“How’s that?” she asked as she set me back down.

The ache in my head was suddenly gone. “Better.”

“What else can I do?”

When I didn’t answer, she began pressing the buttons on the bed, lifting my upper body a few inches, doing the same to the bottom so my legs were now raised a little higher.

“This position will take some of the pressure off your lower back.”

The difference was small but enough to notice.

“You’re absolutely miserable, aren’t you?”

I sighed, the pain only allowing me to release so much. “You have no fucking idea.” The reminder was there again when I inhaled, stabbing me with a kitchen full of knives. “I can’t take this anymore.” I hugged my hands around my thigh, hoping the pressure would alleviate some of the electricity. “They’ll pump me with meds, allowing me to pass out, but then I’m awake less than an hour later, the gnawing even more intense than before. You have to do something. I’m losing my fucking mind here.”

She pulled something out of her pocket and held it up to her ear. “Hey, it’s Whitney. Can you please let Rebecca know I’m helping her patient in room 614 and then tell my CNA to please check on mine? Thank you.”

The phone went back in her pocket, and then her hand was on mine. “Just give me a few seconds. I promise I’m going to make you feel better.”

She was quickly moving around, grabbing things off the counter before she disappeared into the bathroom. The doorway lit up when she flipped on the light, the sound of water filling the quietness. When she returned, she placed a basin on the table next to me.

“Unless that’s filled with something that’s going to numb me, you might as well stop now. I don’t give a shit if I smell.”

She dropped a washcloth into the water. “You’re going to have to trust me. Can you do that?”

My jaw tightened, my nostrils flaring as I exhaled; these excruciating sensations made me the angriest son of a bitch.

“I’ll take silence over telling me to fuck off,” she said, and she began to peel the covering down my body, removing it from the bed and placing it on the chair.

The cold air made me clench, the gown doing very little to keep me warm. Soon, that was off, too, along with my compression socks, leaving me naked, aside from the towel over my groin. She took the washcloth out of the basin and pressed it against my forehead. The warm, soapy water dripped down my face while her hand circled over each cheek.

“Take a big breath for me,” she said, the cloth now on my throat, slowly lowering to my chest.

The softness in her voice was why I filled my lungs.