Chapter 4: Chapter 4
Dr Reed cleans uP Ryan and places a foley catheter and a nasal gastric tube. She procedes to dress him in a green vinyl jumpsuit that zips in the back with magnetic locks. She procedes to transfer Ryan to his new wheel chair and fasten the chest, arm, and leg straps
"What the hell just happened here?" Dr. Reed's voice slices through the sterile air like a blade. Her eyes dart from George to the mess on the bed, taking in the soiled sheets, the discarded diaper, and the smell that still lingers. She wrinkles her nose in disgust. "Someone clean this up. Now."
George tries to shrink back, to hide under the blanket, but his borrowed body is still a mess, the diaper a soggy, humiliating reminder of what just transpired. He can feel the heat in his face, the embarrassment and revulsion churning in his gut.
Dr. Reed turns her attention back to Ryan, her brow furrowed in thought. She checks his vitals, her hands moving efficiently over his body, checking his pulse, his temperature.
"Get him cleaned up," she orders to the nurse who had appeared at her side.
A young nurse, face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and disbelief, steps forward, pulling a fresh diaper and a pack of wipes from the nearby cart. "Dr. Reed, I... I don't know what to do. He's... he's messed himself."
Dr. Reed's expression darkens, her voice crisp and sharp. "Figure it out. It's not like you've never seen shit before. And while you're at it, clean him up. All of him." She turns her attention back to Ryan, her eyes scanning his body, assessing the damage.
George, still hidden beneath the blanket, tries to distance himself from the scene unfolding before him.
The nurse, her cheeks bright red, struggles with Ryan’s diaper. She tugs at the soiled garment, her fingers slipping on the damp fabric. Her breath comes in short, embarrassed gasps, the reality of the situation clearly overwhelming her. She’s not prepared for this, not trained for this kind of intimate, humiliating task. She tries again, her grip tightening, but the diaper remains stubbornly in place, clinging to Ryan’s legs like a second skin.
Dr. Reed watches the struggle, her expression growing more impatient with each passing second. "For God’s sake, get him cleaned up," she snaps, her voice echoing in the sterile ward. The nurse flinches at the reprimand, her hands still fumbling with the diaper.
George watches from under the blanket, a mix of revulsion and pity churning in his gut.
The nurse, her cheeks a bright shade of red, struggles with Ryan's diaper, her fingers slipping on the damp fabric. The sight is intimate, humiliating, a stark contrast to the sterile, antiseptic environment of the ward. The nurse's breath comes in short, embarrassed gasps, her eyes darting nervously between Ryan's body and Dr. Reed's impatient gaze. Her inexperience is painfully obvious, her hands trembling as she tries to grasp the soiled diaper. She tugs at it, her grip tightening, but the diaper remains stubbornly in place, clinging to Ryan's legs like a second skin. The nurse's face contorts with effort, her embarrassment now tinged with a growing panic. "I can't get it off," she admits, her voice a choked whisper.