Pain (Part three)

So, the first two parts are previously published posts, on other platforms.
This one will be posted here first.

When we last left off, I had been all busted up, in the car crash. The biggest injury was the broken pelvis, but my face was covered in road rash too. Plus, there were little shards of glass dug in, all over me. I was tore up, from the floor up. LOL.
My first three nights were in the special Intensive Care unit, at John C, Lincoln Hospital. Not much that I can tell you about those days. They kept me in a drug induced coma.
I am told that that was to keep me immobilized. My pelvis was being allowed to set.
During those first three days, they woke me up once. They wanted to turn me on my side, to keep me from getting bed sores. The nurse said that she needed my help, to turn me.
She told me to grab the rail, on the left side of my bed, and pull my shoulders up, to be on my left side.
She said, "Pull your upper body, while I turn your hips."
I said, "OK."
She said, "On the count of three. One. Two. Three..."
I pulled and she lifted. I rolled up on my side. There was a huge pop. I can't tell you if it was actually audible, or if I just felt it so loud that I heard it. A scream flew out of my mouth. I couldn't control it.
She said, "Thank you," and I just passed back out.
At least that's how I remember it. My brain was turned off, using drugs. I don't remember even dreaming anything during that time. Just turned off.
After three days, they woke me up and said, "You're going to have to start using your muscles.
They put me in a private room, and made me start sitting up, and being awake. That was a struggle, at first, keeping awake, I mean. I was in so much pain. They say men will never know the pain of childbirth. I think a broken pelvis just might compare to the dilation women go through. Just sayin'.
They let me start to eat some food. That was difficult too. My face having all of those stitches, and all.
On the fifth day of me laying there, they decided that it was time to take my catheter out. They gave me some Vaseline for the white blood cell crust around the hose. It was dried on pretty bad. I worked on softening it up for something like a half hour.
Then It was the nurse's turn to do the deed. She used a syringe to deflate the balloon in my bladder. She told me to brace myself. I grabbed the bed rails. She grabbed my ding-a-ling, and she pulled the hose.
Once again, the scream just slipped out of me.
They made me go up and down stairs on crutches. Made me use a walker to go to, and get up and down from the toilet. I was allowed to take a shower, and wash my scabbed up face.
Oh, the joy I felt when I got to drink a soda pop.
I read a novel, while I was laying there, all chewed up. It was Storming Intrepid. It was a good book. Outer space spy adventure. The Soviets tried to steal an American military "top secret" space shuttle.
After one week, in the hospital, they sent me home with a pair of crutches. I was told that I would have to use the crutches for four months.
So, I went home. And I was all kinds of messed up. I truly needed help.

To be continued...
Thank you all very much for giving me your precious time and attention.

Keep exploring, and stay safe,
Bugzy out.