As I finally got my eyes open, it had been quite a few days. My C-section was now done, and I was wrapped internally with that little invention, a la Salvatore's, hoping it helps fuse my bones together and keep my pelvis stable. Because of my breaks, my operation had taken over 8 hours, and it was very time-consuming and had to be done with precision and careful planning.
Mariella's operation too had taken 6.5 hours; she too had some issues with her bones, as well as her ever-worsening preeclampsia, which had brought additional sets of problems into operation.
I was doped up to my gills, and I was fixed again in a certain position, and Damon had gone with me to this aftercare very thoroughly before surgery so I would understand as I woke up what was done and why and not panic.
Well, my whole body felt numb, thanks to spinal anesthesia plus muscle relaxants. Again, my body was now loose and numb, so they were able to position it just correctly. There would be position changes every four hours as well, and Damon had warned me that my nerves might snap at some point. I did not deny that.
I saw that Mariella was asleep as well; her position was on her front, head turned to the side, and her right arm was straight, encased in a cast, but her arm was sticking out to the shoulder level, and there was a support beam that helped carry some of the limb's weight as it was not in bed but outside of it.
There were dressings going on her neck, and she was warmly covered, but I could see her hips were slightly raised so her spine was in a certain position, and everything in her was optimized, but I could guess that once she woke up, that might not be the most comfortable position to be in.
Well, first, her field of vision was limited; she was placed in an anatomically correct position, but it did not mean it was not painful or straining, and I guess that cast and her arm might feel pretty heavy. Well, unless she too was on a spinal block.
I was wondering about names for my babies and when I would finally be able to walk and act. Well, I had given girls tasks and tips on how to manage time most efficiently and how to prioritize what. I was, after all, under all this damn medical thing, still the alpha female of our pack, and it was a position where one could not take sick leave just because; it was kind of embedded in my genes.
In normal packs, well, males would step up; it was not so hierarchical as, say, for lions, but for shifters, the alpha pair usually did things together, and if the female was injured, she would tell the male what was needed, and the male would make sure the pack was fine.
But me? I was not that kind of alpha female, and Damon, well, if he got my tips and tricks, he would not give his power back to me once I was okay very easily. So I kept my silence and talked to other females, and in a way that Mariella could not notice, meaning via our private hive channel.
As Mariella still had her fixation on sharing everything with Damon and these sorts of things, it would be very fast for her to tell him. As she trusted him, their relationship was at a level where I could never be with Damon.
I was not even with Wulfe like that. Mainly because I was an alpha, dominant female, whereas Mariella had been her whole life submissive to Damon, weaker than him, and letting him be strong for her.
Well, our recovery went on for a few days. Let's just say that Salvatore's nerves got shorter and shorter, not because we sniped at them but because we had this thing going on. It was simple.
In morning rounds, after kids had been dealt with, we were put in the next position, put our IVs in, or gave meals, and it was meant that we would nap or chat, but as my hormones were still all over the place, Mariella was not the best company to me, and so many things irritated me about her, and she was such a tattle-tale; I got too creative.
It was 11:30 am, meaning morning rounds had been at 8, but we usually were the last ones, and our position was logged in at 9:45 for Mariella and 10:15 for me, four hours, and then it was time to change. I was currently in a semi-sitting position, with no more cast on my pelvis or spinal block, only heavy painkillers.
As they were now making sure my hips were healing and not shrinking, I had to be in different positions, sometimes like this, sitting; sometimes on my side; and my arm was no longer in a cast but in tight support bandages as well as my chest.
Mariella was on her side, facing me, her legs straight, but there was a thick pillow between them, meant to stretch her hip joint as well as her back. Damon had again given us lectures or explanations of why these positions were needed.
I grunted as I shuffled in my bed, managing to shift slightly.
Mariella furrowed her brows and said, "You must not do that; you were in a perfect position. Now you moved; you know it might harm you."
She too wriggled slightly, and, well, I was catty as I noticed her moving her arm a bit too much, making it stretch way too far back. I was a good wife and got ready to contact Damon telepathically. With all the innocence I could muster, knowing he might be eating or resting.
But as said, we had this thing going on, and it was called, "I will Damon that you moved," so Mariella informed him from time to time if I shuffled too much, causing him, Adam, and Charles to walk back in, assess the situation, and then deal with it. If there was a problem, and I did the same when I noticed Mariella moving, always being the epitome of innocence and just trying to be the alpha female caring for her beta female.
"Damon, Mariella moved again, and I am worried her arm is extended beyond 15 degrees, and she shifted her hips, causing a lateral tilt. Should I be worried?" I said via Hive to Damon.
Whose irritation I could feel, but as usual, he was in his doctor's mode, very patient, and he said, "We are coming. Her hips should not tilt, and I have told her not to let her shoulder strain."
I did not say anything to Mariella, and a few minutes later, footsteps were heard.
Mariella glared at me as she shuffled more, causing Damon to walk to her, place his hand on her side, and say, "Stop, darling. I told you, your spine is not well. Those discs need time to heal. Micro-fractures throughout your vertebrae are not a funny thing. And your arm. Don't do that."
Mariella rolled her eyes, and Adam and Charles brought more pillows and a few straps as men fixed her position, and then Damon went to the drug cabinet to get an extra dose.
Mariella said defiantly, "Mimi moved too; she shuffled her hips and pushed herself more, sitting. "
Damon grunted; I could smell meat on his breath as he put the ready syringe for Mariella at the table and came to me. He groped my hips, felt around that I had not moved too much, and moved one pillow behind my back a little bit so my position was leaning more.
"Baby, hips should not bend 90 degrees; 75 is the maximum right now. Your ass might be numb. I adjust the mattress and don't use your fingers so much. I have told you, light grasping, not yet used to pull or push." His voice was explanatory, and Charles brought again one set of gloves that Damon put on me.
They kept my fingers stiff so I could not bend them so much. Since my arm was in a sling, it was hard for me to try to remove them, but I knew that soon my hands would be sweaty, as now I did not want much covering; I was always hot and always sweaty, and it made men have to clean me three times a day. According to number four, my body was purging itself of drugs, metabolites, and whatnot.
As he got me in the correct position too, he went to get an extra dose for me too; it was his way to deal with us. If we were to harass him too much with each other's positions, he would make us have a nap so he too might have one or eat, be with babies, do some pack leader work, or whatever; it was not just him.
Sure, other Salvatores would come from time to time to adjust our positions and whatnot, and they too were a bit frazzled, as there was so much to do. Well, let's just say I was as gifted as ever at coming up with chores and what needed to be done, and I made girls try to make them, only for Salvatores or Adam, Charles, or even Wulfe to notice and prevent it.
For example, as it was now spring, there was no more need for heavy velvet curtains, and besides, those tend to gather dust. So I told this to May and Lily; they set to change those curtains, but as number five saw them huddling on long steps, reaching for curtain clips, as the curtain fell down, a dust cloud puffed out.
This was the first curtain, and we had at least 15 rooms left where they had been. So no more of that for girls, but men had to change and use spells to trap those dust clouds, as they were harmful when inhaled. My little tricks kept men nice and busy as if they already weren't with all kinds of little jobs concerning this and that.
Like our culvert situation, now offers had started to come in, so they had to make a comparison and choose what was best. It was not an easy one, as each offer had some good and some lacking.
Our shops had been closed, and it was fine as the whole town was still on recovery; the road was renovated, and there was an alternate route, as it would take time. That ravine would be filled, and heavy trucks full of wasteland drove weekly as men went to fetch groceries; the ravine was being filled.
Add there our care; being with Mariella's toddlers, all of them could be awake now, and her three girls were not keen to share with each other or with smaller babies, so fights and tantrums erupted from time to time.
It was chaos, and it was one damn educational chaos, giving men plenty of motive to get us well and on our feet. But as our injuries were taking their time to heal, and as for my kids too, they were almost ready to wake up.
And then they would spend time with Adam and Charles and others; some gentle physiotherapy was needed, as long bed rest might have withered their muscles and skills. So it would take a bit more to get them as healthy as they had been, and only then, after they would be declared by the state doctor healed fully, could they continue in daycare, so there was a lot to be done in the future.
Damon tinkered in the drug cabinet and took a big bag of fluids, actually two, and proceeded to make sleepytime bags for me and Mariella. He took a breath to ponder what to use and then moved on to the computer; his finger clicked buttons, and a few more doors popped open, and he moved to make them more potent.
What could it do? Nothing much; I was not in the mood to really get rowdy. All I had to do was tolerate this time after time, even if it did not get any easier—not when I was so messed up and had not had time to deal with everything. My attitude was not one of wanting to learn to tolerate all medical stuff, and despite this, I had made it as safe as possible.
It was not safe for me, as I had so little power over myself, and I was literally at the mercy of others. I should be better, I thought tiredly, but I just could not. But I masked most of my anxiety even from Wulfe; too many times had passed being in the mercy of Damon, and this much had given me reason to be distrustful.
As in the past, even if it had been a long time ago, Mariella had gotten him to leave me in the care of others as Mariella had wanted him. And despite Mariella being on bed rest, her situation was not as severe as mine. And my neurotic mind could come up with so many ways for her to ensnare him and others, leaving me to fend for myself.
I was exhausted, bewildered, and overrun by hormones, but I hid my weaknesses from everyone, even from numbers five and eight, or Wulfe, as I saw them as targets for Mariella as well.
Damon came next to my bed, utterly clinical, and hung the now ready-made bag and connected it, setting it to drip, keeping the muting spell on so I did not hear drops dripping in the chamber.
He said to me, "Have a nap; that might keep you down for a while, but rest is what you need. We will check that you are not slumped a little bit later on."
As he went to Mariella and hung her bag as well, he said to her, "Worry not, my darlin'; you are healing rather well, and soon you will get to try to walk. I will fix you right up, and then you get to meet our four bundles."
There was actual love in his voice, and he was not so clinical with her. I let my eyes drift closed, keeping my shields on so no one, not even Wulfe, would have any inkling what was going on in my cluttered, messed-up, neurotic mind. Actually, I was faking it till I was making it.
This was just my life: being the strongest, despite being the weakest; being alone, despite being cared for. But Wulfe too was stressed and strained, as kids took a lot out of him; he was their protector, and this was new to him.
I did not blame him; I just let this quiet, heavy acceptance settle in my soul, and I let drugs pull me under, a place where there were no troubles, no mistakes, no heartbreak, and no hard choices.