Good Days Bad Days

Together

Jayne's days soon became a familiar pattern of get up, struggle to do things and then go back to bed. This was often joined with going out to do things like shopping and seeing friends. Most of her friends however found it hard to adjust to her new predicament and treat her differently or outright ignored her.

She tried not to show anyone how much this upset her but she would go home and throw something at a wall. She tried not to do this while Ricky was home as she didn't even want him to see how hurt she was but sometimes she couldn't keep it in.

Some days things would get to her so much that the simplest thing would make her cry. One day Ricky had taken her out for lunch at a cosy restaurant to cheer her up when the small mistake of dropping her fork had sent her over the edge.

"Oh for god's sake!" she grumbled and put her head in her hands.

"It's ok. We can get another fork." he said softly.

After asking the waiter for a clean fork he noticed she was crying.

"It's not that bad. It's just a bit of cutlery." he said, patting her knee, forgetting that she wouldn't feel it.

"I can't do anything right." she said in a small voice. "My friends hate me, strangers stare at me and I can't even do little things like have a bath any more. It's been months since I even went to the toilet like I used to! And I'm a rubbish girlfriend to you."

"You're not rubbish." he sighed.

"But I'm not the best." she grumbled.

"That's not what I mean." he dismissed.

"We don't do any of that romantic stuff together. I treat you like more of a carer than a boyfriend cose you just push my chair and help me in and out of it. I'm so boring. I'm just that crazy broken lady who's stopping you from getting laid with sexy blonde girls." she said.

"Stop it." he told her. "For a start sexy blonde girls have never been my type. You're my type. You're funny, you're clever, you're sexy. I like looking after you. It makes me feel manly to be looking after someone I care about. Someone I love."

"Aren't you bored of only having a kiss on the sofa?" she asked. "I'm not even sure how to have sex like this. I probably won't feel anything."

"I'm not worried about the physical stuff. I'm crazy about you no matter what we're doing." he smiled.

"What have I done to deserve such a lovely man. You're too good for me." she smiled weakly.

"Nah!" he laughed. "On a much brighter note, do you want to come to one of our shows?"

"Yeah!" she grinned, glad to have a lighter conversation. "When?"

"Whenever you like." he smiled. "The guys want to meet you. They've been hearing about you for months."

"It'll do me good to get out of the house to meet some positive people." she nodded. "Wait, do they know about the accident."

"I've told them a bit. They know you use a wheelchair since an accident but I didn't think I should tell them everything. I didn't tell them that you had amnesia. I tell them stuff about you being beautiful on the inside and outside." he replied.

"You smug git!" she laughed. "What are you after?"

"Nothing." he smiled.

A few days later they were cuddled together on the sofa. It was quite a good day for Jayne in that she hadn't felt too depressed. They were watching a cheesy film with a weak story line when Jayne felt a blinding pain in her stomach. It was a bit like really bad period pain except she was on the pill to stop her periods. This was the first feeling she'd had below her ribs in months but she she couldn't be happy about this feeling.

"Oh god!" she gasped. "It hurts!"

"What hurts?" Ricky asked.

"Something like period pain but worse." she gasped.

"I'm going to take you to hospital." he said as he scooped her up off the sofa and carried her to her wheelchair. "I'm not taking chances."

On the way to the hospital she gripped the car seat and dug her fingers into the leather in hope it would somehow ease the pain. It didn't.

At the hospital they sat in the waiting room of A&E for much too long. Ricky fidgeted anxiously while Jayne sat in her wheelchair hunched over in pain. It was relatively quiet considering it was a big hospital in London. Occasionally Ricky would get up to pace up and down or grumble complaints to the lady behind the desk. When they were eventually called through Ricky helped Jayne onto the bed where she would be examined and have tests.

After many tests and a scan in a loud machine the doctors and nurses seemed to have a diagnosis. Jayne lay on the bed in just a hospital gown and both her's and Ricky's coats over her as blankets. Her legs laid skinny and lifeless on the squeaky plastic covered padding that was cold against her back in the open back of the gown.

A stressed looking man in medical scrubs came in and muttered a bit before giving the diagnosis. Jayne had a large blood clot in her uterus that would have to be removed with surgery. Although she was no stranger to hospitals and surgery she was nervous about having such an intimate operation.

Preperations were made and she was moved to a ward to wait. Ricky followed sheepishly as a porter pushed Jayne's wheelchair through the corridors. He stood back while nurses got her ready for the operation and asked questions. Just before she was taken away on a bed he was allowed to lean in and give her a kiss.

"I love you." he said quietly.

"Love you too." Jayne replied sleepily before the anaesthetic took over.