Heal thyself

Eleftherios Petrounias performs an iron cross during his gold medal routine at the 2016 Olympics

When I woke up I was in Nurse Carothers’s bed staring up at the water stains on the ceiling panels of her trailer.  I don’t think I’ve been in a mobile home before that had panels like that.  My head already almost touches the ceiling, why would you give up more space for panels?   

I must have crawled in there at some point.  I don’t think NC could drag me in there, physically or without waking me up.  I hope I asked her if that was okay first.  I would hate to think I got in someone’s bed without permission.  Very rude that would be.   

The entire area between my hips up to my bellybutton feels like it’s being squeezed by a giant hand that is determined to get all the juice out of me.  I tried to gather my magic for another round of healing but I couldn’t.  It kept slipping away.   

I thought that the pain might be breaking my concentration so I tried 42561’s pain editing spell next but I couldn’t manage that either.  I guess all I’m capable of is setting towels on fire.  I felt pathetic.  I also felt gross so I levered myself up and did a stiff “don’t move your hips” stagger-walk to the shower and hosed myself off as best I could.   

When I hauled myself out with my arms over the tub lip like a gymnast doing that cross thing on the rings I realized that the entirety of my wardrobe consisted of jeans three sizes too big and an American Momma graphic T ($1.50 on clearance) stiff with blood from the tits down.   

I really need to get my car.   

Wrapped in a towel I spider-armed myself out into the living room/kitchen and saw that NC left me a note saying there was more flavorless meat soup in the coral pink fridge.  Along with that was an invitation to take what I needed from a bottle of Percocet on top of the note.  The bottle said it was prescribed to Tim Richardson.   

I declined her kind offer of stolen opioids and called 42561.  After a stupid comedy routine of her saying that if I was shot I needed to go to a hospital and me explaining to her that I had already been to the hospital she tried to help guide me through her method of magical healing.   

Royale taught me a healing spell that all things considered is fucking miraculous.  Stella (RIP) taught me one that was ever better than that.  But the one 42561 taught me is best.  I know that I can’t do it half as well as she can.  I bet that she could heal herself from any injury that isn’t quickly fatal.  She’s like that werewolf superhero Hugh Jackman.   

She did try her best to walk me through it but it was no good.  Maybe because we were on the phone, I’ve never had that work well.  Maybe because I was too fucked up to do it anyway.  Maybe just because her method is so different from mine.  Sometimes it doesn’t even seem like she’s casting a spell, she just pulls the energy into her body and uses it as fuel.  I don’t get it.   

We were both getting frustrated which is the last thing you need when you’re trying to work magic.   

I felt like shit for doing it but I asked if she could come try and help me in person.  She was quiet for a while, I thought because she was pissed at me but instead she said “You never ask me for help” which confused me because I ask her for help all the time.  “Not like this” she said. 

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