Emergency Medical Dad

XXXIV: present, peter's wedding day

JORGEN

My arm rests too heavily across Jessie's shoulders. I feel awful about it. She's tiny compared to me, weighs at least a hundred pounds less, a foot smaller and then some, but I can't walk right. Every step shoots straight up into my spine, sore muscles, exhausted body, I've got it all. My leg wants to give out under me and if I can't get most of my torso's weight onto something else then I'll collapse.

She's helping me get outside, to the parking lot. We decided that it'll be a better idea to just wait out the rest of the ceremony than to go back in looking like a scene out of a war movie.

I pop the hatchback on the old car as we approach, letting Jess set me down just inside of the back, both of us letting out a sigh of relief.

"You're too small to take me like that," I wince. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not small, you're just big," she sits next to me. "Do... you have anything you want to change into to get the leg off... or?"

I give her a gentle smile, "if you don't mind, there's a bag in the back seat on the other side of Connor's seat that has clothes in it for after shifts, I haven't taken it out. There should be shorts in it because I don't really like wearing shorts. That would be the best thing to do now."

She nods, hopping back up again, yellow sundress a little ruffled but looking perfect anyway.

While she's gone I shrug off my suit coat, leaving just the black collared shirt. I drape it over the seats and leave it there.

"Here," she hands me just the black gym shorts, already closing her eyes and facing away.

"S'alright," I tease, leaning forward to poke her hip before taking the shorts. "I do wear underwear."

"Mhmm," she's still facing away, stiffly staring up at the back of the church.

I drop my slacks as quick as I can, shifting and pulling up the shorts, more than relieved to sit down again.

"You're good."

She turns back around just in time to see my fingers digging into the top of my thigh, pushing the socket down and away from my body.

While she didn't watch me change, she's definitely mesmerized by the process of taking my leg off, watching me turn and set it behind me, then roll the silicon wrap off, leaving just pale skin under it, a warped tattoo cutting off at the scar. I'm quick to pull my shorts back down as far as I can.

Jessie decides after a moment or two that the silence is awkward and sits next to me instead, "what does it feel like?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your leg," she's flushed pink.

I breathe out, settling down on my elbows in the back of the car, "feels like a... limb. Somewhat. It's there and it's not. Sometimes I can feel it- the nerves in it- but I can't ever feel..." I close my eyes. "There's feelings that I can get, especially when I'm anxious, in the limb that's not there, but it's all bad."

"Why?"

"Anxiety trickles into a nervous system issue with me," I shrug. "I always felt... different, weird, off, during panic attacks. I always get chest pangs and stuff like that but when I lost the leg, going into an anxiety attack meant my body would do a scan for something wrong, always, and it just... picks up on it again. A huge red flag. Oh no, this is gone, why is it gone, where's the pain, what's the pain? And it'll... the nerves that are severed, they'll unleash hell in my body and it'll go straight to my spine and I'll get like that until I can get myself calm or until I'm so focused on the pain I stop with the anxiety."