Page 45 of Warrior's Walk
“Can you grab my pills from the kitchen while you’re in there? And maybe an extra handful of ice? I’ve got a few other spots I need to cool down.”
Despite the gravity of the situation, I laugh at his joke, knowing he’s serious. He just never quits, even when all seems lost. In the kitchen, I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and randomly open a few cabinets, looking for the one that holds his meds. I find it above the stove. The label saysPercocet, to be taken with food, may cause drowsiness, and don’t operate machinery while under the influence. Ducking into the hall bathroom, I flush them down the toilet. In the kitchen, I reach for the bottle ofIbuprofeninstead.
These pills are addictive as hell. I’ve seen it time and again with so many of the veterans who come through the doors at BALLS seeking help. Hell, I saw it with some of the guys I actively served with. It was a damn near daily occurrence at Womack. I’m not gonna let it happen tomy… not tomypatient.
He’s not your patient.
Like fucking hell he’s not.
Closing the cabinet, I search through the drawers for a plastic bag I can fill with ice. Then I grab the water bottle and head back to his room. Rhett is lying exactly where I left him. “Are thosePercocetall you’re taking for the pain?”
“Yeah, the doctor at Womack prescribed them to me.”
“Well, you’re finished with them. No more.” I hand him four ibuprofen and the bottle of water.
“What do you mean, no more? My fuckin’ leg hurts.”
“As it should, you shattered it. Ibuprofen will do just fine.”
“Says who?”
“Says me.”
“You’re a doctor now?”
In all my years in the medical field, I’ve never once encountered a situation where a patient acted magnanimously or gratefully when you took away their drugs. “Well, you called me doc when we met,” I tease.
“It was a formality. I didn’t know your name.”
Leaning down over his body, I get right up in his face. “I don’t care what the fuck it was, I told you that you’re done with the painkillers. Your leg is supposed to hurt; it reminds you to take it easy, but not too easy.”
Rhett snorts. “That makes no sense.”
“It makes perfect sense. The pain tells you where your limit is, how far you can push yourself.”
“So when it starts hurtin’, I can stop?”
“That’s not what I said. I’m telling you when it hurts, slow down, but don’t stop. You can always go a little bit further than you think you can. If it’s not hurting, you’re not doing it right.”
He curses under his breath and then sighs with defeat. “You can be a real prick sometimes.”
“Don’t I know it,” I laugh. Plopping down beside him, I place the bag of ice over his knee.
“I’m drownin’, Riggs. It’s not supposed to feel like this. I’m doin’ everything I’m supposed to, everything you tell me to do, but I’m still drownin’. If it doesn’t get better than this, what is even the point of continuing to fight when all I wanna do is give up?”
Genuine fear grips my heart. I want to tell him it gets better, to hang in there, but that would be a lie. Just because it got better for me doesn’t mean it’s going to for him. “You can’tgive up, not yet. Just keep fighting, one day at a time. For me. Promise?”
“For you? Yeah. ’Cause I owe you for savin’ my life.”
I’m not going to debate it with him if that’s what gets him to hang on.
“Give me somethin’ real, Riggs. Not that motivational bullshit. Tell me you know what it feels like, that you know what I’m going through. Tell me you understand the pain I’m drowning in. The way I feel almost numb from it.”
“I know exactly what you’re feeling.”
“Prove it. What was the name of the person you lost?”
Our voices are nothing but a whisper in the silent room, blanketed by the still of the night. Outside the window, still open to the evening breeze, I can hear the chirping crickets in the trees. With the exception of Brewer, I’ve never told anyone what I’m about to tell him.