Saving Grapes - Madeline Kirby Page 0,59
the same time.
“Made you laugh,” Ben leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Now finish your lunch.”
The occupational therapist/home health nurse arrived shortly after lunch. His name was Tyler, and he looked like a younger Idris Elba. Thom tried not to think about that because Idris Elba was seriously hot. When a guy is showing you the best way to lever yourself on and off a toilet with one hand and helping you bathe, it’s best not to be thinking about how hot he is.
Thom had been embarrassed at first when the nurse had arrived to change his dressings and help him get cleaned up, but Tyler was so matter-of-fact about everything that Thom was soon put at ease.
“I do this every day,” Tyler had told him. “And you don’t have anything I haven’t seen before. Just with fewer wrinkles.”
“You’ll be doing this on your own in no time,” Tyler told him as Thom used the handrail to pull himself up with his left arm. “People adapt to using their non-dominant side all the time, and most of them aren’t in as good a shape as you to start with.”
“What I really want is a shower. Desperately.”
Tyler laughed. “That’s what everyone says. If it was just your collarbone, we could figure something out. But we need to keep your surgery site dry on top of that. It’s a little complicated, and the multiple injuries on your dominant side make it more challenging, but we’ll get you through it.”
Tyler showed him how he could put on shorts and socks and sweatpants using a claw-like device on a stick. Then he helped Thom figure out how to brush his teeth and shave. They used an electric razor that Thom hated, but anything else would have left his face covered with cuts. “Maybe I should just grow a beard until I can give myself a decent shave.”
“Nah. You’ll feel better if you shave.” Thom couldn’t argue with that. He had enough vanity – and enough humility – to admit that it was true.
By the time they were finished, Thom was exhausted, but felt fresh for the first time in days. He also felt more confident and optimistic about his recovery.
“Something sure smells good,” Tyler said as he walked Thom back to bed. Thom stopped and sniffed the air.
“Smells like Jon’s roasting vegetables.”
“Okay, now which one is Jon? Because you’ve got a full house here, man.”
“Jon is Ben’s dad, and the only one here who can really cook.”
“You’re lucky. You’ve got family here to help you and support you. You’ll need to be careful not to let them do too much, though.”
“I’m worried about that, actually. I know they want to help, but I need to be able to do things myself. I don’t know how to ask them not to do something without sounding like a jerk.”
“It’s a fine line to walk, because you also don’t want to do too much and jeopardize your recovery. It’s hard for someone like you, who’s used to being active and independent, to realize and acknowledge his limitations. If you’re tired or in pain, let them help.”
Thom nodded and leaned back against the pillows.
“How are you sleeping? Is the bed at the right angle for you?”
“I sleep okay – the doctor suggested ibuprofen with a sleep aid and that seems to help. I wake up during the night, but I can usually get back to sleep.”
“And the bed is okay? Do we need to make any adjustments?”
“It’s fine. I leave it slanted up like this pretty much all the time. It hurts my back and my shoulder if it’s flat. Also, I’m used to sleeping on my side, and if the bed is flat I start to roll over in my sleep and it hurts like hell.”
Tyler nodded. “All perfectly normal. As long as you’re comfortable and sleeping pretty well, that’s what matters. If you start having trouble let someone know.”
“I will. Thanks.”
“Okay, I’m off then. I’ll be back day after tomorrow.”
Ben put the finishing touches on his application and saved it. He’d submit it tonight, after he’d had a chance to speak to Thom. He stood and stretched, and caught a whiff of something cooking in the kitchen. Dad must have gotten home.
His dad wasn’t alone in the kitchen. Leaning against the counter was a man who must be the OT who had come to work with Thom. He was tall, probably six-foot-two, with close-cropped hair and skin the color of bittersweet chocolate.