Date: Tue, 23 Feb 2016 07:51:16 +1300 From: ben zeb Subject: Math Class - End Notes Maths Class Ð End Notes. Saturday morning I woke up feeling grotty. My eyes felt like they'd been to the beach by themselves, gritty and hot. I felt like I hadn't slept for weeks. About nine I decided I'd try again to talk to Keith. I txt him. `Sup'. A few minutes later `Nothin' I send back `Hw r u' I get. `Gd'. I txt `Miss u'. I wait. No answer. I thought maybe I'd ring him but decide no he can do that. Another five minutes or so, still no answer. I get annoyed and fling my cell phone across my bed. As I wasn't needed at the Garden Centre until the afternoon I decided to go for a bike ride. Grabbing my iPod I storm down the stairs tersely telling mum. "Going for a ride." Out the door, I grab my bike, slam my helmet on and bike off down the road. At the end of my street I stop. Which way? I decided I'd go up the coast I. It's a cracker day. One of those spring-day promises, that summer will be great! A cloudless sky and smooth water with the tide nearly in, completes the postcard image. Not too many cars on the road and that's a plus. I love the road. It really is a great ride. Narrow and windy, it's basically a bench cut into the foot of very steep hills. The beach side has native trees growing precariously on a shear bank above a rocky, shingle beach. In most places, there's no room to pull over so travelling on it really needs care, especially as there are many blind corners. Visitors don't understand the difficulties of it. Despite this, its beauty makes it a popular road. I'm peddling away, my go-to music, pounding in my head. I'm getting in my groove and slowly calming down. The road was especially beautiful and I began to think I'd been a bit rash deciding to leave. I would miss all this. I'm about 15 Kms up the road and come to another short rise up to a blind, sharp corner. At the top is a pull-off area for slow traffic. Unfortunately, I'm not aware that the planets are aligning. When that cosmic finger reached out and tapped me on the shoulder, it created a catastrophic result. I take a quick look behind me to make sure no big stuff is coming like trucks and see, about fifty metres back, a Ute towing a boat. All good I decide. I'll keep going. Changing gears and peddling hard, I keep as far left as I can. That's not easy as the seal ends where the bank drops away. There is no berm and no road barrier to prevent traffic going over the edge. And that's what I did! The Ute moves out right to give me more space as it passes. The driver looks over to me. I nod Hi. Suddenly, around the bend from the other way comes an SUV travelling too fast. It swings wide over the centre line. Both drivers take quick action to avoid a collision. The Ute swerves left towards me. The driver realises he's too close and over corrects the other way. The trailer swings towards me. All I see is the side of a boat coming at me. I have nowhere to go. I'm right on the edge with a drop of about five meters onto the rocky beach. Had I stopped earlier, or made it to the pull-off area, all would be good. I felt a hell of a whack followed by an almighty shunt from behind. The next thing I know, I'm flying through the air over the bank. It's funny really. Time doesn't stand still, but it sure as hell goes in slow motion. I distinctly remember looking down thinking I'm falling and I'm on my bike. I topple to my left hitting hard, part way down the rock wall, slide tangled up with my bike part way, and then drop onto the rocks. The last thing I remember is one hell of a bang and nothing else. I don't have many clear recollections what happened after that. I knew I was in pain and a hell of a lot of it! I have a memory of being cold and wet with water washing over my face. I have memory flashes of the local volunteer fire fighters around me and of being lifted and nothing else for some time. I guess I was on the endangered species list as I'm told that I spent the next few days in intensive care. My drug-induced haze blurred most of what happened over the next five days or so. I've been told things but I'm still not sure whether it actually happened or I dreamt it. I vaguely remember people around me, bright lights, pain, pain and more pain. I know I had weird, frightening dreams during that week. And I'm told I babbled away incomprehensibly. But the one thing I swear I remember is someone whispering in my ear, "Don't leave Zebby. Stay here with me. I love you." I had no idea what day it was when I properly woke up. I could see there were tubes in and out of me from several places and a bag of stuff hanging on a pole dripping liquid into me. There's a machine with numbers and lines flashing away. A tube running over my top lip has a couple of probes poking up my nose. I feel dizzy and the lights hurt my eyes and I just want to sleep. I feel like I'm going to be sick. I hurt like hell, from head to ankle down my left side. My tum is throbbing painfully. My shoulder aches and my left arm feels numb and lifeless. My chest hurts especially when I breathe so I have to take shallow ones. My hip aches like hell as does my leg and my ankle. I don't think there's a place on my left side that doesn't hurt. I see a frame over me that makes the sheet look like a little tent over my waist. I see heaps of cards and balloons on the bedside cabinet and sitting on my pillow, right by my head, is Fergus. Managing to turn my head I see lots of buildings. OK. Must be in the city. In a chair, sleeps mum. My heart breaks as I think of how shitty I've treated her. A nurse comes in, "Oh, you've woken up," she goes. How do you feel? I try to say, "I'm good" but it comes out a hoarse, dry croak. My tongue feels like it's stuck to the roof of my mouth and there's a foul taste in there. My lips are dry as. Mum must've woken when I croaked. She's at the side of the bed looking very worried. "Would you like a drink?" goes the nurse. Mum says, "I'll do it," and helps me take some water. My head starts throbbing and stabbing pain shoots across my chest, but at least my mouth is wet and I try to talk. The dizziness makes it hard to think. A jumble of croaks and random words come out. The nurse seems to understand enough anyway. "You're at the Starship Children's Hospital Zeb," she tells me. "You've had a bad accident. You've been sedated since you arrived. Can you tell me how you feel? "Sore." I croak. She laughs. "I bet you are. From what I hear, you had a bad fall from your bike." "Got hit by boat," squeezes out. "Oh. You remember what happened? That's a good sign. The doctor will want to have a look at you shortly. This will help with your pain." She shows me a pump thing attached to a drip in my arm and shows me how to use it. "I'll just be out there, so I'll leave you with your mum for now. If you need help, press this," and places a buzzer on my pillow." That pump gizmo gets a hell of a workout from me over the next couple of days. She goes, mum comes and sits at the side of the bed. I rest my hand on hers and try to say how sorry I am for treating her so badly. Mum just gently brushed my forehead and tries to reassure me saying, "Everything is alright. I have you and that is all that matters." I'm trying to stay awake but slip back into darkness. I wake again when the doctor arrives mainly because of the prodding he gives checking me out. Pain radiates from lots of places and I groan a little. He starts talking to mum but none of it makes sense to me. I drift off back to sleep. The next time I wake, Greg is looking down at me, very concerned. He smiles as I open my eyes and bends down kissing me on the head. "Hey, son. Glad to see you awake. I won't ask how you are. I can see." I try to speak but my tongue is glued again and mumble. "Do you want some water?" He asks. I raise my eyelids as nodding hurts too much and I get to sluice my mouth again. I manage "Hi," and try a return smile. It's so good to see him and there's so much I have to say to him and as I try, he rests a hand gently on my mouth saying, "Don't try to speak Zebby, rest son. I'm just happy you're still here. You gave us a hell of a fright. Rest and heal." "Keith was here." I squeak out. Greg smiles, nods his head. "Yeah, Zebby, he was here. He came the day of your accident. He was here most of the week. He wouldn't leave, demanding to see you. He brought you Fergus. He'll be back, I promise you." I couldn't care what happens next. My mate came! That's the best medicine I could've had. Greg chats away for a while. I need to piss. I manage to let him know I do. He looks around, finds the piss bottle and gives it too me. I indicate I need some help as only one arm works. "Oh!" He goes, "I'll get the nurse." I shake my head no. Fuck that hurt! So he lifts the covers and I'm trying to guide the bottle onto my dick but I can't see properly. Greg can see I'm having trouble and realises he's got to do something. So he guides the bottle over my dick as I lift it up. He's giggling and I'm sort of as it was a bit embarrassing for us both. Finished, I can't shake the drips off so manage to croak out, "Shake it." Greg cracks up. "Oh my God! We're really gettin close now aren't we. Here, try these," passing me some tissues. Trouble is, the need to pee and the embarrassment of the situation, made me chub up a bit. It was impossible not to notice. Greg did as he says, "Yep! You sure are like your father." I give him a sideways look and he winks. The nurse returns and tells him I need to rest. I try to tell her I want my dad to stay. What comes out is "Dad...stay." Even in my dizzy state I can see the tears in his eyes, but he has to go. He kisses me again and as he leaves, he says, "I'll be back," in the worst Schwarzenegger impersonation I've ever heard. I smile and try to laugh. The nurse checks my temperature and the machine, writes things down and leaves again. Mum's back in her chair and I drift off to sleep which becomes my routing over the next couple of days. Mum leaves about seven pm telling me she will be back in the morning. I have a shitty night. I can't sleep properly, pain runs around all over my body and I'm checked every couple of hours. Though I'm still feeling dizzy, I can't stop thinking about all that's happened. The what if's come back. Mulling over all the shit from the past six weeks at school, trying to make sense of it. I couldn't shake the thought, what if I'd just waited five more minutes, or even thirty seconds? I felt lonely and lost and very frightened. I had no idea what the outcome of my injuries would be or how long it would take to heal. That scared me. And always, I kept coming back to Keith. And so it went in my fucked-up, confused, sore head. By Saturday a week after trying to fly, I was moved from the HDU to a general ward. I was more together mentally. The dizziness was still there a little, but not nearly as bad. I was having lots of headaches though. I got to know nurse Jenny quite well. She had a wicked sense of humour. Mum was at my bedside each day, so I had constant help. But at least I could have a sensible conversation. I told her I was so sorry for all the stress I'd caused her and for treating her so bad. She just shrugged it off saying, "I'm just so happy I still have you. Everything will be alright. You gave me such a fright honey. You've been hurt quite badly and we we're all worried about you. Jess, Devon and Darryl all want to come and see you. Keith was at your side every moment he could when you first got here and stayed here until he was sure you'd pull through." That made me feel better. I ask, "How bad am I mum?" "Don't worry about that now love. You'll get better. Just rest for now." "Tell me mum, please?" "Zebby, please honey. I don't think this is the time. You're still drowsy. Why not wait for the doctor." "Why? You're a nurse and I'd rather hear it from you anyway." Mum takes a deep breath and sighs. "Zebby, everything will heal, but it's going to take time. Do you understand love?" "Yes mum." Mum tells me that when my rescuers got to me, I was lying face down on rocks. A stick had snagged my helmet, holding my head out of the water, preventing me from drowning. Another branch penetrated my stomach making a hole the size of a fifty-cent coin. Together with a deep slash in my thigh, a cut on my temple and some internal haemorrhaging, I went into shock due to a dangerous loss of blood. The fall had caused pretty severe damage. I had broken bones down my left side; my collarbone, some ribs, my fibula and worst of all, my hip. I was a mess. As well, I had concussion and heaps of cuts and grazes all over me. The surgery I needed had to wait until I was stabilised and then my collarbone was plated to reconnect the pieces, my hip to stop the bleeding and my tum cleaned and stitched together. Mum tells me it was touch and go for about 48 hours whether I'd make it through. I understood most of what mum said except about my hip. I tried not to show that it all scared the shit out of me but I guess my fear showed. "I joke "Just a few bumps and bruises then." Mum chuckled, "Yes love, just bumps and bruises. Honey, you will heal and be fine. I promise you. But it's going to take some time. We have to get you well enough to come home." Greg came through the door finishing our conversation. Mum took the opportunity to go for a coffee. I ask, "How's Keith?" "He's Ok Zeb." I want to ask about Keith, but he deflects the questions and comes back to me asking me if I'm feeling better. I tell him as much as I understand about what mum told me. He has a look at the injuries. Dropping the sheet he says, "You really have done a job haven't you?" "Yeah but you should see the ding in the boat." We laugh. It's a dork joke, but it eases his concern. "I need to know how Keith is Greg. I know he's been here. When can he come back?" I ask. "I don't know Zeb. This," he waves his hand over me, "Has totally shaken him. He wouldn't leave until he knew you would be OK. He's worried about something. All he keeps saying is that you said you would never leave him." "I haven't left him Greg. This was simply an accident. Please let him know that," I plead. "I will Zebby, but what does he mean?" I can feel myself tearing up and a sob or two struggling for air. "That I tried to do it deliberately." Then the sobs arrive. Greg gently lifts me and slips his arms around me whispering, "It's OK Zebby. Things will be alright." I calm down and tell him I'm sorry for being such a prat. Sitting on the bed, he brushes his hand through my hair, picks up my hand, kisses the palm and holds it against his face. The stubble tickles. There's not much more to say about Keith or me and so we turn to the farm. I apologise for lying to him and explain why I didn't come back and also for causing him so much trouble when I did the runner. Greg says he figured that was the reason I wouldn't come and that the bike has been fixed. I smile at that and tell him "It'll be a while before I get back on that." He just says, "It'll be there when you're ready son". Mum comes back followed by the doctor and nurse. The doctor begins poking and prodding, checking this and that. I try not to show too much pain. Then the doc gives his prognosis. "Well Zeb. You've done a job, that's for sure. I'm afraid you'll be here for quite some time. Your pelvis has taken a severe knock and will take a while to repair itself. I'm afraid you'll be in hospital until we're sure you are able to support yourself on crutches. You'll have to keep the weight off until it has healed fully. About twelve weeks at least. You won't be getting out of bed for a little while yet. You'll have to have more scans on both your head and especially your hip. We want to make sure you haven't damaged anything else. The concussion should have healed but let the nurse know if you feel dizzy or sick. Your tum looks better and it should heal nicely. It still looks a little inflamed so let nurse know if it gives you trouble. The plate on your collarbone with help heal and strengthen it. The ligaments have been repaired too. So you may feel some discomfort for a while. In another week or so, your physio should begin. Do you have any questions for me?" Id lost him way back at not getting out of bed. So I ask, "What about going to the toilet?" "Well, there's the bottle to urinate in and sorry, but you'll have to use a bed pan for the other.' "What? Shit in the bed!" I go. The nurse tries not to laugh and the doctor doesn't know what to say. With everything else going on, I hadn't thought about having to have a dump. "Well, yes," he goes, "But I wouldn't put it quite like that. Have you had a bowel movement yet?" I shake my head. He looks at the nurse and says something I can't quite make out. But I do make out one word. Enema!! I go pale. He has a discussion with mum and `dad' and off the medicos trot. We talk about what the doctor has said and mum explains what I haven't understood. I'm concerned about how long I might be in hospital. Mum tries to explain about pelvic injuries, but it's over my head. Maybe later I tell mum. Greg says he has to go but I don't want him to. I try to hug him but moving hurts too much. He kisses me on the head and tells me he will get Keith here, don't worry and then he is gone. Mum sits with me making sure I'm Ok. I drift back to sleep. The next few days are filled with scans and checks and the like. And the dreaded enema! That's all I'm saying about that! My stomach wound begins to flare up and becomes sceptic. That sends me back into surgery where they discover a tear in my intestine. That gets stitched. The orthopaedic surgeon checks me over asking questions about my bowel movements and have I had any feelings down there, pointing to my waist. I go, "What?" He says have you had any erections yet. WTF I think. I go "What?" I can see he's getting frustrated. "Ahh," checking his sheet, "Right, Zeb. Pelvis fractures can be very serious especially if nerves are damaged. It can affect erectile function and bowel movement. Have you had any bowel movements or, ahh, you know, had a stiffy." Oh, fuck, I think. Can this get any more embarrassing? I just nod. He goes on but it's all too technical. Something about three bones and iliac wings and sacra something or other. WTF is that I'm thinking. I'm lost. Most of what he says is said to the nurse and I feel like shouting, `Hello! I'm down here. It's me you're talking about!' Mum can see my frustration and leans over and asks, "Do you understand all this Zeb?" "Not really." The surgeon looks at me and says, "I'll draw you a picture." He does a quick pic of my hip with a piece of it floating by itself. He explains that there are ligaments and muscle attached to it. It may need to be pinned to help it reaffix." "Oh, gotcha," I reply. Then he's off. Mum does her best to explain how the pelvis all fits together and how it affects movement. She keeps it simple and I get a fair idea what I may be in for. A freaken long time to heal! Debbie arrives with Sarah on Wednesday. She comes running through the door and tries climbing on the bed. I give her a hand and she wraps her arms around me and slaps a big wet kiss on my cheek. "I told Keith to come, but he won't. He's naughty." "That's Ok. He will when he's ready." We chat about this and that. Debbie deflects her questions when Sarah tries to ask me about what happened. Mum explains to Debbie what's what and what's likely next. Mum and Debbie have a quick look under the sheet before I can cover myself. Debbie realises, goes red and apologises. Of course Sarah sees this and wants to see my hurts, as she puts it. Hello! As if that's ever gunna happen! Before they leave, I pick up Fergus. I'm stroking his mane and say to Sarah, "Give Fergus to Keith. You tell him this. Zeb says Fergus has always been there for him and will be for you. So is Zeb. Can you remember all that Sarah?" "Yes," she says and repeats it over and over. Friday Jess, Devon and Darryl came up. I was wrapped. Darryl is all concern and technical wanting to know this and that about my injuries. I give him the short version. Jess wants to know how it happened and asks, "Is it true you got hit by a truck, cause your face looks like it. "What? No a boat," and then I click, "You shithead." I tell him all I know. They're looking worried and ask a zillion questions. It sinks in that I came close to not making it, especially about the stick holding up my helmet. Jess is curious about the damage and wants to see. He comes around and lifts the sheet just as Devon joins him. Too late, I don't have time to cover or warn. Devon leaps back, covers her eyes and cries "Oh my God." Jess doesn't click at first and says "Yeah, pretty bad" and realises what Devon saw. I'm laughing, "Yep! There's some pretty big stuff under there." Devon goes even redder and has trouble looking at me. But I know it doesn't look good. The bruising has really come out and I'm coloured black, blue and yellowy-brown all down my side. Darryl decides he needs to see too. He spends quite some time checking me out and when done, looks at me and very quietly says, "It's all working Ok, is it Zeb?" And gives me a big smile. Oh, how I would love him to take me for a test run. I kid him saying, "Why not come back later and find out." "Love to" he goes. "So, taking advantage of an invalid, eh, dirty bugger," I laugh. Jess gets the joke; thankfully it's over Devon's head. We talk about things. They're interested in my Homer bed as I call it; bed goes up, bed goes down, and we have to trial it. They all have a crack at lying next to me and raising and lowering it. You'd think we were all at the fun park. We're laughing and joking around and the fun police come in and warn them if they aren't quiet they'll have to leave, and keep of the bed. I pipe up and say, "Me to." At least that makes the nurse smile. Time comes round and they all have to go. I'm sad about that as having them there really lifted my spirits. Hugs from all and a kiss from Devon and promises to come back and then they're gone. I think that was one of the loneliest moments I'd had so far. Greg arrived on Saturday. Two weeks since my downhill as we've called it. He smiles and kisses me on the head and tells me Keith wants me to ring him. "I haven't got a phone, can I use yours?" "Yes you do Zeb. Here," and standing in the doorway is the best thing I could ever see. Keith! I'm struggling not to bawl and my eyes are blurring fast. Keith walks slowly over to me, hands me a phone and tells me, "Ring me." Then he leans down, wraps his arms around me trying not to cause me pain, and whispers in my ear, "I missed you. Don't you dare die!" I didn't care who was in the room. I ran my fingers through his hair and kissed him. Greg wiped his eyes and told us he'd just go out and get some coffee. I can't believe Keith is here. I wanted to say so much but didn't know how to start. Keith seemed the same and stood there, not knowing where to look. The silence became too much and I blurted out, "I never left you. It was an accident. I didn't do it deliberately. Even the worst day with you is better than no day without you. " Keith looked at me, not saying anything. I added, "I heard you buddy. I heard what you said." Keith sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the floor. Softly he said, "I don't know what would happen if you'd died. I really thought you would. When I saw you that's what I thought. You looked so broken." I didn't know what to say next. There was awkwardness between us. It sounded weak, but I simply said, "I'm so sorry Keith." He gave a wry smile. "I should've believed you. Maybe all this wouldn't have happened." I moved my hand so it was just touching his. Keith looked down at it. "You didn't have anything to do with this Keith. I got snotted by a boat, is all. Could'a happened any day." Then he broke down. He sobbed out, "I'm sorry Zebby. I did cause it. I didn't believe you cause I didn't want to. I liked being with Em cause it sorta made me feel, I dunno, normal I guess. But I kept thinking about us and just got more and more confused. Please don't be angry with me Zebby." "Angry? I'm not angry with you buddy." "But I hurt you. You should be angry." "Look Keith, I'd have gone riding anyway. It was a cracker day and I love riding up that road when it's like that. As to you causing this. No way Buddy. I was having probs with mum. I felt shitty with Em, and I still do. I'm fucked-off about what was going down at school and I was gutted that I thought the only way out was to leave. I had to sort shit out in my head. That's why I was on the road. I'm angry about what was going down at school. I don't know why or who was stirring shit. That's what hurt the most. You got caught up in the middle. That's all. You had nothing to do with it. You gotta believe that." Keith slid his hand over mine and squeezed it. It was warm and the touch of his skin on mine was electric. Leaning into me, he rested his head on my good shoulder whispering "Sorry Zeb" over and over again. Carefully, because it hurt, I placed my bad arm around his back. Pressing my cheek against his I whispered, "All I care about, all that matters, is now. You're here and I'm so happy. You saved my life. Again. I heard you that day. I swear it. It was you who whispered to me. Thank you. That made all the difference. I knew no matter what, I'd be all right. So don't ever beat yourself up about this. We've gotta be alright, that's all that matters." His sobs were slowing, thank God. It broke my heart to see him hurt and blaming himself. "I don't know what to do Zebby. How do I fix us?" "You don't. We fix us. Look, you've started already," and lifting the cover, I showed him the one bone that was definitely not broken. Through his tears he giggled. "Shit Zebby, nothin keeps you down, does it." "I told you Bonerboy, just the sight of you does this. But seriously," and I was serious, "Thank God you have. The doctor said my broken hip might cause problems down here. Guess he doesn't need to worry eh?" I smirked Keith gave a quick look around. The curtains were partially shielding my bed and there was only one other patient in the room, in the opposite corner. "Well Zebby, best you let doctor check it's functioning, eh?' And sliding his hand under the cover, he softly wrapped his fingers around my steel. OMG what a feeling. It had been so long since he'd touched me and nearly as long since I'd had any kind of release. The smell of Keith, the warmth of his hand on my dick, his soft lips on mine, and about five strokes were all that was needed. I produced an enormous load of cum. And honestly, I nearly fainted. The monitor went nuts. Big spiky lines bouncing up and down and lots of them! I'll never need a defibrillator when Keith's around. That's when we shit ourselves. How were we to clean it up? Keith grabbed the box of tissues and we nearly emptied them wiping me up. But the tissues stuck to me, so wet hand towels were next. By the time we'd finished, the waste bin was stuffed with the used, wet tissues. I've always got a thrill out of sex in semi public places, but maybe a hospital bed is s little too public! We'd only just cleaned it up, when the nurse came in. The first thing she looks at is the monitor. My heart rate is up. She looks at me, comments on my flushed face and heart rate and goes into overdrive checking me out. I catch Keith's eye and he's ashen faced. I know what's on his mind, I can smell it. That unmistakable swimming pool aroma. Cum! That's when Greg comes back. He doesn't miss a thing. He looks at me, looks at Keith, looks back at me, notices the bin full of tissues and laughs. The nurse is still fussing around taking my temperature and pulse, records it and asks me how I'm feeling. She tells me not to get over excited and if I'm feeling tired my visitors should go. I assure her it's Ok and I want them to stay. She's not to sure, but eventually accepts what I say and leaves. My sexual flush turns to burning embarrassment mimicking Keith's face. Greg knows exactly what's going on. He smiles and simply says, "Hope you boys have made up." Had we? I wasn't totally sure we were back on track. There was still a lot of stuff Keith and I had to sort. The comment about feeling normal worried me, as did him feeling guilty. I had to convince Keith he wasn't the cause. But all that would have to wait till later. Right now, I was with two people I loved and that was all that mattered.