don’t move.”
“Yeah...good idea...” his voice was rough and unrecognizable, but he squeezedmy hand with his right one. His eyes shut briefly, and he grimaced beforelooking at me once again.
“Can I get youanything?” I whispered.
“No,” he replied inthis weird gravelly voice that was unlike him. He tried to turn his head againand then winced. “Fuck.”
“I’ll call forthe nurse,” I said reaching for his call button.
He was either stillpretty well out of it or in a huge amount of pain for him to react that way.Jameson had always been adamant that he never needed help from anyone.
A few minutes later, atall auburn haired nurse walked in his room. “Hey sweetie, you’re awake again.”She smiled at us checking his IV lines. “Jameson, you probably don’t rememberme, but I’m Melanie, your nurse.”
I wasn’t impressed withthis particular staff member.
Why does she have to begorgeous? Why?
In my head, thatPussycat Dolls song was on repeat. I could hardly focus on anything but thesong at that point.
Leave it to me to be singinga song at a time like this.
I used to think it wasa catchy tune...now I hated it. Here Iwas trying to concentrate on the fact that my baby’s daddy was lying in ahospital bed with tubes around him and I’m worried about the tall auburn beautytaking care of him and singingDon’t Chabecause I feel like that’s thesong she would be singing to me.
Damn you crazyirrational baby hormones, damn you.
“I think he’s in pain,”I explained, with a worried glance at his face. I then turned toward Melanie.“Can he have more pain medication?”
Keep your paws toyourself pussycat doll.
“Ah.” She patted herpockets and pulled out a syringe. She had a small scanner in her other hand,and flashed it at his wristband and then at the syringe before setting itaside. “I’ve got the good stuff.” Melanie smiled and injected the contents ofthe syringe into his IV. “That should help sweetie. Let me know if the paingets any worse, okay? Do you want some water, or anything else?”
Why don’t they just saythat in the beginning? Who was the one that thought up all these elaboratenames for shit? I want to meet this person and slap them upside the head.Just because.
“Usually this is causedfrom a hole in the chest wall, such as a stab wound or gunshot wound thatallows air to enter the pleural space. This can also be caused from both blunttrauma and penetrating injuries to the chest wall, Jameson has received both.The track safety officials indicated his belts were fastened but loose—which iswhy he received injuries of this nature.” Tucking the folder in his hand underhis arm, he continued after looking over his notes. “After performing an MRIshortly after he arrived, we observed that this was caused from a cut to thepleura by one of his many fractured ribs. He’s awake for the moment and askingfor a Sway?” His questioning eyes glanced toward Emma and I, trying to decipherwhich one of us was Sway.
I stepped forward whenNancy reached for me, my eyes wide but managing a wobbly smile. Stifling agasp, tears filled my eyes as I entered his room.
There, in the middle ofthe room surround by various machines was Jameson. The sight was strange and anunfamiliar feeling. I’d never seen him in the hospital before.
Among various bruisesand scratches over his arms and neck, his left arm was in a bandage. Hishospital gown was on backwards, open in the front, showing a bandage across hisribs. Bruises covered his stomach and chest, outlining the faint shape of his beltsfrom the car. Even though I knew he was alive, the whooshing and beeping of themachines assured me.
My vision blurred fromtears as I stared at him.
Slowly he turned hishead to look in the direction of the door, wincing in pain as he did so.
When his bloodshot eyesfinally met mine, his gaze was bleary, dazed and completely blank for a moment.
I was beside the bed inan instant; a retarded sob broke through me as I gently touched his cheek.
Jameson’s eyes closed,his lips twitched into a small smile as he carefully leaned into my hand. Hesighed, blinking heavily, and then those beautiful grass green eyes met mine.
“Sway,” he croaked.
I couldn’t stop anotherpathetic cry from escaping me as I bent my head down to his, pressing a softkiss into his hair, my body shaking and shuddering with relief.
He struggled briefly,trying to reach for me but gave up with a moan.
“Shhh...staystill.” I soothedthrough my tears touching his cheek softly. “Please don’t move.”
“Yeah...good idea...” his voice was rough and unrecognizable, but he squeezedmy hand with his right one. His eyes shut briefly, and he grimaced beforelooking at me once again.
“Can I get youanything?” I whispered.
“No,” he replied inthis weird gravelly voice that was unlike him. He tried to turn his head againand then winced. “Fuck.”
“I’ll call forthe nurse,” I said reaching for his call button.
He was either stillpretty well out of it or in a huge amount of pain for him to react that way.Jameson had always been adamant that he never needed help from anyone.
A few minutes later, atall auburn haired nurse walked in his room. “Hey sweetie, you’re awake again.”She smiled at us checking his IV lines. “Jameson, you probably don’t rememberme, but I’m Melanie, your nurse.”
I wasn’t impressed withthis particular staff member.
Why does she have to begorgeous? Why?
In my head, thatPussycat Dolls song was on repeat. I could hardly focus on anything but thesong at that point.
Leave it to me to be singinga song at a time like this.
I used to think it wasa catchy tune...now I hated it. Here Iwas trying to concentrate on the fact that my baby’s daddy was lying in ahospital bed with tubes around him and I’m worried about the tall auburn beautytaking care of him and singingDon’t Chabecause I feel like that’s thesong she would be singing to me.
Damn you crazyirrational baby hormones, damn you.
“I think he’s in pain,”I explained, with a worried glance at his face. I then turned toward Melanie.“Can he have more pain medication?”
Keep your paws toyourself pussycat doll.
“Ah.” She patted herpockets and pulled out a syringe. She had a small scanner in her other hand,and flashed it at his wristband and then at the syringe before setting itaside. “I’ve got the good stuff.” Melanie smiled and injected the contents ofthe syringe into his IV. “That should help sweetie. Let me know if the paingets any worse, okay? Do you want some water, or anything else?”
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