get the complete book here! {Or here (US)}
 
 
*Chapter 28*

Recovery

 
 
I’m not a good patient, the impatient patient, that’s me. Remember when I was a boy, thought I was a boy, I’d wear a skirt over my injuries just so I could get out and about – how many boys would do that? Most kids would be playing the woe is me card for all it’s worth not making embarrassing clothing choices to avoid resting up.

The effects of the meds – in terms of dulling the pain and making me a bit dopey, had faded somewhat by the time I woke a little after eight Sunday morning. I was a bit disorientated, I missed most of yesterday and it took a minute or two to get my thoughts in order.

“Good morning, Gaby,” a bright voice cut through the fug in my head.

“Er yeah,” I managed as I tried to scoot into a more upright position.

“Hang on a sec, I’ll tilt the bed.”

My carer, Giselle according to her nametag, wound the top of the bed up before helping me to a more upright position.

“Better?”

“Uh huh.”

“Frühstuck will be coming soon, the doctor will be checking on you before lunch okay.”

“When can I get up?”

“Not this morning, missy, bed rest today, you’ve had surgery, you don’t want to ruin the surgeons work, eh?”

“I guess not.”

She made sure the buzzer was at hand, “Use this if you need anything.”

“Sure, thanks.”

The pain, well it was more of an incessant ache, was a constant reminder of yesterday’s butchery, I could feel the dressing but I was still largely numb in the affected area. I might not have wanted the surgery but I was impatient to see my ‘new’ bits – I have seen what girls have, what I now have, but it’s different when it’s your own. Of course I couldn’t even feel past the mass of padded dressings so I guess I’ll have to wait.

Breakfast arrived, apparently I’m allowed food and even coffee today not that the single cup slaked that thirst. The food was of the meat, cheese and bread roll variety, entirely eatable but after best part of forty-eight hours without eating it did little to assuage my hunger. Still it’s not like I can go raid the kitchens for more, I’ll just have to put up with it until lunch – whenever that is.

Giselle and another woman came around and I suffered the indignity of a bed bath before being left to occupy myself until the doctor’s rounds. Well I had Herr Boltt’s homework to finish, nothing else doing so I set to with slightly more enthusiasm than I’d attached to the surgery.

 
 
“So, fraulein Bond, how are we feeling today?” Dr Fischer enquired.

Morning rounds? It was close enough to noon that it would be afternoon before he finished with me.

“Sore,” I allowed.

“Any nausea, cramps?”

My stomach chose that moment to rumble quite loudly.

“Apart from being hungry, no.”

“Well let’s have a look then, nurse, if you can do the screens.”

Look it’s all a bit personal so no I’m not giving a blow by blow account, suffice to say I was poked and prodded before the wound was re-dressed. Everything was doing as expected and providing things continue as they are I’ll get the nod to go home about teatime. From what I could see, apart from being swollen I look quite normal – for a girl, apparently they were doing tests to make sure the potentially cancerous stuff is benign – after our scare with Mum I take that possibility very seriously.
 
 

Lunch was thankfully delivered at one, chicken, potatoes and steamed veggies – very healthy and I did at least feel a little less hungry. Of course the main reason for the earlyish midday food was to get everything cleared before visiting starts at two. I returned to writing the synopsis thing, no point in wasting my enforced bed rest, it’s either doing it now or later.

The families of the two biddies arrived within minutes of the clock passing two, and a lad who I’m guessing to be the girl’s boyfriend turned up not long after. Typical, everyone else has visitors bar Bond! Oh well, it’s not like I’m going anywhere – at least not yet.

In fact it was nearly three before Mum, Dad and Manda found their way to my corner of the ward.

“Well you look better,” Mum advised.

“I don’t feel it, thought you weren’t coming.”

“Erm my fault,” Mand offered, “I er got lost training.”

“Had to rescue her from Mayen,” Dad put in.

“Mayen? How’d you end up there?”

“I went up to that Nurburg place but I must’ve missed a turn, I thought it looked familiar but then it didn’t.”

“But you kept going?”

“I thought I’d see a sign,” she defended.

“So what did the doc have to say this morning?” Mum interrupted.

“Not a lot, I should get out of here later.”

“We’ll see,” mater noted, ”we don’t want any complications do we?”

“Anyone want a drink?” Dad asked.

“Can I get a Sprite or something?”

“Sprite, Mand?”

“Same please.”

“I’ll come with you, Dave, see if we can get a word with the doctor.”

 
 
“Welcome to the sisterhood,” Mand chortled.

“It’s not like I had much choice,” I observed.

“Who does?”

“The Doc says there are loads of people who don’t identify with the sex they are born.”

“Wearing a dress doesn’t make you a girl, that’s chromosomes, you can’t change them.”

“Worst luck,” I lamented, “know where I can get a Y?”

“You are so funny, Gab.”

“Yeah, so Mayen?”

 
 
It wasn’t Dr Fischer who checked me out after visiting was over but a woman, Dr Schindler.

“So, young lady, the swelling is going very quickly.”

“I heal quite quickly,” I suggested.

“Your mother said so earlier. Even so we have to be very careful to avoid infection, you will need to be fastidious in cleanliness until the stitches are gone.”

“But I can go home?”

“You will need the bag for a couple of days but yes you can go home.”

The bag is a bummer but I sort of get the why.”

“Great!”

“I’ll get one of the nurses to show you how to sort the bag out at home and of course you’ll need to dilate regularly too.”

“Dilate?”

“Dr Fischer mentioned it for sure, you need to keep your passage open so we don’t have to repeat this business eh.”

“So I have to er put something inside?”

“We’ll send you home with a set of stents, you’ll need to do it three times a day.”

Oh joy, I didn’t want this in the first place and now I have to – who the hell would want this?
 
 

The rents returned to collect me just before six so I missed the cauliflower cheese that my roommates were served for dinner. I didn’t leave light handed of course, painkillers, birth control, replacement leg bags and those flippin’ stents. The Doc had removed what seemed like tons of packing, the replacement dressing was much lighter and as my own knickers are a little erm, brief I got to wear some disposable granny pants to go home.

“What’s for dinner?” I enquired once I’d made my escape and made the gingerly walk to the car.

“Not sure,” Mum told me, “thought we’d stop off on the way back somewhere.”

“Kay.”

Getting in the car was a trial, it was like every move pulled something down below, I ended up sitting on the seat before scooting across the car to get my legs inside. Talk about a faff. We took the old road out of Remagen but to be honest, it was almost dark and there’s not a lot to see so I wasn’t taking much notice of where we were going.

In fact I dropped off for a minute or two, waking as we swung off and across the railway line.

“Where we going?”

“Here,” Dad advised.
 
 

 
 
 
 
‘Here’ was the property inhabited by the Pinger’s. Dad helped me out of the car so that I could waddle to the house.

“Hi guys!” Kat greeted us a minute later.

“Heya.”

“We’re in the lounge!” Maria called out from inside.

Of course we are hardly strangers here, Henryck’s summer barbeques, meals after training, even before we moved to Dernau we’d been here.

“Here she is,” Maria stated when I followed the olds through.

“They couldn’t keep her,” Mum joked.

“So everything is fixed?” Kat enquired following us through.

“Er yeah,” I allowed.

I hadn’t really thought about it but I was a little surprised to find not only Mand but also Anita in the Pinger’s lounge.

“Hi, Gabs,” Mand offered.

“So, Wunderkind, we are all fixed, eh?”

Geez they make it sound like one of the Preiser’s horses.

“Hopefully,” I put forward in answer to the multitude of questions regarding my health.

“Sit yourself down kiddo,” Mum instructed.

I eyed the Pinger’s very comfortable but low leather seating, if I get down there, I’ll never get back up, well not in a dignified manner anyhow.

“Think I’ll stand for now, I’ve been in bed for two days.”

Well not strictly bed for all that but laid down at any rate.

 
 
Henryck was in charge of the food as usual at the Pinger’s, it’s not that Maria can’t cook but her significant other does it better. When we adjourned to the dining room it was to a veritable feast of fried potato, sauerkraut with peppered steak. Now we’re talking – after the pigeon portion of lunch at the Frauenklinik this is something to get my teeth into and sink my hunger.

Used to feeding hungry cyclists, there was plenty on the plates and a reserve dish of the vegetable elements – not that I needed that – well okay I had extra Bratkartoffeln. Main course eaten the conversation turned to the inevitable cycling related stuff, gossip about some new team starting in Blighty, how Anita was faring in the early season cross races then Japan. They say time flies when you’re having fun and it seemed no time at all before Dad suggested it was time to leave – it was only ten thirty – shitza!
 
 

“How you doing, spud?” Dad enquired after I’d extracted myself from the car at Bond acres.

“I didn’t think you could hurt inside like this.”

“It won’t be forever.”

I flippin’ hope not!

“Yeah,” I agreed.

 
 
Of course before I could hit the sack I had to practice changing my wee bag and even worse stick a lump of plastic in my new opening and waggle it about. Bum, I didn’t ring Con, I grabbed my handy and sent a quick text:

‘Back hm c u 2moro ++Gab’

Maddy Bell 17.12.15