Chapter 11

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The man wheeled Ben to a bed with the number three on it.  He helped him on the bed and moved the wheelchair to the side.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Ben shook his head.

"Sergeant Grayson."

Ben shot his head up and looked at the man.  He hadn't been called that for years.  He must have seen it on his records since he did not recognize the man. 

"It will be okay.  Just remember that," he said sincerely with a small smile.

"Thank you," said Ben as he outstretched his hand. 

"No problem, Brother," he responded as he shook Ben's hand.

Ben watched him leave and wished silently he was his provider.  Just then, a man with a white coat walked in.


"Yes, sir."

"It looks like you are here for some pain in your leg."

"And, I can't put any weight on it."

The doctor sat down on a backless round chair and rolled over to him.

"Tell me what kind of pain you are having."

"Well, it's sharp and it throbs.  It seems to be radiating too."

"Where does it radiate?" he asked as he examined his leg with his eyes.

Ben suddenly felt very subconscious of his mutilated leg.

"It radiates up to my thigh and down to my foot."

The doctor picked up his leg gingerly then took a hammer to check his reflexes.  His foot responded very little to the hammer.  The doctor sat back and put his fists on his hips, still looking at his leg.

"You've had problems like this before?"

"Not for a long time." responded Ben. 

"I think you are having a flare up.  Many of your muscles are gone along with everything in between in seems.  How far does it go up your leg."

Ben pulled back his shorts to show the bits of flesh missing from shrapnel.  The angry white and pink scars stared at him.  Ben turned his head to look at the wall. 

"Do you have any other injuries?"

"TBI.  Back problems.  One ear is blown out."

"Any other symptoms?"

"Tingling in my foot."

The doctor examined him for one more moment the stood up. 

"Yes, I think this is just a flare up.  It's inflamed most likely.  Go buy some Motrin at the drug store."

Ben turned back to the doctor and looked at his serious face.

"You're serious?  Go to the drug store and buy Motrin?"

"Well, this is not serious.  So, yes, that's what I'm saying."

Ben felt red hot rage envelope him.

"Not fucking serious???  Are you kidding me?  Half of my fucking leg is missing!!!"

"It's been that way for a long time.  I'm not sure if you are feeling it as bad as you think you are.  But, some anti-inflammatory at the drug store should do the trick."

"So, let me get this straight, you want me to go buy fucking pain medicine at a drug store?  I've been dealing with this pain for years and now I can't seem to walk on my leg.  This is your fucking solution???  You can't order imaging, medication, or anything.  It's all on me to go to the fucking drug store and that is suddenly going to cure this fucking mess?" yelled Ben as he motioned to his leg.

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