Page 64 of Heart of the High King
Chapter 27
“Iwant the catheter out,” Rafferty demanded.
“You can’t walk,” Dr. Odocoileus retorted. “We’ve been over this. The pins in your ankle and the rod in your leg were replaced. Your body has refused to accept them. If you put weight on that ankle, it’s going to snap under you. Your only option, at this point, is to have the ankle replaced.”
“So, replace it. I’ve had how many surgeries now? What’s one more?”
“Dermot, you are becoming my most obstinate patient. You need to understand that your health is precarious. You’re fighting the nurses and not allowing them to clean you. I agreed to allow physical therapy to come in here to build up your strength, but you’re overtaxing yourself. You complain about the food, but you fail to understand we have no choice but to restrict your diet.”
“I’m cleaning myself. Why isn’t anything healing? My hips are still open wounds. When are you going to fix that?”
“We’re doing everything we can.”
“When can we do the ankle replacement?”
“I’m not going to authorize that. You need to come to terms with the fact that you will not walk again. My human consultant has suggested we think about amputation, especially with that mutilated ankle.”
“Absolutely not.”
There was a knock on the door, and Rafferty welcomed the intrusion because what he really wanted to do was lift one of his skinny, scarred arms and punch Dr. Odocoileus in the face.
“Hey, Dermot. Doc. You mind if we come in?”
“Happy,” Mortis said, slowly trotting to Conley and Drystan.
“It’s a good thing you’re here. Mortis has been awake for a couple of hours. I want him tranquilized.”
“I refuse to allow my wolf to be tranquilized again,” Rafferty stated emphatically.
“Look, Dermot, this is my hospital, and I am not going to deal with a wolf running around.”
“Reverent Knights, did you mean what you said when you wanted to help me?”
“Dermot, I thought we were on a first-name basis and, of course, but we can’t force the doctor to care for Mortis,” Conley said.
“Can you get me out of here?”
“You are in no condition to be outside of a hospital,” Dr. Odocoileus snapped.
“This isn’t the only hospital on the planet, is it?”
“And how will you get anywhere? You can’t walk, you can’t be teleported, and there’s no hospital within a driving distance you can conceivably tolerate that can care for a patient of your needs.”
“That’s because you still refuse to tell me exactly why my condition is so fucked up and why I’m not healing or getting better.”
Without a word, Drystan disappeared into the hallway while Conley hunkered down to pet and hug Mortis the way Rafferty wished he could. The guy had saved his life, and all he got in reward for that was months of unconsciousness.
“I’ve explained that your condition is grave and given you what information is pertinent. We’re dealing with the issues that we can, one by one. The problem continues to be your body’s inability to heal and that you’re starting to experience new symptoms.”
Rafferty had pervasive pain due to his extensive injuries, tired quickly, slept often, and had a general malaise that never freed him to even think straight. None of it seemed novel to him, and he glared as Drystan strolled back in.
“Dr. Odocoileus, I’d like to give you the number of Dr. Tranelephas. He was the doctor who oversaw the care of the Arch Lich when he had his heart attack. While he wouldn’t be the one to care for Dermot personally, he has a friend who he thinks would tackle his case. We could fly him to Las Vegas and admit him to the hospital there.”
Doctor Odocoileus rushed out to the hallway, and Rafferty guessed the man was so annoyed with him that he’d do anything to get rid of him.
“Would you be okay with being transferred to Las Vegas Council Hospital?” Conley asked.
“Absolutely. I don’t trust this guy, and he won’t answer a direct question. I know he told you guys everything that’s wrong with me for my case, but it pisses me off that he won’t be straight with me. And I’m tired of Mortis being tranquilized. Do you think they’d let me keep him awake there?”
