Romping Through The Wetlands – Chapter Fifteen

And back to Helen’s ass.

Just kidding. Sort of.

When we last left Helen, she was hiding under her bed masturbating when the cleaning lady came into her room. The lady opens the trash can and makes a little noise of disgust, which Helen isn’t too impressed with. But seriously, if I opened a trash can full of towels soaked in ass piss I’d maybe make a noise too. I don’t know if any amount of nursing gets you used to human ass puss smell. Does it? Nurses, feel free to weigh in on this.

I've seen things.

I’ve seen things.

I hear the drawer of my nightstand open.

No way. What is she doing in there? Get out! There’s nothing to clean in there – only something to steal. money.

The drawer closes again. I’ll look to see what’s missing. That was a favourite game for us at home. In a wardrobe or on a table, my father would make us look away and then remove something. Then we’d have to figure out what was gone.

I’m good at it. Just you wait…

In a time before smartphones…

Helen waits until the cleaning lady is done and then gets up to check the nightstand. Nothing is gone, and she’s happy that she doesn’t have to report the cleaning lady and get her fired.

So why did she open the drawer?

Maybe she just wants to see what people have. Maybe it’s a tick or a fetish of hers. You could also call it a hobby, I guess.

I’ll never know. Even if I asked her, I know she wouldn’t answer honestly. That’s just the way people are.

I would divulge my fetishes. But nobody asks me. Nobody thinks to.

As well they shouldn’t, because none of us really need to know what’s going on in your head, Helen.

Helen rings the emergency button and a nurse comes in. Helen tells her that the cleaning lady was just there and she forgot to clean up the puddle of water that she spilled in the corner. The nurse calls the cleaning lady, who is rather surprised to see Helen there, in her bed, seconds after she left. I was going to give Helen points for being happy she didn’t have to get the lady fired, but I’m taking them away now because she’s just fucking with the poor woman.

The nurse isn’t really nice to the cleaning lady about cleaning up the puddle, so the cleaning lady gets pissy and shoves Helen’s bed really hard out of the way to clean up the mess.

When she suddenly stops the bed after the two-yard drive, I nearly fall out. I let out a high-pitched cry. I always do that when something happens to me, good or bad. I scream loud. If I stumble over something I let out a major scream. Let it all out, that’s my motto – otherwise you’ll get cancer.

…Ok?

I’m very loud in bed, too.

Of course you are.

As I scream I can see the corner of the cleaning woman’s mouth twitch – upward, not downward. Ha. She’s taking pleasure in my misfortune. That pisses me off. I promise myself that if she’s ever in the hospital, lying there helpless, I’ll push her around like Aladdin and when she screams I’ll let the corner of my mouth turn up like that so she can see how it feels. I swear I will. Helen. very impressive.

I can see both sides of this. I’d be annoyed if some little bitch patient was messing with me, but I’d also be kinda pissed that a cleaning lady was shoving my bed around. Shame on both of you.

While the lady is cleaning up the puddle, Helen realizes that she’s left her homemade tampon on the radiator.

Oh no. Forgot about that. She hasn’t noticed it up to this point. The slots of the built-in radiator are probably not a main area of focus for her duties. I might get lucky and she’ll just swish around in the corner and never raise her eyes above the level of the mop. I try to calm my fears with this possibility. I really hope she doesn’t see the bloody wad.

Why do you care? You were ecstatic about smearing your blood all over the elevator for people to discover, why are you embarrassed about this now?

Helen says thanks and asks the lady to push her back up against the wall, and she shoves it really hard again.

Bam. It smacks into the wall and I scream again.

Yep, all her resentment over cleaning up after filthy patients packed into one motion.

I doubt other patients are as purposefully filthy as you.

She grabs the mop and heads out. Just before she closes the door behind her she says, “Funny-if the glass fell over, why is it sitting there full?”

My heart skips a beat again.

I look over at the metal nightstand and see the full glass of water. I’m terrible at making up fake explanations.

Wasn't me.

Wasn’t me.

I toss the bloody clump into the chrome trash can.

Don’t be disappointed. Your next self-fuck will be better, Helen.

Sigh.

She checks to make sure the rest of the room is in order, and that there isn’t anything gross that she doesn’t want seen.

I just need to get out of this wet gown. Undress first and then ring the buzzer, or ring first and then undress? Helen? You wouldn’t be Helen if you were to ring first.

You can’t say this girl doesn’t know herself.

She enjoys the feeling of the covers on her bare chest, and reflects how she’s used to crisp clean linens because her mom is such a freak about sheets being clean and perfect. She rings the buzzer and it’s Robin that comes in.

She asks him for a fresh gown, handing him the wet one, making sure to lose the sheet so that her nipples peek out. He doesn’t react, instead asks her what happened, and if she’d been bleeding. Helen’s pretty excited that he cares, since she’s been such a weird patient. I’m also mystified. The power of nipples, I guess.

“No, no. No bleeding. I would tell you immediately if that happened. I tried to masturbate under the bed and I accidentally knocked over a glass of water and it spilled on me. Everything got wet.”

He laughs it off like she’s joking, and goes to get her a new gown. I envy him a little bit for being so ignorant.

Of course, as soon as he’s gone, Helen gets bored and starts rooting around in the trash can for her makeshift tampon.

I open the Tupperware container on the other side of the bed and put the lump of bloody toilet paper in with the unused hygiene articles. I hope my bacteria multiplies and spreads in there and – invisible, as bacteria is – gets all over the gauze bandages and pads. The box is steamed up from sitting in the sun. For my purposes it has perfect petri-dish conditions.

Yup.

Yup.

When I’m released, the next patient will be able to further my experiment by proving to me and the world that nothing bad happens when you use bandages with other people’s bacteria on them to stop the bleeding in your open wound. I’ll keep track of the experiment as a candy striper, knocking on the door, daily, and opening it at the same time, catching ass patients masturbating on the floor.

Helen needs a hobby.

Robin comes back and Helen drops her sheet again, giving him full view of her as she slips on the gown. She asks him to tie it, and he does, saying that he unfortunately has to get back to work. Run away, Robin.

There’s a knock at the door and it’s Helen’s dad, showing up for a surprise visit. Helen laments that she’ll never get her parents back together if they keep showing up unscheduled.

“Hello, my daughter. How are you doing?”

“Hi, dad. Have you had a bowel movement?”

They laugh about this and it makes me feel good. It’s nice that Helen at least has a somewhat nice relationship with a parent.

He’s brought her a present, and it turns out to be a hemorrhoid pillow.

“So you can sit without it hurting. The sore part goes in the middle of the ring so it floats in the air. If it’s not touching anything, it can’t cause you pain.”

“Oh, thanks, dad.” He’s obviously spent a lot of time thinking about me in pain and wondering what he could do to help. My father has feelings. And feelings for me. Nice.

Yay, this is good! Enjoy this for about 2.5 seconds before we get into the next paragraph. Helen starts to blow up the pillow but can’t finish, and hands it to her dad.

I left an extra gob of spit on the inflation valve on my last puff. Dad puts it in his mouth without wiping it off. That’s the precursor to a French kiss. Wouldn’t it be considered that? I can definitely imagine having sex with my father.

Yup.

Yup.

She thinks about how when she was a kid and her parents were still together she used to peek at her dad walking to the bathroom naked every morning.

I didn’t know about morning wood back then. I only learned about that much later. Even after I was fucking boys I still thought for a long time that morning erection was because of me. It was a big disappointment to learn men have them to keep their piss from running out. Major disappointment.

So sorry to disappoint you, dear Helen.

Then she goes into this long diatribe about how her dad used to expend so much energy at the beach blowing up inflatable animals and mattresses for her and her brother to play with. Then she remembers that he was supposed to put sunscreen on her back and he never did a good enough job and her back was always badly sunburned.

Maybe he was just too depleted from blowing up all those inflatable toys to be able to properly cover me with sunscreen. Maybe it was just too much to ask for. Probably. I do that all the time. Ask for too much.

I want to feel bad for you, Helen, because no child should have to feel that way, but some of the disgusting things you ask for are really too much.

A nurse comes in.

I already know what she wants.

“No, I haven’t had a bowel movement.”

“That’s not what I wanted. I just wanted to change the plastic bag in your trash can. You produce such a steady stream of used gauze pads.”

“Well my ass is producing a steady stream of blood and ass piss.”

LMFAO.

Sorry. But Helen gets points for that.

Both the nurse and her dad are shocked at her bluntness, and I applaud as I gasp for air from laughing. The nurse changes the plastic bag and turns to leave.

“If that pillow is supposed to be for the patient, I’d advise against it. It’ll tear everything open again if she sits on it. It’s not for people who have had surgery.”

My father gets up and puts the pillow in my wardrobe. He seems sad that he’s given me something harmful.

I feel bad for Helen’s dad. For having such a fucked up daughter, but also for trying to do right by such a fucked up daughter.

He says he has to get going soon, and Helen wonders why. She thinks about how she’s never paid attention to what her father did for a living, and feels like it’s too late in life to ask now, because that would tip him off to her being super unobservant. She knows it’s something to do with research and science, and decides to go through his secret cabinet when she gets home to find out.

“Okay, dad. Say hi to all your coworkers from a stranger.”

“What coworkers?” he says softly as he walks out the door.

That’s it for today, friends. Next week things get painful.

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