Her small hand slipped into his. “Just blink to respond. Once for yes, twice for no.”
Out of habit he tried to nod, but the sharp jab through his cheek rendered him immobile.
“Your jaw is bruised on one side, like you hit your face at some point. Nothing broken in your jaw, but that right side is swollen. Are you in pain?”
He met her gaze and blinked once.
Her expression didn’t change. “I’ll get the nurse, then I’ll tell you what I know about your injuries, okay? Do you feel lucid enough for that?”
Another single blink. Yes.
Claire disappeared and after what felt like less than a minute, she was back with an older woman in scrubs.
“Good to see you awake, Graham. I’m Pam and I’m the night-shift nurse. Claire said you’re hurting.” She grabbed a laminated strip of paper with an illustration of ten faces, each with a number below it, demonstrating the various levels of pain. “Where would you rate it?”
He pointed to the eight, and Claire flinched.
“Dr. Mackey ordered morphine for severe pain,” Claire said. “No known drug allergies. I checked.”
Pam raised a brow at Claire’s tone, then focused on Graham. “I’d like it if we can get it below a five and keep it there. Unfortunately, it’s common to wake up in pain since we can’t assess it while you’re asleep, but let’s work together to not let it get that high again. Hang tight and I’ll be right back with your meds.”
The nurse left and Claire scooted closer. “What do you remember?”
Graham frowned and motioned with his hands like he was swiping through his phone. She retrieved the device from the small table next to the bed and he opened up the Notes app, ignoring the plethora of missed calls and texts.
That wasn’t a yes or no question.
“Sorry.”
He tapped at the screen again, thankful his hands were fully functioning.
I remember falling. Not much after that. How bad?
“Tib-fib fracture in your right leg. They took you to surgery and placed several screws. You need to stay off the leg as much as possible for the first four weeks. No weight on it, so you’ll use crutches when you absolutely have to get up, like to use the bathroom. As long as everything goes well you can start putting weight on it at around four weeks and physical therapy will start. Hopefully you’ll be back to walking without a cast or crutches in two or three months.”
He had to stay off his leg for four weeks? He focused on taking steady breaths so he wouldn’t panic. There was no way he could live like that. He couldn’t stay in bed that long. It was impossible.
Maybe she’d heard wrong. The doctor would be back to talk to him at some point, right? Surely they could work out some sort of deal. Maybe two weeks would be enough? He was in excellent shape, and maybe his body would heal faster than others.
Four weeks wasn’t acceptable.
“The EMT intubated you in the ambulance. It’s rare, but you have a mild vocal cord injury from the procedure. Not only will it hurt if you try, but they said you probably won’t have a voice for a week or two until they heal. So no talking.” Her eyes flashed with something, and she swallowed. “I know that will be hard for you.”
Fuck. Graham closed his eyes. His brain spun, trying to keep up with the information. How much worse would this get?
He’d been so careless to not anchor himself at the top of that rock as soon as he got up there. He usually did, but the area seemed flat and steady, it wasn’t his first rodeo, and it had just slipped his mind.
A hint of overconfidence and here he was, unable to climb for who knows how long.
“Otherwise you’re just bruised up,” Claire continued, eyeing him carefully. How much of his inner turmoil showed on his face? Normally he’d be smiling and joking around to fend off further questions about what was going on in his head—his superpower, really—but his default response was impossible right now. Once the nurse got back with the damn meds maybe he’d reassess. “It could have been a lot worse, Graham. These first few weeks will be hard but you’ll get through it and be back outside before you know it.”
Hard? It sounded like a nightmare. He shifted his gaze to the phone he still held.
Does the fire department know?
He exhaled carefully and kept his gaze between the phone’s screen and Claire’s face, trying to focus on anything but the pain.
“Yes, Noah called them. Several of the guys have already asked when they can come see you. He called your dad, too, but had to leave a message.”