Teenaged

The doctors looked down at my stomach, feeling the bruise around my ribs and trying to figure out how to pop the foot back into place. When we had arrived the nurse had nearly passed out at the sight of the small foot shaped bruise darkening on my stomach, immediately calling the doctors to my side. Apparently developing extremities lodging into your bones isn’t a common occurrence, at least not in Carson City, Nevada.
“Someone get the pulsar,” the doctor said as Roland sat in the cushioned chair next to my bed, squeezing my hand and stroking my hair as Trent and Rylie called my parents and Michael and Gabby finished setting up the nursery with Deborah and Roland Sr. “Wait, what’s the pulsar?” Roland asked, grabbing the dreads that had gathered at the base of his neck. He had pulled them back with rubber bands but he still felt the urge to run his hands through them when he got worried.
“It’s a form of massage therapy, it’s used to help loosen up her nerves and muscles,” he explained as they hooked up what looked like a drill with a circular piece of cloth on it. The set it against my ribs and gently massaged and pulsed it against my skin like I was getting a gentle massage.
Slowly, like a chiropractor, the doctor pressed down on the foot and after excruciating pain I felt the foot pop out of the ribs. I felt the swelling go down and sighed in relief. “Ow,” I whimpered as they turned off the pulsar. “Feeling better?” the doctor asked. I nodded as Roland squeezed my hand, bringing it to his lip and kissing it softly.