NewU Pt. 01

"Woah Woah Woah." I interrupted. "That can't be possible. I can't have been here more than a few hours; you couldn't have done all that to me since last night."

The Doctor and Jimmy shared a look. "To protect your higher brain function, and prevent further damage to your cerebral cortex, we had to place you into a chemically induced coma." The Doctor said slowly.

"Pete..." Jimmy finished, "you have been out for almost eight weeks."

I couldn't even process that little nugget. My mind kept spinning round and round, like a tire trying to gain traction on a sheet of ice. Finally, it latched on one of the many missing pieces of information that it felt it was entitled to. "What about Moe?"

The Doctor frowned and looked at my chart in confusion. Jimmy just looked at the floor. "Moe didn't make it." He finally said, the softness of his voice was the best he could do to deliver that blow, "Police say he was killed on impact. I'm sorry."

I would love to be able to tell you how the rest of the conversation went, or how anything went in the following few hours. I had obviously missed the funeral, but the two men seemed to be intent on talking about anything except Moe, mostly about me. There was some talk about physical therapy, and a repeated statement from the Doctor that there was no way to accurately estimate my recovery time... if I fully recovered at all. There was some off-handed comment about having to learn to walk again, and that was the point where I completely lost my shit!

After a tirade of abuse being hurled at the pair of them -- complete with animated hand gestures and a graphic description of what they could do to themselves and the horses they rode in on -- I brought my hands to my face in an attempt to hide the tears streaming down my cheeks. My life was practically over... Moe's was literally over.

"Mister Roberts..." The Doctor calmly said.

"Look, I'm sorry," I sighed, still trying to hold back the tears. "I know its not your fault, I just..."

"There is no need to apologize," the Doctor smiled, "this has been a big shock for you and it's a lot to take in, your reaction is perfectly normal. Trust me; I've been called a lot worse for a lot less. But listen, there are things to be optimistic about."

"Oh yeah," I said with a stare. "like what?" If this guy started giving me some spiel about the Paralympics, I was going to strangle him with my catheter.

"We have been talking for almost an hour now, and I have already seen some positive signs." He said, "your spinal injury could have paralyzed you from the neck down, yet you are able to move your arms and hands without problems. I have seen you cough, and swallow, both of which would not be possible if there were severe or long-lasting neurological or repository issues. That means you will probably be able to eat without assistance, that may not sound like a lot, but it is a huge step towards recovery. If your brain still has control over your body, then physical therapy will be infinitely easier, it won't be a walk in the park, but it will be a lot smoother than it could be given the severity of your injuries."

As much as I hated to admit it, this speech was making me feel better. "Moreover," he continued, "you recognized Jimmy when he came in, you seem to be able to recall events from the night of the accident with almost no trouble; that doesn't necessarily mean that there are no holes in other parts your memory, but it is certainly a promising sign. And... without wanting to sound indelicate, but given the stress you must be feeling, most people in your situation are unable to hold their... bowels." Jimmy and I both looked at the appropriate area of the bed. There was nothing there. "Bowel and bladder control is another excellent sign. I know it may not sound like much; none of these are things that you couldn't do before. Still, the reality is that this..." he gestured towards me, "...is about as close to a best-case scenario as we could have hoped for, it was infinitely more likely that you ended up as a quadriplegic, unable to eat, speak or remember anything about his life before the accident. I know this is hard to hear, but given the circumstances, you are very lucky."

There was a long silence in the room. The Doctor looked calmly between Jimmy and me, Jimmy looked as white as a sheet, and I was trying to think of something articulate to say. "Well... fuck!" It was the best I could come up with.

Jimmy nodded, the Doctor laughed, and the hustle and bustle of a working hospital descended on the room in a matter of minutes. The Doc left a little while later, promising he would come back the next morning to discuss the therapy arrangements, Jimmy and I made small talk as nurses came in and out of the room to perform tasks that I didn't understand, and I paid them even less attention. Most of our talk was about the hotness of those nurses. It's not that girls were all we ever talked about, it's just that neither of us could think of anything better to discuss given the situation. I obviously hadn't been to classes or out drinking, and Jimmy -- who presumably had done both -- didn't want to hurt my feelings by telling me about his life while I was in a coma. Eventually, visiting hours came to an end, and Jimmy got up to leave.

"Hey, before you go," I started, "I probably already know the answer, but I gotta ask... did, err... did you manage to get hold of my parents?"

Jimmy pursed his lips, his jaw tightening for a moment before he nodded.

"They didn't come, did they?" I asked

He shook his head, "I'm sorry, dude."

"Don't worry about it," I smiled, "Fuck 'em, right?"

"Fuck 'em." Jimmy agreed. "I'll be back in the morning. Night dude."

"Woah, wait... what about classes? Actually, what day is it? Eight weeks..." I tried doing the math in my head, "is it a holiday?"

"Nah, man," he laughed, "I... um... we'll talk about it tomorrow. Oh, and its Tuesday." With that, he left.

"He's a good one." A voice came from the side of my head. I looked up at a nurse fiddling with one of the machines behind me; I hadn't even realized she was there.

"Yeah," I answered. "He's a good friend."

"Friend?" she asked with a puzzled look "You don't have to be embarrassed."

I narrowed my eyes at her, "Err... no, he's a friend, a good friend, an excellent friend, the best friend I have ever had, but definitely just a friend."

"Not gay?"

"Jimmy?" I snorted a laugh. "That guy is the biggest man-whore you'll ever meet. If he is gay, then he is doing an outstanding job of overcompensating."

The nurse stopped what she was doing for a second and looked down at me. "Ha!" she laughed, "well, in that case, he is definitely a good one!" the confused look on my face must have told her that I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. "Didn't he tell you?"

"Apparently not."

The nurse smiled and lowered herself into the chair that Jimmy had left at the side of my bed. "He told us you were ... partners." She over annunciated the last word

"I'm not following."

"Partners and immediate family get extra visiting times." She smiled. "That man has been here every single day since you arrived; he literally hasn't left your side during the hours he is legally allowed to be here. We had to kick him out to wake you up."

I literally had no idea what to say.

"A friend of mine was working the emergency room the night you were brought in," she said, "We had absolutely no idea who you were. For future reference, it's always a good idea to put emergency contacts into your phone so the doctors can contact someone in the case of an emergency, you didn't have one. Jimmy phoned you the next morning, we told him what had happened and where you were and he was here within an hour. He had barely left since. He said he had contacted your family, but -- as far as I'm aware -- he's the only visitor you've had."

I still had literally no idea what to say.

"Gotta say though," the nurse said with a smile as she pulled herself up from the chair and started back at whatever task she was doing, "I know a few nurses who will be happy to hear he is batting for the away team." I laughed. I was sure that Jimmy would be more than happy to reassert his heterosexuality. "I'm Amy, by the way, I've been looking after you since you were moved here."

"When was that?" apparently, I could speak again.

"About six weeks ago, as soon as they released you from intensive care."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Amy." I smiled, the strain of the past few hours was starting to take its toll, coupled with the copious amounts of pain medication coursing around my body, sleep was approaching fast.

"You too, Pete. Its always nice to see one of my patients come around, especially ones who have such good prospects for recovery."

"If Jimmy hasn't said it already, and in case I don't get chance again," I said as my eyes started to fall shut, "Thank you."

"You are most welcome."

"Dude. I have been staring at you sleeping for weeks, wake your ass up!" Jimmy shouted as he walked into my room the next morning. "Can't stay long today, there is a bitch of a storm out there, and apparently they want to run some tests on your coconut, so visiting is being cut short. I'll be back later, though."

"Urgh," I rubbed the sleep from my eyes after convincing them to open, "Good morning to you too."

"So, spot any nurses you like the look of?" he asked, dropping into the chair that he had vacated the previous evening.

"Would it matter? they all think I'm gay for some reason."

"Ah... yeah... about that..." he smirked.

"Don't worry. I heard what you did for me... I don't have words..."

"Don't mention it, dude... what are friends for."

"No, Jim," I looked him in the eye. "You don't get to play this one down. My own shit-stain family couldn't be bothered to come to see their potentially dying son, but you lie about your sexuality so you can spend more time staring at my unconscious body."

"And what a body it is..." he joked.

"You're not my friend, man... not after that." A look of concern flashed across Jimmy's face, but he remained quiet. "This makes us family, anything you ever need, I'll be there. Blood makes people related; loyalty and sacrifice make you family. I won't ever forget this..."

Jimmy nodded, he didn't have to say anything, but I could see that it meant a lot to him. It would be a while before I would learn exactly how much it meant to him, but for now, he just smiled, sat back in his chair, and in true Jimmy fashion, changed the subject. "So which nurse do you like so far?"

"I've only met the one. I fell asleep pretty much as soon as you left."

"Which one was that?"

"Amy."

"Ah, I like Amy, she's nice, wait till you meet Becky though... or Philippa... oooh, now they are some hot ass nurses."

"And now that you don't have to keep up appearances..." I smiled.

Jimmy flashed his eyebrows with a wink. "Tell you what, there will be a lot of broken hearts on campus if either of them shows any interest, those ladies are marriage material... and charlotte, hell, I'd cut off body parts if it meant getting a sponge bath off her." He laughed.

"I heard that." A blonde nurse said as she walked through the door, "I'm don't think Charlotte works the amputee ward, but I can check for you."

"Oh, hey, Becky," Jimmy said with a comical wince. "Didn't see you there. Was... err... just trying to keep my boy's spirits up. You know, hospital food and all."

"Uh-huh," Becky said with a smirk, before turning to me. "Your boyfriend is a pretty smooth talker."

"Yeah," Jimmy grimaced again, "about that..."

"Hmmm..." Becky scolded him, drawing out his embarrassment, "Amy told us about your lies, young man, although, I guess Philippa wasn't totally heartbroken when she found out about your newfound interest in women. I -- on the other hand -- have work to do with this handsome fella." She put down the paperwork she was holding and walked over to the side of the bed.

"Ah, well then, let me introduce you," Jimmy said with a grin, jumping to his feet. "This is Pete, handsome, funny, intelligent, charming, perfect boyfriend material and all-round superhero. Pete, this is Becky, a nurse extraordinaire of unparalleled ability, grace, and beauty, diligently tending to your every need during your long absence, her efforts alone are deserving of at least being bought a drink."

Becky and I stared at Jimmy for a few seconds. "Is he always like this?" she asked me.

"You have no idea."

"Does it ever work?"

"Annoyingly, yes... but in this case, he may have a point about the drink. I already thanked Amy last night, but I need to thank you and the rest of the nurses as well. Maybe flowers are in order..."

"Aww, your welcome, sweetie," she smiled, placing her hand lightly on my shoulder. "You're right," she said, turning to the grinning Jimmy, "he is charming..." she moved away, back towards whatever task she had come in to do, "...handsome too." She finished with a wink.

I took that opportunity to have my first real look at Becky; she really was strikingly beautiful, not in that hot, sexy way that girls my age were -- she was clearly a few years older than me, if evident only by the fact that she was a qualified nurse, she'd have to be at least two or three years older than me just to account for that qualification. Instead, she had that classical, almost regal beauty of a Hollywood starlet, her delicate green eyes and perfectly symmetrical features were framed by a mane of flowing blonde hair that cascaded down past her shoulders. Her blue nurses' scrubs were not the most flattering of clothes, but I could still make out the generous chest and slim waist, flaring out into the curve of her hips. Even in the scrubs, her ass was a thing to behold.

I managed to pull my eyes away from her a back towards Jimmy, his shit-eating grin still firmly fixed on his face. He raised his eyebrows, code for 'what do you think?' I could only smile back. If this was the caliber of woman I would be surrounded by, an extended stay in hospital may not be as bad as I had initially thought.

Becky busied herself with her work, checking my vitals on the machines I was still hooked up to and making exaggerated gestures of touching me for my temperature and so on, much to the amusement of Jimmy. However, I would be lying if I said I wasn't enjoying it.

"We'll have to give you a nice wash soon." She grinned, the seductive tone in her voice obviously aimed at teasing Jimmy. "maybe I'll ask Philippa or Charlotte to come in a give me some help," Jimmy gulped as Becky continued, "it's a shame you weren't awake for all the other times we've given you a bed bath." She finished with a wink.

Jimmy's jaw was on the floor, Becky turned her back to him and flashed me a dazzling smile, obviously enjoying the punishment she was dishing out, and the discomfort it was causing my friend. I was suffering from my own discomfort and was trying -- with no small amount of pain -- to adjust my legs so my 'discomfort' wouldn't start pitching a tent beneath my sheets. Becky noticed immediately, flashed a look to the offending area of the bed, smiled but said nothing. I was grateful for her professionalism, even though she was the primary cause of my predicament.

"Alright, you," she turned to Jimmy. "You need to bugger off now, I've gotta wheel him down for his MRI and EEG tests. He should be back in time for visiting hours this afternoon."

"Don't forget his bed bath." Jimmy laughed, pulling himself to his feet.

"Philippa comes on at 12, so it won't be until then." She winked back, "but I'll let her know you will be dropping by... if you're a good boy."

"I can be good." Jimmy grinned. "Pete..." his eyes flashed between Becky and me, "...good luck."

"Thanks." I laughed.

"Later, dude."

"Later."

Becky made small talk for the next few minutes as machines were switched to battery power, disconnected from the wall sockets, and secured to the bed frame. The brakes on the bed were released after a few minutes, and I was wheeled out of the room. Despite being bed bound for the entire time I had been conscious, being wheeled through the hospital corridors was the first time I genuinely felt like a patient and one that was in a pretty bad way.

The bedsheet had risen up, exposing the casts on both of my legs, and -- passing a mirror in the hallway -- I got my first look at the bandaging wrapped around my head, bandaging I hadn't even realized was there. More than that, I looked terrible; my usually clean shaved face had been allowed to grow out, then cut back haphazardly, gifting me with a look generally reserved for homelessness. My cheeks looked hollow, my eyes were surrounded in dark rings, and the faint remains of cuts and bruises could still be made out on the exposed parts of my head. Becky heard my gasp at my own reflection and quickly pushed me out of view of the mirror.

"Sorry about that." She said apologetically. "We'll get you all cleaned up as soon as your tests are finished, you'll be as good as new in no time."

I could only nod. Everything about my condition had been theoretical up until now; the pain meds had kept me blissfully unaware of the pain I should be feeling, my arm had been taken out of the cast whilst I slept, and my collar bone was mending nicely. So the outward signs of my injuries -- at least the ones in my field of view -- had been covered up for the entire time I had been awake. Having not attempted to stand, or even move in any significant way, I had utterly failed to realize how extensive and severe my injuries had been, even though they were now almost two months into their healing process.

My thoughts were pulled back to the present by a sudden flash of light; Becky had wheeled me into a corridor that linked two of the hospital's wings, a long, suspended walkway with full-length windows on either side. Jimmy wasn't lying about that storm, lightning forked across the horizon, lighting up the sky with brilliant flashes, the booming crack of the thunder following a few seconds later. The rain was streaming down the windows in enough volume to give the effect of being underwater. I had always enjoyed watching lightning storms, so I quietly looked out of the passing windows as more bolts hit their targets in the distance while Becky silently continued to wheel me towards my tests.

The EEG was pretty straightforward; electrodes were stuck to different parts of my head. I was asked some questions, asked to move my arms and turn my head and any other movements I could physically manage. They flashed a strobe light into my eyes for a few minutes -- apparently, epilepsy is a common side effect of my type of brain injury -- if did nothing to help my headaches, but thankfully I remained seizure-free. Although the Doctor administering the tests couldn't give me a concrete answer, he didn't think my results were anything to worry about... "All things considered," he added.

Half an hour later, I was in the MRI testing room. The gigantic donut-shaped machine loomed over my head and -- with my offers to help being shut down - two orderlies lifted me by the bedsheets onto the MRI's testing table, setting me down with surprising gentleness for men who wouldn't have looked out of place on the doors of a nightclub.

"Alright, Mister Roberts." A voice came from some speakers around the room. I turned my head to see a technician in a windowed off booth to my right, "we are going to put the top half of your body into the machine, and a bunch of magnets are going to take some pictures of your big beautiful brain for us. Before we start, I need to ask if you are claustrophobic."

"No," I answered plainly, I was getting tired now, despite not actually having done anything.