away.” She eased the mask off Carlee’s face.
Hatchet turned and poured a small amount of water from a pitcher that she’d brought into the room with her. “Try some water for me,” she said sticking a straw in the cup and holding it to Carlee’s lips. As soon as the liquid trickled down her throat, Carlee immediately gagged. “Well, no liquids just now. The nose hose has to stay a bit longer.”
With the oxygen mask gone, Matthew leaned to kiss her.
She held up a hand to stop him. “Swish, rinse, spit,” she said in a soft voice. “My mouth tastes like a swamp.”
Hatchet dug through the drawer beside her bed to find a lemon glycerin swab. “Run this around in there and then you can kiss your prince.”
Carlee did as instructed and then reached for him. “Now kiss me,” she said, and he obliged.
Hatchet pulled a spare chair beside the bed to talk to her. “Everything looks good, really good, Carlee. They removed the mass and sent it off for biopsy. The tumor was well-defined as Doc said, so he has positive feelings about it all. You’ll meet with the oncologist sometime this afternoon. Dr. Lincoln has already been in to check on you. It will be either him or his Physician’s Assistant, Troy Black, every half-hour or so for a bit. I will be your greatest annoyance - watching and checking on you every ten to fifteen minutes; this was the arrangement to keep you out of ICU. If it’s not me, it’ll be another nurse, a friend who I work closely with; her name is Rena. Any questions?”
“Not yet,” Carlee replied. “My brain can’t think too hard right now .” She lay back in the pillow and closed her eyes.
“If you need me, call me, I’ll be right here,” Hatchet said and left them.
~ ~ ~
After she was gone, Matthew scooted the chair close and took her hand. She closed her eyes and rested a minute. Matthew’s hand caressed hers; he gently lifted it to his cheek and held it there.
“That feels nice . Can’t you just crawl up here with me?” she asked.
“Hatchet said maybe later, but not now. I asked,” he laughed. “She said you have to lie there really still; you’re not to be moving around, and your head has to remain at that angle for a while.”
“Can we open the tray thing?” she asked hesitantly.
He knew there was a mirror there. “Sure, but before we do, I want to tell you that it looks way worse than it is.” He rose from the chair and pulled the tray table toward her. Lifting the tabletop to allow the mirror to appear, he tilted the mirror so she could see. With great apprehension, she looked at the image before her.
“Lovely…” She took a big, deep breath, and a tear trickled down her cheek. “It’s huge.” The bandage was considerable. Her fingers traced the lines on her cheeks where the oxygen mask had rested, and with a light finger she lifted and dropped the hose in her nose.
“The bandage is b igger than the actual cut. Some of that is padding,” he replied.
There was a tube that appeared to come out of the bandage , and she asked, “What’s the hose?”
“Hatchet said it’s a drain for any fluid near your brain to keep it from building up.”
“Fluid – that’s nice for the gunk.”
“It is,” Matthew smiled at her. “They decided to do IV for pain, something very mild, because I guess they need to know if it hurts or if you get any headaches or feel any kind of pressure. Does it hurt?”
“I don’t think so. I feel it, but not like pain, just like I know it’s there.”
“You still have the steroids and an IV of the stuff to keep you from being sick at your stomach. There’s a drip to give you nourishment. Hatchet said nothing solid to eat today.”
She settled back into the pillow. Q uiet for a bit, Matthew noticed that she had dozed off again.
~ ~ ~
She woke as the Physician’s Assistant entered the room.
“Troy Black,” he sai d introducing himself to Carlee, checking monitors and the drain from her head.
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