Chapter Twenty One
“Still can’t summon the resolve to open the catheter valve yourself.”
It is the stern voice of Nurse Ingrid. Her irritating reminder that hands are free to roam brings Nicholas Strothers from semi consciousness. He feels fingers pressing on his swollen belly. Then there follows a tremor on the catheter tube which he knows signifies that the simple yet controlling clamp is being opened.
Within moments, there comes the sound of splatter immediately followed by the easing of the slow build up of pressure as many hours of accumulating excretion gratefully flows to the floor.
“Thank you, Miss Ingrid,” a humble male voice knows to offer.
The expression of gratitude is genuine, the many days of constant feminine governance eroding all male bravado. But why can he not muste
