Saturday, August 25, 2007

Gotta Love the Nyquil

Title: Gotta Love the Nyquil
Author: Tarabeth
Characters: Katie – Chris/Verge - Syd
Warning: No Spanking...but, there is a rectal thermometer and the mention of an enema

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“Chris Robeson.”

“Hobo,” it took a lot of effort to talk, my nose was terribly stuffed, my head was fuzzy and felt completely full of snot, I had been coughing so much that my chest seriously hurt. Although I knew better, I was avoiding food and liquids because they only seemed to increase the mucous production, which aggravated the cough to the point of vomiting.

“Hello, Katie baby, I take it you aren’t feeling any better?” Chris was always so sweet about checking on me when I was sick.


“What’s up sweetie? Do you need something?” He asked with concern.

Once I finished coughing up a lung, I was able to answer, “Jeess, pbeese.” I heard Virgil in the background ask how I was doing. I began to give Chris my list and than started coughing hard it brought tears to my eyes…”appo juice, Kleenex, soup, toilet paper, Nyquil, aspirin…”

“Katie, do you have anything at your house?” Virgil must have picked up the other extension.

“I wabbn’t planning an getting sibk.” I hacked.

Virgil’s voice moved into clinician mode. “You sound horrible. Do you have a temperature?”

“I don’t know. I think so.” I was starting to think this conversation wasn’t going to end well. The last time I was this sick I ended up in Chris and Verge’s spare room being nursed by my two overly protective best friends and the Colonel. Why couldn’t Chris just pick some stuff up for me, so I could enter a Nyquil induced stupor and get some sleep.

“I’ll send Chris over to pick you up…pack some jammies, your pillows and toothbrush…he will be there in about 15 minutes.”

“Verrrrggggge.” I whined. “It is just a cold. I will be fine in a couple of days.”

“I don’t like you being sick and alone, I would much rather you stay with us until you are feeling better. Chris will be there to collect you in a few minutes.”

“What about Fred and George?” I asked after my kittens.

“Put, them in their carrier and they can come with you.” Crap, I was sure that was my one option for staying at home.

Argh. Okay, I admit, I truly hate being sick and alone. It is depressing. I wallow, that I don’t have a partner to take care of me. I cry, make a big mess of the house, and can be very pitiful. But, that said, I have a very stubborn, independent streak and being sick at home alone wallowing in my pittifulness is how it is supposed to work. Having friends who love me enough to take me in and care for me screws with the way the universe works and turns my pittifulness into crankiness.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Verge had his stethoscope around his neck and his medical bag sitting on the bedside table, he lifted the comforter on the bed in the spare room while Chris fluffed my pillows. Packing and the trip to their house had worn me out. I took a few sips from the bottle of water I had brought with me. I was still so stuffed up. My mouth had that lovely cotton ball feeling that comes with prolonged mouth breathing. I applied some lip balm and took another sip of water.

I climbed into bed, rolled over away from the boys and pulled the covers up over my head so I could go to sleep.

“Hold on Missy.” Verge said. “I need to check you out before you go to sleep. Sit up for me, I want to get a listen to your chest.”

“Pervert.” I said with a little smile.

“You know it. Listening to your chest makes me all tingly inside.” He said, with a little laugh, and returned my smile.

“Where’s the Colonel?” I asked.

Verge raised my t-shirt and applied the stethoscope to my back. I jumped at the coldness of the metal on my back. “Oh, sorry babe.” He removed the stethoscope and rubbed it against his hand to warm it a bit, and then returned it, slightly warmer, to my back. “Deep breath.” I took as deep a breath as I could, but it hurt and caused a coughing fit. Verge moved the stethoscope, “Again.”

“Where’s the Colonel?” I asked a second time.

“Don’t know,” Verge answered, moving the stethoscope to the front of my chest. “You know since she retired, she has become a little social butterfly. Deep Breath. We don’t see nearly as much as of her as when she was working.” He gave me a wink, and then continued, “and then there is Dean Smothers.”

Samantha Smothers is the closeted Dean of Business at the University. Syd and the Dean had become “close friends” over the past couple of months. Well, at least with the Colonel gone, I wouldn’t be subject to any of her regimented alternative therapies for a while. Hopefully, I would be in much better shape by the time I encountered her.

“Okay go ahead and lie down.” Verge reached over and felt my head. “Katie, baby, I’m going to take you temperature, you’re feeling pretty hot, and I’d like to get an idea of how high your fever is. “

I began to sit up so he could take my temperature, when I noticed that there was an uncapped tube of KY on the bedside table, and that the thermometer he was holding had a big dollop of lube on the end of it. My eyes widened, “I don’t think so Verge.” I pulled the covers back up to my face.

Virgil gave me a very sympathetic look. “Baby, you can’t breathe out of your nose. There is no way you are going to be able to hold a thermometer in your mouth and breathe at the same time.”

I shot him a look of utter defiance. “I’ll hold my breath.”

He let out a small laugh, “For five minutes, I don’t think so. You’ll be fine. We’ve done this before.”

Hmff. I felt tears begin to well up in my eyes.

“Five minutes and then we’re all done. Just roll over for me. Okay?”

I knew that I was truly sick and felt like complete and total crap when I realized, I was submitting to a rectal thermometer just so I could get a cold medication fix.

As I began to roll over onto my stomach, I felt Verge lower the bed covers. I pulled my pajama bottoms down to just below the cheek cleft. My tears continued to fall more from the frustration of being sick than from the actual procedure.

Verge gently rubbed my back for a minute or so, talking softly. When he stopped, I felt him separate my cheeks, exposing my anus. Argh. This wasn’t fun. He gently pushed the thermometer in and I winced at the intrusion.

I whimpered through the whole unpleasant experience. As Verge withdrew the invader, I let out a sigh, thinking drugs and sleep would soon be my friends.

“103.1. Not good, missy.”

“I think a nice coffee enema should help bring that down.” I hadn’t heard her enter the room.

“Hi, Syd.” I mumbled. I was beginning to wish that I kept my medicine cabinet stocked, and paid better attention to my sick dialing habit.

Colonel Sydney Wallows was Chris’s aunt. Syd was a career Army nurse. She enlisted in the Army straight out of nursing school and after basic training went straight to Vietnam. Sydney nursed me through recovery after I was raped and was the first to notice my symptoms of rape related post-traumatic stress years later. She has been my friend, mentor and surrogate mother, and as much as I love her, she is usually the last person I want to see when I am sick. Syd believes that a coffee enema can cure anything and that they should be administered high, hot and huge.

“I was thinking more along the lines of a shot of penicillin.” Verge chimed in. “She has pneumonia.”

Wow, shot or enema, my options were so enticing.

Syd came over and gave me a quick kiss before exiting to prepare her witches brew.

“Verrrrrgggggge.” I protested. “Don’t let her.”

“I’m not telling her, ‘No.’ that woman raised three Tops. Besides she isn’t going to hurt you.” He tried to defend his lack of support.

“Hmff.” I protested. “Not hurt, your not the one who’s butt she’s pumping two quarts of coffee into.”

“Tell her you don’t want it.” He encouraged.

“I’ve tried, it doesn’t work.” I replied with sigh.

“What happened?” Verge enquired.

“I ended up over her lap with a sore bottom and a tube up my butt.”

“I’m sorry Katie, baby.” Verge climbed into bed next to me, and drew me in for a cuddle. “I’m gonna have to run to the office and pick up some penicillin for you.”

“Joy.” I responded with complete and total sarcasm. Verge cuddled with me until Syd returned with the upturned hot water bottle.

He kissed me on the cheek, “Well, I’ll leave you two at it, then.” He said retreating from the room.

I coughed after him, “Don’t…think you’re forgiven…Virgil Wallace, you big…scaredy cat!”

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

I finely closed my eyes seeking the sleep I had been longing for since early that morning, It had not been one of my more fun mornings, I thought as I noted my sore bottom, from the shot Verge gave me, and my empty colon, from the enema Syd administered. I was however terribly happy when Chris arrived home with the Nyquil.

Oh how I enjoy a good Nyquil buzz.

Syd, Chris and Virgil took turns tending to me over the next few days. I usually stayed in the guest room at Chris and Verge’s and Syd came downstairs to sit with me during her shift. But, on a couple of occasions the boy’s wanted the house to themselves and Fred, George and I were moved upstairs to Syd’s flat.

So, it really didn’t seem a bid deal when Virgil helped me upstairs Wednesday night, I just assumed he and Chris were planning a night of noisy wild love. To be honest, it wasn’t like I wouldn’t be able to hear them up at Syd’s place. I wonder sometimes if the walls to their house are thin or if the boys are just really loud. I really don’t know how Syd manages to live upstairs from them. Really, those two have never been quiet in the sex department. Someone needs to teach them the joys of quiet, repressed sex. Not me, for god’s sake, that is just, “Ew.”

Noisy sex is great and all, but I was very comfortable in their guest room. If they are going to force me to come stay at their house, they could at least have the decency to keep it down.

When I was still at Syd’s on Friday morning, I was a little concerned. I vowed to ask her, when the fuzz in my head cleared and I could remember.

*** *** *** *** ***

I had been sleeping on the couch, cozy, under my down comforter, with Fred and George sleeping on my lap when Syd woke me. She was sitting on the edge of the coffee table stroking my hair off of my forehead.

“You’re still warm, baby.” She said. She picked up the thermometer and lube, “roll over for me, and let’s see what you’re registering.”

“Syd, I don’t want to, and the kittens are sleeping. Can’t you do it later?” I pleaded.

Syd set the thermometer down, stood, and went into the kitchen, “Here kitty, kitty, kitties. Do you want a treat? Come ‘ere little ones.” Fred and George sprang from my lap and ran for the kitchen.

I could hear their little traitorous purrs and meows from the kitchen as they were given kitty treats. Bastards.

Syd returned to the lounge, retrieved the thermometer, and raised my comforter. “Come on baby, on your tummy.”

I rolled over and lowered my pajama bottoms. Syd leaned over, separated my cheeks and inserted the thermometer in my bottom. Argh. “You’re okay baby.” Syd tried to reassure me. “Just listen to the beeps. When you hear three in a row, it’s all over. It will just be a minute or so, you’re doing great.”

I must say, I was slightly happier that Syd and Verge were now using the digital thermometer and I was only now being submitted to one or two minutes as opposed to the minimum of five with the old mercury one.

I heard the three consecutive beeps and Syd withdrew the thermometer, pulled up my pajama bottoms and pulled the comforter back over me. “100.8.” She announced. “Good, it is still going down. Try and go back to sleep, baby.”

I rolled over and pulled the comforter up over my nose, “I don’t like that.” I whined.

“I know baby, but you are still struggling to breath out of your nose. So, there isn’t another option. As soon as you’re breathing better, we’ll use an oral thermometer. Okay?” She said, lightly grazing my forehead.

I nodded.

“Syd?” I asked sleepily.

“Yeah, baby.” She responded.

“Where are Chris and Verge?” I asked with a large yawn.

“We just thought it might be better for you stay up here. Close your eyes, now.” She said bending over to kiss my forehead.

The End

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Copyright TBL 2008