Page 19 of Fire Fight
“In addition to a large contusion on the back of her head that caused a minor concussion”—that explained the headache—“Aspen also sustained burns to roughly fifteen percent of her body, localized to her left posterior. They’re mostly superficial, medically speaking,” he tacked on as I opened my mouth to protest. There was nothingsuperficialabout this level of pain. “Meaning, the wounds aren’t so wide or deep that grafts will be necessary. I’m not going to lie, you’ll have significant scarring, but they’ll heal over on their own.”
“Exactly how bad are they, though?” I croaked. I knew there were levels—degrees—to burns. I’d be marked by this trauma for life, in more ways than one, but I wanted to know exactly how deeply these physical scars would run.
“Mostly second degree with slight areas of third,” the doctor said, studying the papers in his hands. “You were very fortunate, Miss McKay.”
Funny, I thought.I don’t feel fortunate.
“So what’s the treatment plan?” Dad asked.
“I understand it’s not ideal, but we’ll be keeping you for a few weeks.”
“A few weeks?” I screeched.
He nodded solemnly. “This is a very precarious time in your healing journey. We need to ensure you’re in a sterile environment and receiving routine and proper care in regards to medication and bandage changes. Plus there’s the matter of the concussion, which we’d like to monitor to ensure it doesn’t become more severe. What’s your pain level at right now?”
Before I could answer, Mom sputtered, “That’s outrageous! She would be much better off coming home with us. Don’t you think? Tell her, Donald,” she urged my dad.
The doctor merely shook his head. “I understand the desireto want your daughter under your care, but I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
“Don’t I get a say in this?” I asked. I was growing exhausted by this whole production, my energy rapidly waning.
God, I needed a fucking glass of water, the strongest painkillers this place could legally give me, and to sleep for the next two weeks.
The doctor gave me a sympathetic smile. “Sorry, Miss McKay, but you remaining under our care is truly in your best interest.”
“I agree,” I said, and my mother inhaled a gasp, as though I’d deeply wounded her by daring to agree with mydoctor. Then I added, “And my pain level is probably an eight. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a nap.”
I was out before my eyes fully closed.
When I awoke next,the sky beyond the window of my room had darkened to that hazy orange-pink before dusk, gilding the mountains in a golden glow that reminded me, unfortunately, of fire.
I gave into a shiver and averted my gaze, then took stock of myself yet again.
The room was silent, meaning everyone had left—including my parents. Likely, they’d gone to freshen up while I rested.
I had no idea how long I’d slept, though long enough that my entire body was stiff from lack of movement. Then again, that could also be attributed to the fact that I was confined to this hospital bed. The pain in my head had dimmed from a sharp stabbing to a dull ache that went a long way to making me feel more alert.
Thankfully, I had the room to myself. The exit was on my left,window to my right, and a small TV was mounted high on the wall directly in front of me. Below was a whiteboard with scribbled notes regarding my condition, as well as a bulletin board tacked with numerous medical announcements and drug advertisements.
My mouth was still so dry you’d think I hadn’t even heard the word “water” in several weeks, and the pressure on my bladder had reached painful levels. I was both surprised and pleased I didn’t have a catheter.
As gingerly as I could, I shifted until I could reach the remote with the call button that rested on the small bedside table to my right.
Not long after I pressed it, a nurse shuffled in, smiling brightly at me.
“Hello, Miss McKay. What can I do for you?”
“Aspen,” I said around my sore throat. “Please call me Aspen.”
She winked. “Okay, Aspen. I’m Sonya.”
“Nice to meet you, Sonya. I’d really love some water,” I wheezed. “But first, I have to pee.”
Her laugh as she approached me was a musical little tinkle that settled some of my anxiety. As gently as she could, she drew back the covers and shifted my legs over the edge of the mattress, careful not to go anywhere near my left side. I wasn’t sure how far the burns extended, but I could feel the sting of them along my ribs as I moved around. With a deep breath and Sonya’s hands under my arms, we managed to get me on my feet.
And I damn near collapsed, my legs feeling as strong as jelly, and only Sonya’s support kept me upright.
With aching slowness, we shuffled across the room to the small bathroom in the corner by the door. Modesty went out the window as I gathered my hospital gown around my waist, pulled down the mesh underwear they’d dressed me, and gingerly lowered onto the commode chair. I hissed as my backside made contact with the seat. Fuck, I even had burns on my ass.
