Osmosis

by Susan X Meagher

  “Yeah. I think my motor’s really gonna be runnin’ when I get you into this lovely puke-green gown.”

  Jamie lay still and let Ryan work.

  She started at her feet and had no problem until she got to the long-sleeved shirt. That took some maneuvering, but she finally got it off. Ryan carefully examined the arm, wincing at the three-inch long scrape on Jamie’s elbow. “This looks really raw.”

  “Hurts,” she said.

  “Can you sit up so I can get your bra off?”

  “If you help me.”

  Ryan did, bracing Jamie’s body so she didn’t have to hold herself up. She got her bra off and her gown on with remarkable economy. “Okay. If you want me to take the board away, you’re gonna have to stand up.”

  “I’d better. It’s like lying on a board,” she said, giving Ryan a glimmer of a smile.

  They worked together and soon Jamie was lying on the fairly comfortable gurney. Ryan adjusted it so she was reclining, but not supine. Then she started to examine her arm. Jamie smiled at the level of concentration and care that Ryan exhibited. Ryan had her grip her hand, and nodded when Jamie was able to make a pretty good fist. She was also able to move her arm, even though she said it was very stiff.

  “Mmm … I think it’s broken,” Ryan said.

  “Broken!”

  “Yeah.” She looked truly sorry for delivering the bad news.

  “But … I can move it!”

  “I could be wrong,” Ryan said. “But I’ve broken mine … a couple of times … and it looks broken to me. It’s really starting to swell. That’s a bad sign.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “I’ll see if I can get you an ice bag.”

  She went out to the nurses’ station and asked for one, but the new nurse on duty said a doctor would have to approve it. Ryan was going to point out the inherent safety of frozen water, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good. She’d spent far too many hours in Emergency Rooms to think that a lecture would get them to change their policies.

  So she went back to the little room and left the curtain open so they could see what the competition was. It didn’t take long to realize that nearly everyone in the room had suffered a stroke or some other form of brain injury. The women looked at each other and Ryan went in search of a chair, knowing it wouldn’t be their turn very soon.

  After an hour Jamie said, “I should call my mom.”

  “Wanna wait until we know what’s wrong?”

  “Mmm … if our daughter was in the hospital, when would you want to know?”

  Without comment, Ryan pulled Jamie’s cell phone from the pile of her belongings and handed it to her. Jamie smiled and dialed. “Hi, Marta. It’s Jamie. Is my mom home?” She blinked, “In New York? When did she leave?” Jamie looked less than happy. “Was this planned?” She paused to let Marta reply, then said, “No, it’s nothing. I can call her on her cell phone. Thanks. G’night, Marta.”

  She snapped her phone closed and said, “She left for New York on Thursday night and is coming back on Sunday, just like us.”

  Ryan raised her eyebrows. “Maybe she just decided to see a play or something.”

  “Nope. Marta said she told her about the trip over a week ago. She intentionally didn’t tell me.”

  “Uhm … maybe she forgot,” Ryan said, knowing that wasn’t the case.

  “She didn’t want me to know.” Jamie’s scowl grew deeper. “She must be with Giacomo.”

  “Really? Why New York?”

  “Well, he’s an art dealer. I’m sure he goes to New York fairly often.”

  “Huh. I wonder why she didn’t say anything.”

  “Either she doesn’t want me to know or she doesn’t want me to give her a hard time or she embarrassed.”

  Ryan nodded. “Those sound like the most logical reasons. I hope she’s not embarrassed.”

  “I hope she is,” Jamie grumbled. “Then she might stop this nonsense!”

  “Aren’t you gonna call her?”

  “No,” Jamie said, pouting. “If she can have secrets, so can I.”

  They took Jamie for the CAT scan at one o’clock in the morning, and shortly after she left, Scott found Ryan sitting in the empty cubicle. “Hi,” he said. “How’s Jamie?”

  “I think her elbow’s broken, but I’m the only one who has looked at it. She’s having a CAT scan now—for no good reason. How’s Juliet?”

  “Fine. Just bruised her tailbone. I’ll send her back to the hotel in a cab and stay with you.”

  “Nah. Don’t do that, Scott. We’ll probably be here all night. You should get some rest. I can take care of Jamie.”

  He gave her a rueful grin. “How can I sleep when one of my best players is in the hospital?”

  “She’ll be fine. I might be wrong; she might just have a bad bruise. Think happy thoughts and go to sleep.”

  He looked reluctant, but said, “I normally wouldn’t leave, but you two are clearly capable of taking care of yourselves. I can’t say that about the rest of the team.”

  “This is kinda like having a bunch of college-aged daughters, isn’t it?”

  “A little bit. Jamie’s the best of the bunch,” he said, smiling.

  “You don’t have to convince me.” Ryan’s eyes shifted and she stood up. “Here’s my girl now.”

  Jamie looked remarkably pale and small in the large, green gown, but she was smiling and looked good, all things considered. “Hi,” she said to Scott. “They just took a picture of my head. They’re working their way down to my arm.”

  Scott took a look at the elbow and tried not to wince. It was already turning blue and was at least twice its normal size. Jamie had her hand resting on her belly, and Ryan had rolled a sheet up to support the arm. “Looks like it hurts,” he said.

  “Actually, it doesn’t hurt much if I don’t move it.”

  “Well, keep a good thought. Maybe it’s just a bruise.”

  “That’s what I think,” Jamie said. “I think it’d hurt more if it was broken.”

  Ryan smiled, knowing that had never been the case with her broken bones. But she didn’t want to dash Jamie’s hopes for a quick recovery.

  “Ryan told me to head back to the hotel,” Scott said. “Is that okay with you?”

  “Yeah. You don’t need to stay. At this rate, today’s match’ll be over before I get anyone to look at me.”

  “I’ll have my cell phone on,” Scott said. “Call me if you need anything. Do you need me to call your parents, Jamie?”

  “No, I’m good. Thanks, Scott. Good luck today.”

  “I’ll count it lucky if you’re not badly hurt.”

  He turned and left and Ryan smiled and said, “You didn’t ask how Juliet was.”

  “Huh. Guess I don’t care.”

  “That’s a good sign,” Ryan said. “Shows you’re coming to your senses.”

  The neurologist came by at 2:00 and said there was no indication of a head injury. She ordered an ice pack for Jamie’s arm, but the swelling was about as bad as it was going to get. When the ice pack arrived, Ryan got it placed around Jamie’s arm and held it in place. Her brow furrowed and she pulled the gown down from Jamie’s neck.

  “Big bruise on your chest. That must be where your chin hit.” She touched it lightly and Jamie winced.

  “That’s the spot.”

  “Hey, if we’re here long enough, we’ll have you completely diagnosed.”

  “Super. Hey, would you get me a soda? I need some caffeine if I’m gonna be up all night.”

  “You can sleep, honey. You’re on a nice bed.”

  “If this is a nice bed, Juliet’s a nice teammate.”

  They moved Jamie to the regular E.R. at 3:30, and a little before 5:00 she was finally taken for an x-ray. A very tired looking young man showed up at 6:00, holding Jamie’s x-ray in his hand. “Hi,” he said, “Dr. Morgan. Looks like your elbow’s broken.”

  “Damn!” Jamie said. “Can I see the x-ray?”

  “Yeah. Sure. Looks like a s
imple olecranon fracture.”

  “Displaced?” Ryan asked, looking over the doctor’s shoulder.

  He looked at Ryan quickly, clearly puzzled that she’d asked an intelligent question. “Not much,” he said, pointing at the spot on the x-ray with his pen. “Maybe half an inch. It should heal fine.” He examined Jamie for a few minutes, checking to make sure she didn’t have any other injuries. “I’ll splint you, and then you can make an appointment to see an orthopedist in a few days.”

  “Aren’t you an orthopedist?” Ryan asked, narrowing her eyes.

  “I’m a resident,” he said. “But the orthopedist on duty looked at the x-ray with me. He agrees with the diagnosis.”

  Ryan didn’t look happy, but she let him leave to get the material for the splint. “We’ll get you to a good doctor when we get home.”

  “I’m sure we will,” Jamie said, smiling at her partner. “What does displaced mean?”

  “Oh. Just that the little piece that broke off isn’t quite where it should be. That’s not a big deal, though. I’ve had that one.”

  “You’ve had all of ’em!”

  The doctor came back and wet some long strips of gauze. He asked Jamie to straighten her arm, and it took her a good minute to get it to comply.

  “Would have been nice if I knew I should have it straight,” she grumbled. “It wasn’t so swollen yesterday.”

  He didn’t comment, just started to wrap her arm in something that looked almost like lamb’s wool. Then he laid the gauze strips on Jamie’s arm. They were fairly slimy, and she made a face when one of them touched her bare arm. “That high?” she asked, when he placed them from her shoulder to her wrist.

  “Yeah. Don’t want your elbow or your wrist to move.”

  The gauze strips started to harden, and he fashioned it by making a few cuts with a sturdy scissors. Then he wrapped it in an elastic bandage, running it all the way up her arm.

  “That looks lovely,” she said grumpily.

  “You’ll be fine. Just keep it elevated whenever you can. The faster the swelling goes down, the faster you can have it casted.”

  “I have to get a cast?”

  “Probably. Depends on what the orthopedist thinks. But he won’t be able to do anything until the swelling goes down. You shouldn’t even bother seeing someone for three days.”

  “Great. Just great.”

  He held her arm up and looked at it. “Looks good. Take care.” Once again, he was gone before either woman could say a word.

  “Do they learn that in medical school?”

  “They must,” Ryan said. “It’s hard to imagine that all of these people figured out how to disappear on their own.”

  “It’s time for us to disappear. I want some drugs and a bed.”

  “Damn! We didn’t get a prescription!”

  “I’ll call my doctor. She’ll prescribe something over the phone.”

  “No, we should get something here. Besides, we’ll be home by this afternoon. We just need to make you comfortable until then.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous!” Jamie said. “You’ve got games to play!”

  Clearly shocked, Ryan stared at her. “We’re going home! We’ve got to get you to a real doctor and get you propped up in your own bed.”

  “Fine. I’ll go home if you insist, but you’re staying here.” Jamie’s eyes were slightly narrowed, a sure sign of her determination.

  Ryan sat down, looking tired and frustrated. Rubbing her face with both hands she mumbled, “Why are you being so difficult?”

  “I’m not. You have an obligation. You can’t desert your team because I broke a bone. This isn’t life and death.”

  Leaning forward, Ryan rested her forehead on the gurney. “Don’t fight me, Jamie. I’m tired and sick of sitting here all night. My teammates will understand.”

  “You can talk all you want, but I’ll be very disappointed in you if you leave. It’s just not necessary.”

  Ryan sighed. “Fine.” She got up, looking like the weight of the world was on her shoulders. “I’ll go see if someone will write you a prescription.”

  A few minutes later Ryan came back with the doctor who’d spoken to them when Jamie was moved to the regular E.R. “Everything looks good,” she said. “Both the orthopedist and the neurologist have said you can leave.”

  “Can you write me a prescription for the pain?”

  “Sure. What do you like?”

  “Uhm … I don’t know,” Jamie said. “I’ve never been injured before.”

  The doctor gave her a funny look and Ryan said, “How about some Vicodin?”

  “Okay. I’ll give you enough to last until you see an orthopedist. Is that all right?”

  “Uhm … sure. That’s fine,” Jamie said.

  The doctor took her pad out and wrote a prescription for ten pills. Ryan thought that was a little miserly, but she knew that Jamie could get more if she needed it. After the doctor left, they had an interesting few minutes trying to get Jamie’s shirt on. Luckily, Ryan had on a T-shirt under her warm-up jacket, so she took off the T-shirt and put it on Jamie, then zipped up her warm-up.

  “Why don’t you put my shirt on?” Jamie asked, eyes twinkling.

  “I’d look like the Incredible Hulk when he ripped the seams of his shirt.”

  “I know. I think it’d look cool.”

  “Maybe at home,” Ryan said, smiling tiredly. She gently helped Jamie to her feet and they went outside to get into a waiting cab.

  After a stop at a pharmacy, they walked into the hotel where they saw a few of the players gathering in the lobby to head off to the course. Jamie spent a few minutes telling her teammates what had happened while Ryan called Coach Roberts on her cell phone. She was just hanging up when Jamie took her hand.

  “Take me to bed.”

  “Happy to. I called my coach and told him the whole story. He said I could be late if I had to.”

  “You don’t need to be,” Jamie said. “You’ve got plenty of time to prop me up in bed and get there on time.”

  “Fine.”

  Ryan looked a little miffed, but Jamie was determined not to let her injury affect both of their sports. As soon as they got in the room, Jamie was tearing at the prescription bag with her teeth.

  “Can I lend you a hand, sport?” Ryan asked, chuckling at her partner’s attempts to work with one hand. She opened the container and shook out a pill, then filled a glass with water. “Here ya go.”

  Jamie downed the pill and sat on the bed. “I feel like I’ve been beaten.”

  “I’ll bet,” Ryan said, ruffling her hair. “This is a new thing for you. You’re not used to the drill.”

  “I racked up a few skinned knees and a bloody nose or two. That’s it.”

  Ryan sat down next to her. “How ya feeling? Pretty bad?”

  “No, not too awful. It doesn’t hurt as much as I thought a broken bone would.”

  “Sometimes they hurt more as the day goes on, but it’ll feel better by tomorrow. And, you can decide for yourself, but if it were me, I’d take ibuprofen and add a Vicodin only if you really need it.”

  “Really?”

  “That’s just what I do. Vicodin works on opioid receptors in your brain and spine and gut. It’s the gut part I don’t like.”

  “It works on my intestines?”

  “Yeah. You have opioid receptors in your gastrointestinal tract. Every time I take codeine or hydrocodone, I have trouble.”

  “What kinda trouble?”

  “It slows everything down, waaaaay down,” Ryan said. “I hate to be constipated.”

  “Eww! I can’t imagine anyone likes that.”

  “Good point. So I take ibuprofen and only add a Vike if I’m really uncomfortable.”

  “A Vike, huh? Pretty familiar with these babies, aren’t ya, O’Flaherty?”

  “Yeah. More than I wish I were.” She went over to the dresser, knowing that Jamie would have her clothing neatly arranged. “Ready for bed?” She pulled ou
t a pair of pajamas.

  “I’ll just wear your shirt. I like it.”

  “Okay.” Ryan put the pajamas away and helped Jamie out of the rest of her clothes. When she had her settled, with pillows elevating her arm, Ryan sat down on the other bed and called room service. “I can’t believe I’m doing this, but I don’t wanna leave you.” When someone answered, she said, “Hi. I’d like some breakfast. Some kind of omelet … Yeah, that’s fine. And a bagel and an order of toast. No, that’s all.” She hung up and smiled at Jamie.

  “Carb loading?”

  “Oh. I got the toast for you. The Vike can be hard on your tummy.”

  “You take good care of me, babe. I’m damned glad you were here.”

  “Me too.” Ryan sat next to her and stroked her hair. “I really don’t wanna leave you, honey. Are you sure you won’t reconsider?”

  “Nope. I’ll sleep the day away. If I feel horrible, I’ll let you take me home tonight. But I don’t think I will.”

  “Okay,” Ryan said. “Uhm … wanna call your mom now?”

  “Yeah. I guess I should. I just don’t want her to know I know where she is, since she obviously didn’t want me to.”

  “It’s up to you,” Ryan said. “I’m gonna take a quick shower. Want the TV on?”

  “Sure. See if there are any cartoons on.”

  “It’s Saturday morning! This is America! Of course there are cartoons!”

  Part Four

  On Saturday morning at 8:00 a.m., Harvey the landlord opened the door to his office and nodded to Mia. “Well, you don’t lie,” he said, laughing.

  “I do,” Mia said, “but I wouldn’t lie to you.”

  Jordan watched her lover interact with the man, smiling at Mia’s effortless, probably unconscious flirting. Harvey was clearly charmed by her, but Jordan didn’t mind. She knew it was impossible to resist Mia’s allure.

  Harvey took them upstairs and banged on the door before he inserted his key and said, “I’m sure they’re still asleep. Just ignore the bodies.”

  As predicted, a man was sleeping on the sofa, and his boxers didn’t cover all of his equipment. The trio marched right past him, trying to look at the unit without commenting on the fact that a nearly naked man was either asleep or unconscious in the living room. The bedroom contained only two people, a man and a woman. Both were naked, but a rumpled sheet covered most of them. Mia and Jordan tried to visualize the bones of the apartment, but it was difficult to filter out the people and the mess.