A Marvel lous Sexcapade
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SargeChapter 42 free porn video
Believe it or not, five days after I was wheeled from an ambulance into the hospital on a gurney, I was rolled out in a wheel chair to Addie’s car. Frankly I was happy to have the wheel chair. I was out of breath just getting into the damn chair. I could only have imagined walking from the room to the elevator, then standing until the elevator dropped to the first floor, where it would be another walk to the drive up entrance to the ER. I had obviously came full circle in that respect at least.
“We have discussed it and decided that you need taking care of. I’m the only one who has the extra space,” Addie said once I was not so comfortably seated.
“Absolutely not,” I replied. “I need to be responsible for myself. It’s the only way I’ll get better.”
“Bullshit,” Lillian said.
“Language Lillian,” I said with a laugh which made my broken ribs hurt. “Look you two can check in with me, if you want. Addie, I will even let you two do my shopping once or twice a week, but that’s it.”
“I can hook the trailer back to my bike and buy your groceries,” Lillian said. “Abby has a lot to do.”
“Don’t kid yourself, I will help with your recovery,” Addie declared. “While your are down, we need to get you a pair of legs with a driver’s license. Do you have anyone in mind.”
“Well, I’m not likely to find another Sherlock Holmes, so I thought I would just go on vacation for a month or so. Just be busy when anyone calls,” I suggested. “Without you sending me people, I should be able to get some rest.”
We pulled into my drive at that moment. Leave it to the three of us to be all about business, all the time, I thought.
I heard Tiger barking in the rear yard. My back yard had become Tiger’s playground, since he was only allowed to roam the town after dinner. That was a policy put in place by Lillian while I was in the hospital. He was lucky he had a loving sitter, so neither of us complained too much.
I struggled to find the best way to get out of the car with my broken ribs. Finally I just said fuck it and levered myself up in one painful motion. The sound I made was probably was like a teenage girl losing her virginity. Part pain, and part pleasure at being able to accomplish the feat without help.
Lillian handed me the cane provided by the hospital. The cane would show up on my bill I was sure. The ten buck cane, would be a hundred bucks at least by the time it showed up on the bill.
My face was still sagging on one side and my eye wouldn’t close, so I was a wreck. The doctors could not give me a prognosis for the facial paralysis. It was very much wait and see. Worse than the pain was my lack of balance. I had found that out after they removed the catheter. What did one have to do with the other? you ask. That was when I tried to stand to go to the bathroom. It was also when I found I had to hold on to things to keep my ass off the floor. It was something new and scary, but like with everything else I knew that I would adapt somehow. I sure as hell didn’t plan to give up just yet. I decided when it got too bad, I would have my 1911 for a midnight snack. In the mean time, I had some healing to do.
The very first challenge facing me was how to stand up from a sitting position. I found after several failed attempts that it was all about balance and weight distribution. It was painful to twist my body, but that was what it took. Every thing I did involved at least some pain.
On Monday of my first week home, I had an appointment with my Orthopedist. I was in pain while I answered the questions about my insurance and verified my phone number and address. The insurance clerk was good enough to come sit in the reception area while she did the form. She also was noticeable in her effort not to see my new facial defect.
When the xray technician came to whisk me away, he also avoided looking at my problem. When we got to his room, half the size of Lillian’s guest house, he finally asked, “So what happened this time?”
“Bike accident,” I replied.
“Oh, what kind of bike do you have,” He asked.
“I had a one speed aluminum road bike,” I couldn’t for the life of me remember the brand at that moment. Yes that bothered me some. He shot images of my chest, my shoulder, and my lower back. By the time I died, I was pretty sure I would glow in the dark.
After he finished I held on to the handrails in the hallway as I returned to the waiting room. Since I had forced Addie to leave after I exited her car, I had nothing to do. Someone in the office was a member of the NRA, so I read their propaganda for a while. My feeling on gun control is a lot different than theirs. Of course, I don’t have a rice bowl to protect. I don’t buy, sell, or use any weapon which could kill multiple people quickly and efficiently.
To protect my home a Mossberg a five shot, 12 gauge pump gun, cut to trench length, was as much heavy fire power as I needed. I figured that was true of everyone. The courts and populace had gotten so liberal that they wanted to blame the gun makers for some asshole using a gun in a home invasion. Since putting him inside just make him a better asshole. It was my opinion that people needed to just shoot the guy inside the house.
By the time that the receptionist came to lead me to the doctor’s office, I had sunk to reading a home decorating magazine. The doctor was waiting for me. He was Pakistani I felt sure, but I didn’t ask.
He held my newly printed records in his hand. “So Sarge we meet again,” he commented.
“Yep, we sure do,” I agreed.
“So, I have looked at your tests, I need to know where you think your pain is coming from?” he asked.
“It seems to be my ribs mostly, but when I move the wrong way it often shifts to my back. I also have some balance issues.”
“Obviously you took some serious blows to the head,” He replied. “You do remember what I told you about riding a bicycle at night?”
“That if I continued to ride at night, I was going to get killed,” I replied.
“Please don’t turn me into a prophet,” he suggested. “It is too soon to do a proper evaluation, so let’s try some Tramadol again, and Meloxicam for the inflammation. I want to see you in two weeks. We can decide at that time what our course of action going forward should be.”
“How about rehab,” I suggested.
“Sarge, we don’t know what your limitations are going to be yet. For two weeks just concentrate on healing. Keep the wounds dry and change the bandages at least once a day. You also need to use some over the counter eye drops for dry eye. Those you might need for as long as that eye stays sketchy.”
“Okay, you got it. Since my bike is torn all to hell, staying off a bike isn’t going to be a problem,” I informed him.
“I noticed you are walking with a cane right now. If your balance continues to be bad, you might want to carry a cane. It makes you look sick, not drunk.” he said with a smile.
My co-pay for that visit was two hundred bucks. I had expected it, so I didn’t show my ass.
I called Lucy1, my ‘share the ride’ driver. She gave me a ride home for ten bucks. I had prepared three ice packs when I first arrived home from the hospital. Only one of them was a store bought pack. The other two were wet wash cloths in resealable plastic bags. I sat with one of those on my back since it was killing me.
I watched a couple of TV shows which had run the night before. The shows and movies streamed for me from a pirate internet website. I got bored after a short time. Tiger even got bored with me. Lillian came in at noon thank god.
“I’m here to fix your lunch,” she advised me.
“Thanks, but I can do it just fine. I’m just going to have a peanut butter and banana sandwich,” I explained.
“You need to eat better than that,” Lillian demanded.
“I eat just fine,” I said getting a little defensive.
“If you say so,” Lillian replied. She washed my few dishes. “Do not eat dinner. I will be fixing it.”
“You don’t have to do that, but okay,” I said. Then I added. “Thank you.”
Lillian smiled, then left. The days passed slowly since I had nothing to do but sit around trying to think healing thoughts. It had to be a lot like Buddha contemplating his navel orange, I thought.
My balance worried me a lot more than I let on. If it didn’t get significantly better, I was going to be in a world of shit. Sure it wouldn’t effect my driving of a car, but it would effect my ability to ride a bike. As a result of that, I would probably gain a great deal of weight. I guess I could join a Gym. Being around of lot of hot sweaty women should appeal to me. However when I saw their reactions to my face, I was sure it would outweigh the fun of watching their ass walk by.
For the moment at least I didn’t have to decide what to do. The drugs made eating much less enjoyable. I often lied to Lillian during the next three weeks. I made an appointment with the Family Practice Physician in the same building as my orthopedist. I made it for the same day as my next appointment with him.
First was my bone crusher doc. He took a new set of x rays, then told me that I was doing fine. I told him the pain in my ribs was easing, but my back was beginning to fill the pain void left behind.
“That’s to be expected. You took some pretty good blows to your head, and spine. Let’s give it another month, then re-asses your progress,” he suggested.
“I have an appointment with the Family Practitioner this afternoon. I’m going to see if he has any idea about my facial paralysis,” I admitted.
“That’s a good idea, but I’m pretty sure he will just set you up with a referral to a neurologist. You need a complete workup I expect,” the Orthopedist explained. “It could do some good if the full exam just ruled things out. It would be helpful.”
The medical clinic was about a hundred yards from a grocery suppr store in Sanford N.C. My plan was to walk to their deli and buy a lunch entree of some kind. It likely wouldn’t be the greatest thing I had ever eaten, but I would never know unless I tried.
It was my longest walk since the latest accident. I found that I suffered from significant foot drag. I had no idea what caused it, but I recognized that something was wrong. During that walk thankfully I found a fru-fru restaurant about half way to the super grocery store. I was exhausted so it was a life saver.
The snooty waitress took my order for the only thing I recognized on the menu. It had a fancy name, but it was actually a green salad with bacon and three kinds of cheese. It honestly wasn’t bad when served with a few of the house crackers and iced tea. If I hadn’t been sick already, the ten dollar check for the small salad and tea would have made me ill. I was the only blue collar guy in the place, and after seeing the bill, I knew why.
I removed my fancy electronic device which Lillian had convince me to buy. I piggy backed onto the restaurant’s wifi and checked my email.
Lillian’s email was simple. ‘Don’t eat. We are having spaghetti tonight’. Lillian felt as though she had to sign it.
The afternoon medical appointment was a lot of questions and blood work as well as an EKG. The good news., the doctor reported that I hadn’t had a heart attack. The other news was not so good. I might have had a mini stroke. That would account for the foot drag the doctor explained. It seemed more likely that I had a brain bleeder due to the accident. Nobody knew the long term effects. It seemed that I was just going to have to live though it, or learn to live with it. It was definitely not what I wanted to hear.
I gave them my debit card on the way out, then I used my cellphone to call Lucy1. It took her half an hour to show up. I didn’t get home until 4PM.
“So, we are eating at Addie’s house,” Lillian said when she met me at the door.
“Oh, who is cooking?” I asked.
“Both of us,” she said. “You aren’t worried are you?”
“I don’t know, should I be?” I asked with a smile.
“Addie checked me every step of the way,” Lillian explained.
“Then I really am worried,” I said with a smile.
Lillian didn’t understand the sarcasm, but she recognized it as a sarcastic remark.
“So come up about six,” she said simply.
I went into the house, sat down on my bed, then painfully swung my feet up onto the flat surface. A couple of hours sleep might work to relax my back muscles. I hoped that it was just torn muscles causing my back spasms, not a significantly damaged spine.
I had been struggling with the pain all day, so I fell asleep instantly. Pain was so exhausting, I knew. It took months the last time I was injured, just to relearn to do simple things. I knew I was progressing, but it still hurt.
At six Lillian knocked on my door. I shouted, “Okay I’m coming.”
“Do you need help?” she asked.
“No I’m fine. I need to brush my teeth then I’ll be up,”
I brushed my teeth and my hair before I let Tiger in for his dinner. After about two minutes he was on his way out the back door. The traffic was a bit heavy for me to feel good about his walkabout time.
I walked up the hill very slowly. I just couldn’t get used to being so damned clumsy. When I got up to Addie’s place, I noticed a strange car.
I entered the first floor of the former bar through what was a side door at that time. Addie had the front door closed and sealed from the outside. It operated as an emergency fire exit.
“The place smells great,” I exclaimed.
“Blame this meal on Lillian,” Addie said. When she said that, I suddenly noticed a forty something year old woman. I was sure we had never met. She was standing behind Lillian. I gave Addie a curious look.
“Sarge, this is Emily Dunkin,” Addie informed me.
“I love your donuts,” I said.
“You should. I hear you were once a cop,” she replied.
“Not really,” I suggested.
“Close enough,” she said.
“Close is only good in horseshoes and hand grenades.” I explained, nobody laughed.
“So Emily, what do you do?” I asked.
“I’m unemployed. Hell, I may be unemployable.” she said.
“Emily is retired from the state police,” Addie said.
Angelica
- 06.07.2020
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