My nurse interrupts us, letting me know she is getting me some water. Bethany is so busy fussing over me; I barely notice when the nurse returns with my water. I open my eyes slightly, risking the dizziness to see Bethany. She’s holding my water, her hands shaking as she brings the bendy straw to my lips. Even here, no makeup, clearly sleep deprived Bethany is beautiful.
When I notice the redness around her eyes, my chest tightens and my throat swells, making it hard to sip the water she’s offering me.
“What happened?” I manage.
Bess walks around to other side of my bed, opposite to where Bethany is standing and pulls a chair forward before taking my hand in hers. “You were unconscious when I got to you with the truck. Thank God, Bethany was with me when you called. If I’d have come by myself, I never would have been able to get you into the truck.”
A sniffle pulls may attention to Bethany and I watch her wipe fresh tears from her eyes. I try to lift my hand again, but am only able to raise it a couple inches before it falls back onto the bed, useless.
“Don’t cry,” I plead.
She shakes her head and attempts a brave smile. “I was so scared,” she croaks, her voice thick.
“I’m okay,” I try to reassure her.
She leans over me, pressing her forehead to mine, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. Frustration bleeds from my inability to take her pain away, pain I caused. She drops a kiss on my lips before pulling away to collect herself.
Bess clears her throat and I turn my head back toward her. “You had an allergic reaction to the venom and were in shock when we found you.”
“Allergic reaction?” I repeat.
“Yes,” a new voice confirms, entering the room.
“Hello Beau. My name is Dr. Vanson.” An older gray-haired gentleman in
a lab coat says.
I lift my chin in reply.
“Ladies. I need a couple moments with Mr. Hamilton.”
“They can stay,” I breathe.
He goes right to examine my foot, turning it from side to side before lifting it asking me what that nurse had asked. I confirm that I still can’t feel what he’s doing. Instead of stopping like the nurse has, I watch as his hands move up my leg. He stops every inch to ask if I can feel anything. He’s almost to my knee before I do.
As scary as the loss of sensation is below my knee, it’s a relief to know it doesn’t go farther than that.
Bess asks the question on the forefront of my mind. “Is it permanent?”
“Allergic reactions can present themselves differently from one patient to the next. Partial paralysis is not unheard of, and unfortunately, only time will tell if it is temporary or not.”
He starts to explain a condition called foot drop or drop foot. This is important; this is stuff I need to know about. Unfortunately, my body has other ideas, and exhaustion claims me.
The next time I wake, the room is much darker, only dim lights above a sink in the corner are on. I’m less disoriented and dizzy this time around. Light breathing to my right draws my attention. Even in the dim room, I know it’s Bethany. She’s curled up on a recliner, a long sweater as a blanket, her shoulder a pillow. Not wanting to wake her, I watch her sleep.
Her being here, not leaving me is an unexpected relief in this otherwise scary moment. I’m not sure how long I’ve been watching her when a nurse, a different one from before, comes in to check on me. Her movement wakes Bethany. She rubs her eyes, groggy in a way I’ve grown used to from our occasional overnights. It takes a moment for her to realize I’m awake.
When she does, she takes my hand in both of hers and presses it to her cheek. “Beau.”
“Hey,” I rasp.
“Are you thirsty?”
I nod and she releases my hand to get me water. I only take a few sips before shaking my head to let her know I’m done. Then her hands grasp mine again.
“I’m sorry I fell asleep before.”
She squeezes my hand and kisses it. “You need your rest.”