Laurels Literary Magazine Fall 2015 | Page 69

thirty minutes the entire night. I was relieved when the sun blinked through the window and take my place. The doctor would be in soon and we’d learn if he could go back home. He’d be more comfortable at home, even if we weren’t. Despite the torture chair, nurses were available for those frightful moments we had no training or understanding to face. There was an emergency backstop if we hit a spot we couldn’t handle. He clutched the bed rail, still, and leaned his head against the shiny bars. The bed was angled up how he liked it, but with the way his thinned body slid down balling up at its crook and his contortion against the railing with the disheveled sheets piled at his feet, he looked a wreck. “Lewis, do you want to try and turn over? Do you want to try and roll over?” I asked. beat this decision upon him, “I guess so.” He turned his torso and wrapped his arms around my neck. There was surprising strength in those arms, and he pulled hard. There was no strength in his legs, however, and I couldn’t get his hips to follow through. I stopped the effort, rethinking how to go about it. “Let’s try again,” I said and positioned pillows at the ready to wedge him over as he turned. It was a remarkable effort on his part, and he was too tired to object. He pulled, substantially weaker this time, and I jammed the pillows at his back and beneath his hips. It wasn’t enough, and for all his frailty, I was unable to simply roll his weight over by myself. He collapsed amidst the pillow backing, spent. “Let’s take a break,” I said. “Rest a bit, and we’ll try to get you the rest of the way.” pillows and unable to clutch his railing. A cough perked up, strong and deep from the bowels of his lungs. “We’ll take a break for a second,” I repeated and sat back down in the torture chair. I was beat myself. The sun shone brightly in the room, its beams 57