Feb. 26th, 2009

texas33forever: (Hurting hair)
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Tim was pretty sure he would kill for a beer right now. At the very least, he would severely maim to get his hands on one. Pain thrummed through his whole body making it difficult to even think straight. He was constantly sweating, leaving the doctors to keep sticking him with more IV lines to keep him hydrated. And this was only the third day in. Third or forth days were apparently the worst. If one more bitch nurse or one more asshole doctor told him it was all down hill from there, he was getting up and checking himself out. Actually, checking himself out wasn't such a bad idea...

He looked at the door, eyes narrowed as he tried to wrap his pounding head around things. Yeah. He was going to check himself out. He was fucking sick of this shit. He pushed the covers back and climbed out of the bed. It felt like it took ages for the room to stop spinning and stayed still, palms braced on the mattress. He closed his eyes as he started to dry retch again. Fuck it. He could handle this anywhere but in a fucking hospital. When the wooziness eased, he opened his eyes and started to peel back the bandage around the IVs. He was going home. Fuck it all.

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Tim Riggins

January 2015

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