Page 27 of All Her Broken Pieces

“Really, I’m fine. My eyes are super sensitive to light, and I feel a headache developing, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

She walks around my bed, checking my IV and my vitals. “Any pain in your abdomen? Or anywhere else? On a scale of one to ten, how is your pain?”

“I’m a little sore, but my pain is probably a two or three.”

“That may change as the anesthesia wears off. You should be able to go home in the next hour or two. Do you have someone that can take you home and stay with you?” she asks, glancing at Ethan.

“She does. I’ll be there to help. Is there anything we need to know?” Ethan asks, leaning forward in his chair.

“You’ll receive post-op instructions upon discharge, but we can go over the highlights,” she says as she pulls a rolling stool over to my bed. “No showers for the next twenty-four to seventy-two hours, and no baths for at least two weeks. Once you do shower, be sure to gently pat dry your incision areas. No scrubbing them with a towel or washcloth. You can leave the tape on for about a week or whenever it falls off on its own.”

“What about sponge baths?” Ethan asks, standing and taking a step closer to the bed.

If he thinks I’m going to let him give me a sponge bath, he’s delusional. I shoot him a glare, expecting to find that smirk on his face. Instead, his face is sincere, concern etched in his brow as he looks at Nurse Maggie.

It’s unnerving. I expected him to be jovial, cracking jokes about getting in my pants. I can handle that guy. What I can’t handle is this man I barely know showing genuine concern for me. What’s his angle? What does he get out of this?

“Sponge baths are okay as long as you keep the incision site dry for the first seventy-two hours,” Nurse Maggie replies. “You may have a moderate amount of pain for the first three to five days. We’ve called in a prescription to your pharmacy for Percocet, but you can switch to ibuprofen when that runs out.”

“I’d prefer not to use narcotics, if possible.”

“It’s up to you, but the prescription is there if you want to fill it, just in case. You may change your mind about that as the anesthesia wears off. Also, it’s common to have soreness in your belly and/or shoulder, cramping, and even pain around your incisions for the first few days following surgery.

“Her shoulder?” Placing his hand on mine, his thumb rubs small circles on the back of my palm.

“Yes, during the procedure, the surgeon used gas to inflate the belly so they can see the organs better. This can cause shoulder or back pain for a few days after. She’ll need to take it easy, but she should try to walk and be moderately active every day. Try to build up your endurance and walk a little more each day. This can help with blood flow and can get stuff moving, if you know what I mean.”

“I’m not sure I do,” I say. Actually, I’m very sure I do, but this is not the kind of conversation I want to have in front of Ethan.

“It can help you pass gas and also prevent constipation.”

“That’s enough of that.” I shoot a look at Nurse Maggie, silently pleading with her to stop talking about this.

A crooked grin appears on Ethan’s face as he squeezes my hand in his. “Everyone farts and poops, Bridget. They’re normal bodily functions.”

“Your boyfriend is correct,” the traitorous nurse agrees.

“He’snotmy boyfriend,” I correct her again with a deep sigh and groan. Suddenly, a sharp pain slices through my abdomen, and I release Ethan’s hand and clutch my belly. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” The pain is overwhelming as I squeeze my eyes closed to fight back any tears that are thinking about making an appearance.

Nurse Traitor quickly slides her stool over to the bed, pulls back the sheet, and starts lifting my gown to remove the tape and inspect my incision sites. “Be careful there, honey. Your incisions look okay, but you’ll want to take caution when coughing, laughing, or taking deep breaths like that. It’ll help to hold a pillow against your abdomen.”

Ethan’s fingers caress my bicep, making featherlight strokes up and down. His mouth is close to my ear, and I can feel the heat of his breath on me as he whispers, “Shhh.” When did he get so close?

After a few minutes of his soothing, I turn to Nurse Maggie who has returned to her computer, most likely to type up the aftercare instructions for when I’m discharged. “How soon can I return to work?”

Her stern eyes connect with mine. “Probably not as quickly as you want to. Listen, Bridget, it’s important that you take it easy, okay? The best thing you can do is to go home, rest, and let your boyfriend here take care of you,” she says, gesturing at Ethan.

The nerve of this woman. “Excuse me? I asked you a simple question. I didn’t ask to be judged. I don’t need anyone to take care of me.” Ethan’s hand glides up my arm and along my neck before gently pushing the hair out of my face and tucking it behind my ear. His touch is relaxing, equal parts soothing and infuriating. What is happening to me?

Nurse Maggie looks remorseful, her soft brown eyes crinkling as a soft smile crosses her lips. “You’re right, you did ask me a question. The answer is two to six weeks. That’s how much time you should spend resting before going back to work. But something tells me that you aren’t going to do that. And if that’s the case, you’re going to end up right back here. You’ve just had surgery. That’s a big deal. You’re lucky it wasn’t a bilateral oophorectomy, or we’d be discussing all the additional complications, like early menopause. You have one working ovary left. That ovary has the sole responsibility of handling your fertility and hormone production.”

Rage courses through me, lighting up my blood in waves of molten lava. Who the fuck does this nurse think she is? “I’m going to stop you right there,honey,” I spit the last word, sarcasm dripping off the sentiment. “I’m aware of what ovaries do and how many I have left. I didn’t ask for a lecture or a patronizing speech about what my body is capable of. It’s capable of whatever I choose. I don’t appreciate the assumption that I need to rest my body so my remaining ovary can relax before pumping out eggs for me to turn into babies. Not everyone wants to have kids, and you shouldn’t assume they do.”

“I’m sorry, that was not my intention. But regardless of your choices, you do still need to rest. I’ll be at the nurse’s station. Hit the call button if you need anything.” She smiles and then turns and leaves.

“Fuck.” I take deep, slow breaths, careful not to cause any more shooting pain in my abdomen. I can feel the flush on my cheeks darken as my brain registers that I had that exchange in front of Ethan. I’m not sure why I feel embarrassed. It’s better that he finds out now that I don’t want kids. Maybe that will cure his need for me.

CHAPTER10

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