Machine Man - Max Barry [23]
A NURSE came and fiddled with something beside my bed. She was large and beautiful. I remembered her as Katie. Hello, I tried to say. I was happy to see her again and wanted her to know. My hand flopped against her dress. She turned to me and folded her arms. “Yes?” Her eyes flicked over me without feeling. Finally she turned back to my bedside table and slid the drawer home with an aggressive thunk. I didn’t know what I had done to Nurse Katie but apparently it was something pretty bad.
WHEN I was less drugged, I pulled aside the sheet to inspect the damage. I thought it wouldn’t be so terrible the second time around but it was. Before, I had been able to see the space where my leg should be. I had been a man missing a leg. Now I was a creature that ended at the thighs. A different life-form. I was small. I closed my eyes and cried because it was suddenly obvious that I had been very stupid.
BUT LATER I remembered I wasn’t legless. I had legs. I just wasn’t wearing them. They were state-of-the-art and I had built them myself. They were already more functional than my biological legs and soon they would be even better. It was easier to keep this in mind if I avoided looking at my stumps. Everything would be fine once I got my new legs, I told myself. This wasn’t loss. It was transition.
NURSE KATIE came back. It was dark outside. The hospital was quiet except for the squeaky shoes of nurses. I was groggy but not so much that I didn’t know my phone was missing. Last time they had brought my personal effects with me. But now nothing. I was thirsty for internet. I itched for something with a processor.
Nurse Katie inspected my drips wordlessly, even though I was lying there, looking at her. “Hi,” I said.
“Hello.”
“Have you seen my phone?”
Katie set her wrists on her hips. “Your phone?”
“It was in my shirt pocket. I can’t see any of my clothes in here.”
“You can’t have your clothes.”
I hesitated, because this wasn’t an answer. “Do you know where they are?”
“Yes, and you can’t have them.”
I tried again. “I don’t need my clothes. I need my phone. Can you see if my phone is in the pocket?”
“No.” Katie circled the bed and lifted my sheet. I couldn’t see what she was doing but she had to be checking my catheters. I had two: a urinary catheter and a bowel catheter. Nobody had explained this to me. I had figured it out myself, when the pressure to relieve myself had become too great. It was a relief in every sense. You would think a bowel catheter would be disgusting but it had major functional advantages over a bathroom visit. Everything was sealed and sanitary. When you thought about it, it was the regular system that was foul.
“Can you tell me why you can’t give me my phone?”
Katie dropped my sheet. “Because you’re on suicide watch.”
I was too surprised to respond. She turned and squeaked away down the corridor.
SO THAT explained where my underpants had gone. But it didn’t tell me why everyone was angry. It wasn’t just Katie. When Nurse Mike bathed me, he was subdued and noncommittal and made no jokes. Nurse Veronica let my dinner tray clatter onto my table trolley. I was too intimidated to pursue my phone. Instead I lay in bed watching TV with the sound down, so as not to annoy anybody.
MY SURGEON visited: Dr. Angelica Austin, with the frizzy hair and impatient manner. “So you’re back.” She rolled aside my sheet without asking. Her fingers pressed. I couldn’t feel them at all. She could have been tenderizing steaks. “Healing well.” She sounded regretful.
I looked down. The difference between my stumps was kind of amazing. I hadn’t thought the right was healing much but compared with the new one it was rosy with health. The other was puffy, shiny, and stuffed with tubes. It would take a lot of time before I could get that into a prosthetic without screaming. Or a lot of drugs.
“I suppose there’s no need to discuss the