Craig Lancaster - Edward Adrift

As long as I’m being honest, I have to carry it over—I’m excited about spending more time with Sheila Renfro. I do not make friends easily, and the ones I have moved away from me in this shitburger of a year. To be able to make a new friend as easily as I have with Sheila Renfro—and under such difficult circumstances—makes me happy. I’ve also noticed that she’s a lot like me in that she’s no-nonsense and doesn’t spend a lot of time talking around things. If something needs to be done, she does it. She doesn’t talk about doing it. I appreciate that.

On the negative side, she does put more energy into conjecture and generalities than I am comfortable with. Take what she said about my mother as an example. I’m reasonably certain, from what I heard of their phone conversation, that my mother said something that upset Sheila Renfro. I don’t like that, but I cannot control what my mother says. Whatever my mother might have said, it’s no excuse for Sheila Renfro to extrapolate (I love the word “extrapolate”) that statement into a much broader assumption about my mother. Sheila Renfro said, “I bet she thinks all women are like that,” in reference to the Penny Lang character from Adam-12 . I don’t know if Sheila Renfro was being serious about wanting to lay down a bet; if she was, she’s doubling down—that’s a gambling term—on assumption, and I think that’s a risky thing to do.

I also think it’s odd that I’m suddenly being fought over by women in my life. That’s never happened before. By the time my mother found out about Donna Middleton (now Hays) a few years ago, we had already been through some tough situations, like dealing with her mean ex-boyfriend Mike and learning how to be friends with each other, and my mother was just happy I’d found someone who liked me. Now I’ve made another friend, and my mother isn’t so happy, apparently. That’s not consistent behavior, and I think my mother owes me an explanation. She might even owe Sheila Renfro an apology, although it would be wrong to assume anything at this point.

I’ve decided what I am going to do. Tomorrow, I’m going to take advantage of being in a truck with Sheila Renfro to try to get her to tell me what happened between her and my mother. Later, after we’re in Cheyenne Wells, I will call my mother on my bitchin’ iPhone, as I said I would, and I will try to learn her side of things.

I may have to broker some sort of agreement between my mother and Sheila Renfro, and I feel a little bit devious when I realize that I’m hoping this is the case. It’s the kind of grown-up problem that I’m not often allowed to help solve.

This could be a breakthrough for me.

And now, suddenly, I realize I have to pee really, really badly. I find the nurse call button and I push it four times. But I’m too late. Holy shit!

From the logbook of Edward Stanton, as recorded by Sheila Renfro:

Time Edward woke up today: He’s still awfully embarrassed, so I’ll try to piece this together. He says he woke up at 1:33 a.m. and did some thinking, which he must have done quietly because I didn’t wake up and this chair is killing my back. (Edward wants me to point out that “killing my back” isn’t meant to be taken literally. I am in no danger of dying.) This thinking went on for maybe 10 minutes, until Edward realized he had to pee. He didn’t make it.

High temperature for Saturday, December 17, 2011, Day 351: 44 in Billings, the same temperature as the day before. (Edward wants me to point out that this is a remarkably seasonable December, and that he will do some in-depth calculations when he gets back to Billings and has access to his full dossier—Edward loves the word “dossier”—of weather data.)

Low temperature for Saturday, December 17, 2011: 29. That’s six degrees warmer than the low from the day before.

Precipitation for Saturday, December 17, 2011: 0.00 inches. Same as Friday.

Precipitation for 2011: 19.41 inches

New entries:

Exercise for Saturday, December 17, 2011: As Sally directed, we did five sets of laps around this floor, and we also had Edward sit upright in my chair three times for an hour at each stretch. Edward wants me to point out that it remains difficult to quantify the degree of his physical improvement but that he definitely feels better than he did the day before. He also says he’s getting antsy to stop walking with the monitor he has to push, and that he’s eager to wear regular clothes again.

Miles driven Saturday, December 17, 2011: Not a one. (Edward wants me to point out that “not a one” is a weird way of saying “none,” that it uses more words than is necessary. I point out to him that my daddy used to say that and I don’t care how many words it takes.)

Total miles driven: Edward wants me to point out that he’s reviewed the past entries and that we’re way off on the mileage, so we’ll correct it here. He says that he and Kyle drove 27.4 miles while looking at oil pumps, so the grand total is 1,846.1 miles, not 1,838.7. Edward also wants me to point out that we don’t know exactly how far he had traveled on Interstate 70 before the wreck, so even this number is suspect. He says we’ll try to find the wreck site on the way home. I don’t understand what the big deal is, but he says that’s what we’re going to do. So there.

Gas usage Saturday, December 17, 2011: None.

Addendum: Edward is trying to lean over and see what I’m writing, but every time he does, his ribs hurt. That’s why I am sitting on his left. I’m not dumb.

He needs to get over the fact that he peed the bed. Yeah, under normal circumstances, a 42-year-old man should not wet the bed, but he should know by now that these are not normal circumstances.

I’m antsy to get back to the motel. I don’t make much money there, but even so, a three-day shutdown is going to affect my bottom line in a bad way. Edward pointed out to me again last night that he’s “fucking loaded,” and I really wish he’d stop saying that. He said he will compensate me for my losses. That made me really mad. He doesn’t get it sometimes.

EDWARD, I KNOW YOU’LL BE READING THIS EVENTUALLY SO STOP LEANING IN AND HURTING YOURSELF!!!!

Dr. Banning said it probably won’t be till noon or later that Edward will be discharged. I’m going to leave for a little while and get ready to go.

I’m really nervous about this. EDWARD, JUST WAIT!!!!!!

OK, I’m going to go now.

I can’t believe I peed in the overnight nurse’s shoes.

I know she was mad about it, too. She tried not to let me see that she was. She said, “It’s OK, Edward. This isn’t even close to the worst thing that’s ever happened here,” but after she left my room to go get new shoes and socks and the outfit that the nurses call “scrubs,” I could hear her tell her supervisor at the desk what happened, and she sounded really disgusted by it.

Sheila Renfro tells me that I need to forgive myself for doing what I did. It would be different, she says, if I’d intended to do it, but it most definitely wasn’t my intent. (“You didn’t mean to do it, did you?” she asked after asserting that I did not, as if she needed verification. That flummoxed me.) She says that accidents happen, especially in a health care environment. She actually said that: “Especially in a health care environment.” I think I’m starting to rub off on Sheila Renfro a little bit.

She’s probably correct. It’s just really embarrassing, and I’m not someone who deals well with embarrassment. I’m not sure I’d want to know someone who deals well with embarrassment. That would suggest a person who regularly messes up on a grand scale. I think those people are best avoided.