A Farewell to Arms - Ernest Hemingway [29]
When I woke I looked around. There was sunlight coming in through the shutters. I saw the big armoire, the bare walls, and two chairs. My legs in the dirty bandages, stuck straight out in the bed. I was careful not to move them. I was thirsty and I reached for the bell and pushed the button. I heard the door open and looked and it was a nurse. She looked young and pretty.
"Good-morning," I said.
"Good-morning," she said and came over to the bed. "We haven't been able to get the doctor. He's gone to Lake Como. No one knew there was a patient coming. What's wrong with you anyway?"
"I'm wounded. In the legs and feet and my head is hurt."
"What's your name?"
"Henry. Frederic Henry."
"I'll wash you up. But we can't do anything to the dressings until the doctor comes."
"Is Miss Barkley here?"
"No. There's no one by that name here."
"Who was the woman who cried when I came in?"
The nurse laughed. "That's Mrs. Walker. She was on night duty and she'd been asleep. She wasn't expecting any one."
While we were talking she was undressing me, and when I was undressed, except for the bandages, she washed me, very gently and smoothly. The washing felt very good. There was a bandage on my head but she washed all around the edge.
"Where were you wounded?"
"On the Isonze north of Plava."
"Where is that?"
"North of Gorizia."
I could see that none of the places meant anything to her.
"Do you have a lot of pain?"
"No. Not much now."
She put a thermometer in my mouth.
"The Italians put it under the arm," I said.
"Don't talk."
When she took the thermometer out she read it and then shook it.
"What's the temperature?"
"You're not supposed to know that."
"Tell me what it is."
"It's almost normal."
"I never have any fever. My legs are full of old iron too."
"What do you mean?"
"They're full of trench-mortar fragments, old screws and bedsprings and things."
She shook her head and smiled.
"If you had any foreign bodies in your legs they would set up an inflammation and you'd have fever."
"All right," I said. "We'll see what comes out."
She went out of the room and came back with the old nurse of the early morning. Together they made the bed with me in it. That was new to me and an admirable proceeding.
"Who is in charge here?"
"Miss Van Campen."
"How many nurses are there?"
"Just us two."
"Won't there be more?"
"Some more are coming."
"When will they get here?"
"I don't know. You ask a great many questions for a sick boy."
"I'm not sick," I said. "I'm wounded."
They had finished making the bed and I lay with a clean smooth sheet under me and another sheet over me. Mrs. Walker went out and came back with a pajama jacket. They put that on me and I felt very clean and dressed.
"You're awfully nice to me," I said. The nurse called Miss Gage giggled. "Could I have a drink of water?" I asked.
"Certainly. Then you can have breakfast."
"I don't want breakfast. Can I have the shutters opened please?"
The light had been dim in the room and when the shutters were opened it was bright sunlight and I looked out on a balcony and beyond were the tile roofs of houses and chimneys. I looked out over the tiled roofs and saw white clouds and the sky very blue.
"Don't you know when the other nurses are coming?"
"Why? Don't we take good care of you?"
"You're very nice."
"Would you like to use the bedpan?"
"I might try."
They helped me and held me up but it was not any use. Afterward I lay and looked out the open doors onto the balcony.
"When does the doctor come?"
"When he gets back. We've tried to telephone to Lake Como for him."
"Aren't there any other doctors?"
"He's the doctor for the hospital."
Miss Gage brought a pitcher of water and a glass. I drank three glasses and then they left me and I looked out the window a while and went back