-Charlie-
Whatever that incessant beeping is, it’s getting on my last nerve.

I slowly open my eyes and am met by a bright light. I squint and try to move my hand to cover them. But I can’t. A small turn of my head and I can see my entire right arm is in a giant cast. It hurts to move and I groan out in pain.

“Oh, dear! You’re finally awake. How nice it is to see your beautiful eyes.” A woman says, coming to my side. I slowly move my head so I can see her, and I take in the room around me. She’s wearing scrubs, which means she must be a doctor or nurse. Everything is white. There are wires attached to me. There are people in beds all along the walls. This is a hospital. I lean my head back and groan again, trying to remember why I’m laying in a hospital bed.

“You were in an accident, sweetheart.” The woman says. “It was a pretty bad one. You’re lucky to be alive.”

Fantastic. Sean is going to kill me. Oh, fuck.

“Sean.” I whisper.
“What was that?”
“Sean.” I say, a little clearer.
“I’m sorry dear, there wasn’t a Sean who came in with you.” She responds, her face softening.

“Sean is her fiancee.” I hear a male voice say. My eyes dart to the brunette man who apparently knows all about me. “Welcome back, Senior Airman Coleman. My name is Dr. Gwynn. I’ve been overseeing your treatment here. Do you remember what happened?”

Do I remember what happened? I’m not sure. I remember being on the helicopter. I remember getting to the pick-up site. I remember talking to the medic. And then.....

“Suicide bomb.” I croak.
“That’s correct.” Dr. Gwynn says. “While it’s not the best of situations, I’m glad you can remember that. It means the swelling and coma most likely didn’t cause any permanent damage to your brain.” I’m confused. Swelling? Coma? He can see the emotions on my face, and asks the nurse to leave.

“Charlotte- may I call you that?”
“Charlie.” I whisper.
“Charlie. You were in a very bad accident.”
The nurse already said that.
“You’ve been in a coma for the last ten days.”
That’s almost two whole weeks.
“There are a lot of things we need to discuss.”
Obviously.
“Would you like to talk about them now, or would you like to wait a little bit?”
I don’t know.
“Sean.” I breathe. It’s hard for me to get any words out. A look of understanding washes across his face.
“Your fiancee has been notified of your situation. I called him myself.” He says.
Great.
“Tell me.” I say. He seems nervous.

“Well, as you’ve probably noticed, your right arm is casted. You broke multiple bones in your shoulder, elbow and wrist. Your right leg is also casted, due to fractures in your hip, knee and ankle. You can’t turn your neck too much because you have hairline fractures in your vertebrae, and we’ve had to keep you immobilized in case you have any spinal cord problems we haven’t picked up on already. You have shrapnel wounds throughout your entire body, which we had to stitch up....” There’s something he’s not telling me. “There’s one more thing. Ah, this isn’t easy for me to say.” He pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. “You had so much damage in your lower left leg...”

I know where this is going. I’ve seen my fair share of bomb victims. I know what happens to their bodies. Hell, I’ve seen guys who got all four of their limbs blown off. I’ve stopped their bleeding. I’ve saved their lives. “Above or below the knee?” I ask. It’s the first full sentence I’ve been able to piece together.
“Just above it.” Dr. Gwynn responds. I swallow.
“Can I see?” I ask, timidly. He looks at me, surprised. I guess people don’t normally ask to see their biggest wounds as soon as they wake up from their coma.
“Of course.” He says, recovering quickly.

He pulls back the blanket covering me. First I see the gigantic cast on my right leg, starting almost at my hip. I see a gash on my left thigh, probably about eight or nine inches long. It’s stitched up and I can see it’s starting to heal. Smaller cuts litter my skin until finally he reaches my knee.

At least, where my knee is supposed to be.

It’s a strange sight, seeing your leg for the first time after half of it has been cut off. My skin is smoother than I thought it would be, considering half of it has been butchered off. But instead of rounding out where my kneecap should be, it just ends.No kneecap. No shin. No ankle. No foot. I can see the stitches on either side, closing up where they had to cut it off.

I sigh, looking away from my leg. Tears are starting to well up in my eyes, but I quickly wipe them away. Dr. Gwynn takes the hint and covers it back up.

“You said you personally talked to Sean?” I ask, trying to change the subject.
“Yes. I called him as soon as you were stabilized after surgery.” He responds.
“How did he take it?” He looks down for a second.
“He didn’t take it very well.” He admits. “His friend, Brayden?” I nod. “He had to finish the conversation for him.”

“He was on the road.” I state, more than ask.
“St. Louis.” Dr. Gwynn confirms.
I close my eyes and focus on breathing.
“He’s going to kill me.” I finally say. “After I got shot I told him I wouldn’t get hurt again.”
Dr. Gwynn laughs.
“I think he’ll just be happy to have you home.” He says honestly.

“When will I be going home?” It’s the first time I’ve thought about it.
“Well I’ve been discussing your condition with my superiors. We’d like to see most of your bones heal before we send you to Walter Reed, in Washington DC. At least we’d like to see your spine and hip healed, so that you are more mobile. They are the least severe of the fractures, and we expect them to heal in the next three or four weeks.”
“So I’ll be here another month?” I ask.
“Unfortunately, yes.” He says, with an apology in his eyes. “You just have so many different injuries, we don’t want to transport you until we feel you will be most comfortable, and will risk less re-injury.”

I get it. It sucks, but I understand. It probably would suck to have to sit on an airplane for hours on end when I can’t even move my head without being in pain. And with tensions as high as they are, it’s probably safer to wait until my body has healed a little more before sending me back out there. I just hope I’m not going to be sitting around here for the next month before I can leave.

“We’re going to start you on a small rehab program while you’re here.” Dr. Gwynn says, reading my mind. “We’ll focus mostly on your left side, as well as your neck and some of your back, as long as you’re not in pain. We’ll take it slow, but you won’t just be sitting around.” I nod my head. My eyelids are starting to feel heavy. “I have to go take care of another patient now, so I’m going to let you go back to sleep.”

I thank him silently and he turns to walk away. But before he goes away completely, I stop him.
“Dr. Gwynn. Will I be able to talk to Sean?”
He smiles.
“Next time you’re awake, we’ll let you give him a call.”

I breathe a sigh of relief, and drift off with a smile on my face.

Notes