She called me Aqing
Gu Wanlin kept saying she could do it all herself, but I didn't dare to believe her completely. I messaged Jiang Yu saying I was very tired and had fallen asleep on a recliner, asking her or the caregiver when they would arrive, and what I needed to be careful about in the meantime.
Jiang Yu simply gave me the contact information for her caregiver, who works both the morning and evening shifts. She told me to let her sleep if she was tired, as she couldn't sit for long in her condition and needed rest. She also reminded me to keep a close eye on Gu Wanlin's breathing and temperature, since she had just survived a lung infection. Although she had stayed in the hospital longer than usual as a precaution, it might still recur. She told me to go in two hours later to adjust her position, wake her up to drink the prescribed amount of water, give her the required medication, and check the catheter and drainage bag. After that, there shouldn't be any more issues. If she still felt tired, I could let her sleep some more. It's 2 PM now, and the caregiver will arrive at 6 PM.
Speaking of this, her caregiver suddenly asked me, "When you helped her lie down, was the drainage bag still strapped to her leg?" I said I didn't see her do anything about it; she fell asleep as soon as I helped her lie down and straightened her legs.
How could Gu Wanlin let me see this?
The caregiver continued, "Miss Chen, you should go in and take a look. Gu Wanlin is very sensitive to these things. She hasn't been feeling well lately, so the switch has been on all the time. You don't need to do anything about it. But if the bag is still tied to her leg, take it off and place it lower than her body. Otherwise, the urine won't be able to drain or might even flow back, triggering an autonomic nervous system overreaction or causing a kidney infection, which would be a big problem."
I didn't dare delay and tiptoed into her bedroom. She was lying on her back, her brows slightly furrowed, not sleeping peacefully. Apart from the occasional unconscious dry cough, her breathing was relatively steady and she didn't have a fever.
I knelt down in front of her and lifted the blanket covering her lower body. Her legs lay there quietly, in the same position I had just helped her adjust, not moved an inch. Lying flat, the difference between her left and right legs was obvious. Although both were hidden in loose jeans, at least the outline of the left leg was visible, but the outline of the right leg disappeared higher than I had imagined. Without the internal support of the jeans, they lay flat on the chair, only a thin strip visible. My nose stung, and my hand trembled as I touched them; they were indeed metallic.
Luckily, her pants were so loose that they could be rolled up to her calves, otherwise I really wouldn't know how I would have done all this without waking her up. She's a light sleeper; I used to always fall asleep before her and wake up later. A few times, I'd watch her sleep, wake her up, and playfully tease her by reaching under the covers and gently pinching her leg, which would instantly wake her up.
Afraid of waking her, and seeing her in a predicament where she was temporarily unable to cope, I carefully rolled up her left trouser leg while glancing at her face to observe her reaction.
She was oblivious and showed no reaction whatsoever.
Her heels braced against the recliner, providing some support, and her ankles were only slightly twisted outwards to prevent them from drooping. The once beautiful muscle definition in her calves had completely vanished; her thin shins appeared somewhat prominent, and they felt soft and cold to the touch. A light-colored bag was tied around the middle of her calf, its contents—a small amount of pale yellow liquid—creating a jarring contrast with her pale skin. A transparent tube connected to the bag disappeared upwards into the end of her trouser leg.
Her lower abdomen did appear slightly protruding. As soon as I untied the bag and hung it on the hook under the lower part of the wheelchair, the previously still fluid column in the catheter flowed down with gravity and into the drainage bag. It was clear that the previous position was too high, preventing proper drainage.
Fine, fine, Gu Wanlin, you can manage on your own, so you want me to leave? You're lying to me again.
I gritted my teeth, annoyed that she was being stubborn, but I also felt really sorry for her.
I know Gu Wanlin too well. We haven't seen each other for years, and our first meeting was in this kind of situation that she found hard to face. Even if I killed her, she wouldn't let me confront the unsightly state of her body. She couldn't bring herself to ask me to do these things for her, and preferred to just muddle through on her own.
Or perhaps, she doesn't really care about her body at all.
I helped her pull her trouser legs down again, smoothed out the wrinkles, covered her with the blanket again, and left the bedroom so she could continue to sleep soundly.
I sat on the sofa, intending to check my work emails on my phone, but my thoughts kept drifting back to Gu Wanlin. I remembered Li You telling me that her injury was in the C5-C7 cervical spine segment. Fortunately, it was a relatively low position in cervical spinal cord injuries; her shoulder and elbow mobility was still quite good, although her fingers were slightly restricted.
What do you mean by "not bad"? If she were standing in front of me today, all healthy and energetic, and gave me a good scolding about our breakup, then I'd consider her "not bad." Now, she's sickly, trapped outside even for a short sunbathing session, completely exhausted after just one short walk, and she has to pretend nothing happened, gritting her teeth and putting on a brave face rather than let me see her vulnerability. What do you mean by "not bad"?
The more I searched and read about the complications caused by improper care, the more alarmed I became. Her current physical fragility and the difficulties her disability brought to her life were things I could never have imagined before.
Time flew by, and my alarm went off. Following the caregiver's directions, I found her water cup—it had handles on both sides, a straw, and measuring marks. I poured water in as instructed by the caregiver. I also found her medicine box, with each dose of medication neatly arranged in different compartments according to the prescribed schedule—a small, colorful pile of capsules and tablets. After a final review of the techniques for helping quadriplegic patients turn over, which I had hastily learned online, I quietly entered her bedroom.
She was sleeping soundly, her shoulders unconsciously shifting from side to side, as if she were lying down very uncomfortable, but her body beneath was completely still and motionless.
"Gu Wanlin." I squatted down where her headrest was and called her, then checked her forehead and patted her shoulder.
She slowly opened her eyes, looking groggy and clearly still half-asleep. She turned her head and saw me, her voice thick with a nasal tone.
She tilted her head slightly, frowned, and stared at me for a few seconds, then tentatively asked with a rising tone, "A-Qing?"
She called me A-Qing. She was so cute when she was still half asleep, unlike when she was awake and guarded and distant. She called me Qingyi politely, just like everyone else. Like every morning after we slept in the same bed before, she woke up, looked at me with sleepy eyes, and called me "A-Qing".
So I responded to her in a low voice, just like before, "Nannan, I'm here."
I asked her if she could sit up to drink water and take her medicine, and if she was sleepy she could continue sleeping.
She nodded.
I slowly raised the upper part of the recliner. I tried to move as slowly as possible. After the emergency massage earlier, I knew that the change in position would cause her to have low blood pressure. But she still closed her eyes and frowned. I asked her what was wrong and if she was feeling unwell.
She shook her head, but her expression wasn't very convincing.
I stopped rocking her to an angle where she wouldn't choke when drinking water or taking medicine, and waited for her to adjust to the change in position and open her eyes. I tried to hand her the medicine to her left hand, which was closest to me, but she didn't take it. Instead, she raised her right hand, gesturing to me, "Put it here."
I placed the medicine in her right palm as instructed. She seemed to have better control over her right upper limb, but she still couldn't control her wrist extension, so her palm was still hanging down towards the ground due to gravity. When her wrist was raised to the height of the mouth, she seemed too eager to put it in her mouth, and lost control as she turned her wrist.
Colorful pills and capsules were scattered all over the floor, and in the silence, the rustling sound of them hitting the ground was deafening.
Gu Wanlin stared at the pills still bouncing on the ground, saying nothing and showing no expression.
I had to break the silence, so I pulled over the small cart next to her bed, which was crammed with three layers of medicine, and tried to comfort her, "It's okay. I'll tidy up later and get you another dose of medicine first. Can you tell me which ones you want?"
Gu Wanlin still refused to look at me. She slightly opened her mouth, and I thought she was going to say something, but she didn't make a sound.
Time stretched on endlessly in our silence.
After a long pause, she finally spoke in a hoarse voice, "It's nothing. It's okay to skip a meal. I'm very tired, and I want to go back to sleep. Don't worry about these things; someone will come to clean up later. You don't need to stay at my house and watch over me. It's really alright. Go home early."
I was worried that if she didn't take her medicine, something might happen, but I was also afraid that I would force her and hurt her self-esteem. So I laid the recliner flat and said, "Okay, lie down, and I'll help you turn over and change your position, okay?"
She buried her face in the pillow and nodded slightly, saying okay.
I grabbed several pillows from the bed next to me, but I was a bit stumped. I didn't know whether to move her to the left or the right. She hadn't taken off her right leg prosthesis yet, and I was afraid that if I moved her up, it would press on her left leg, and if I moved her down, it would hurt her left leg. In the end, I simply supported her hips and shoulders and made her lie on her side with her legs apart, with a soft pillow between them. Using what I had just learned, I pulled her shoulders out and positioned them to avoid pressure, and then placed a soft pillow behind her back for support.
I touched her forehead. "Go back to sleep."
Gu Wanlin gave a vague "hmm".
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