Edward Adrift

OK with that.”
    Sheila Renfro says, “He is.” And she’s right, although I don’t think Sally was asking her for the answer.
    I eat a little bit of orange-flavored gelatin for my dinner, but, to be honest, I’m not very hungry. I ask Sally, when she comes by to change the bag I’m peeing into, if it’s Jell-O brand gelatin, but she says she doesn’t know, that those details are handled down in the kitchen. I suppose it doesn’t matter.
    There isn’t much on TV, which surprises me. Unlike Sheila Renfro’s motel, St. Joseph Hospital has an array (I love the word “array”) of cable television channels. Maybe Sheila Renfro is correct and people shouldn’t watch so much TV, if tonight’s selection is any indication of the baseline level of quality offered on cable these days. Even if she is correct, what am I going to do? I have broken ribs. My options are limited.
    “Do you want to watch
Adam-12
on my bitchin’ iPhone?” I ask Sheila Renfro.
    “That will be fine,” she says. “Don’t cuss around me. I keep telling you.”
    I queue up the twenty-third episode of the first season, “Log 12: He Was Trying to Kill Me.” This episode originally aired on March 15, 1969. As the video comes up, I think of how much things have changed for me in just a few years. In my years of watching my favorite TV show,
Dragnet
, I never would have let so many days go between viewings, but here I am, watching
Adam-12
for the first time since the day I left Billings. If I’d known thenwhat would happen to me on this trip—which was impossible, of course—would I have come? I don’t know. I’m asking myself unanswerable questions lately, and that’s not like me. Maybe I’m changing, or maybe I’m just off my game because I’m hurt and discombobulated. If I’m changing—and changing this profoundly—I have a big adjustment to make. If I’ll be back to my old self eventually, I wonder if I will recognize the signs.
    I’m watching Officer Pete Malloy and Officer Jim Reed, but I’m not paying attention; I’m more looking through them, beyond the bitchin’ iPhone in my hands. Beyond this room and even beyond this day. I’m trying to see what’s coming, but that is a silly pursuit. We never know. I don’t, anyway. It’s all a surprise, and I’m having to learn to live with surprises even though I prefer certainty. Certainty allows you to plan your life, and there are few things I like better than planning. Surprises make you adjust along the way, and I’m not very good at that.
    Sheila Renfro has pulled her chair up tight against my bed, and her head is tilted to the right and resting on my pillow, next to my own head. I can smell her, and it pleases me.
    I’m glad she stayed.

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 17, 2011
    From the logbook of Edward Stanton, as recorded by Sheila Renfro:
    Time Edward woke up today: Repeatedly. It’s like he discovers all over again just how hurt he is every time he wakes up, and that’s heartbreaking. I wish there was something more they could do for him, but the prescription is rest and exercise.
    High temperature for Friday, December 16, 2011, Day 350: 44 in Billings. Also, Edward wants me to point out that although he appreciates Kyle’s attempt to keep track of things yesterday, it’s important that the temperatures be correct. I was able to find yesterday’s paper down in the dining area, and it said that it was a high of 33 in Billings on Thursday, December 15. Edward was relieved that I was able to find this out. He is peculiar, but I like that about him.
    Low temperature for Friday, December 16, 2011: 23. And the low was 18 on Thursday.
    Precipitation for Friday, December 16, 2011: 0.00 inches. Same as Thursday.
    Precipitation for 2011: 19.41 inches
    New entries:
    Exercise for Friday, December 16, 2011: We did three sets of two laps around this floor of the hospital. As Edward says, it’s hardto prove these things empirically, but he seemed to get better each time. The only bad part is that it hurts him so bad when we have to pull him out of the bed. It’s heartbreaking.
    Miles driven Friday, December 16, 2011: No mileage for Edward, I’m afraid. I was able to do some research and piece together how many miles he drove Thursday before the crash. It’s 86.8 miles from Cheyenne Wells to Limon, where he got on Interstate 70. I came upon the wreck a little more than seven miles after that. It’s not precise, but it’s close enough. As far as gas usage goes, I have no