RANDOM THOUGHTS
Random thoughts from Starsky's Point of View after the attack in the parking garage and during his recovery.
A/N: I hope to be able to post this story on a regular basis. Still not on line and have to depend on other options to access the web. Hopefully, that situation will be resolved around the first of the month. I hope you enjoy the story.
CHAPTER 1
Pain. Terrible, mind numbing pain that made me scream in my head but nobody could hear me. Pain that seemed to wrap my entire body in a vice and twist my guts into knots. Pain that cut through me like a thousand knifes slicing at my skin. I couldn't open my eyes. I tried but it felt like my eyelids were glued shut. I struggled to keep my fear under control. This was no time to panic. At least not until I knew what I was dealing with. So, I retreated back into the safety of the darkness where the pain couldn't reach me at least for a little while. That is my first conscious memory after the shooting that day in the police garage.
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That day in mid-May started out just like any other day. The sun was shining and the air was clear. A gentle breeze from the northeast brought with it the smell of the ocean tides. I don't remember the actual shooting, the doctors tell me that I probably never will. They say that's the mind's way of protecting a person from a traumatic life altering event. I suppose you could call getting shot five times in the torso a life altering event.
What I do remember is playing a game of trivia ping pong with Hutch and winning. The prize was a three course meal of the winner's choice. As we left the building to head out on patrol, I was kidding Hutch good naturedly about my win. We were standing by my car, with me standing at the driver's door fumbling with my keys, when all hell broke loose.
All I remember clearly is hearing Hutch screaming my name. Just the tone of his voice was enough to warn me of impending danger. My left hand darted underneath my favorite brown leather jacket, reaching for my gun, even as I started to spin around to face whatever threat was coming at us. The next thing I knew, I was lying on my right side, curled up on the ground and trying desperately to draw air into my lungs which felt like they were slowly filling up with sludge. 'Hutch? Oh, God! Where was Hutch? Did he get hit?' Those were the first thoughts that raced through my mind as I lay there on the cold, hard pavement. There was no time to feel any pain. The darkness reached out and grabbed me even as Hutch ran around the front of the Torino. The last thing I can remember thinking clearly was 'Thank God, Hutch is okay.'
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Besides the terrible pain that seemed determined to rip me apart, the other thing I can remember is the sound of the activity in the room around me. I could hear the hiss, whine and beeps of the various bits of machinery that must have been surrounding my bed. I could also hear the soft sound of rubber soled shoes on the tile floor as the medical staff tended to my various needs. In the background, I could hear the muted sound of voices but there was only one voice I cared about, only one voice I wanted to hear. Hutch.
I can remember hearing his voice whispering in my ear, begging me not to die. I guess that's the first time I really understood how seriously I was injured. The fear I could hear in Hutch's voice was enough to convince me that my condition was indeed critical. But it was also the raw fear I could hear in his voice that made me start fighting harder to open my eyes just to let him know that I was okay. That golden voice became my lifeline, the one thing I could cling too when everything else was so foggy and uncertain.
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The things I know about those first two weeks in the hospital are memories that have come from other people, they are not my own. I know that I'm damn lucky to be here. I almost died. Hell, I did die. Three times according to my doctors. The first time was in the ambulance on the way to the hospital after the shooting when I almost bled out before they could get me to the emergency room where a specially assembled team had already been alerted and was waiting for my arrival.
Hutch told me that he was in Captain Dobey's car, with the Captain driving, following the ambulance when it started to slow down and turned off the lights and the siren. Hutch said his heart literally leapt into his throat because he knew that they wouldn't have done that unless they had lost me. Then a split second later, his sheer terror turned to overwhelming relief when the ambulance suddenly accelerated again and the lights and siren came back on. Then he knew they had managed to revive me.
The second time was during the eight hour emergency surgery where the doctors struggled to put all the shattered pieces of my chest back into one piece and to repair the massive damage to my internal organs. My heart faltered several times and actually quit twice. The doctors had to replace almost my entire blood supply and they removed my spleen, part of my liver, a portion of my bowel, a section of my large intestine, my gall bladder, and a small part of my stomach. In addition, I had five broken ribs, three on the right side and two on the left that had actually been shattered by the impact of one of the bullets. I also had a shattered left shoulder blade, a broken collar bone, and severe nerve and muscle damage to both my chest and my left shoulder. Another concern was a bullet that had come dangerously close to my spine causing swelling of the spinal cord which carried with it the danger of permanent paralysis. All in all, I was a mess and the doctors held out little hope of my even surviving the surgery. They were all shocked when I did but they still told everybody that they needed to be prepared for the inevitable. It was just a matter of time before my heart gave out again, this time for good. They predicted that I would die sometime within the next twenty-four hours. Hutch told me later that in spite of what the doctors said, there was a part of him that refused to accept the fact that he could lose me. As long as I was alive, he had some hope to hold on to.
They moved me into the intensive care unit and all my friends and colleagues began a death watch, with Hutch planted in a chair right outside the window that overlooked my private room. My friend, Huggy Bear, and Captain Dobey both told me that Hutch refused to leave his vantage point. He just sat there staring through the window at me lying in that bed and refused to talk to anyone. Captain Dobey added that he was afraid of losing Hutch too if I died. We've always been so close, more like two halves of the same soul in separate bodies. If they lost me, nobody expected Hutch to last very long. Hell, if the situation had been reversed, I would have felt the same way Hutch did, as if I were losing a major part of myself that could never be replaced.
I guess it's a good thing Hutch was there because he managed to stop a second attempt on my life. That sent Blondie on a vendetta to find the person responsible for trying to have me killed. It gave him a direction to focus his anger and his pain in, something tangible to do. That meant he wasn't there in the hospital when my heart stopped again just like the doctor's predicted. But somehow, as if he sensed that my life hung in the balance, he chose that exact moment to call Captain Dobey to check on me.
When the Captain told him that he had better get back to the hospital right away, Hutch told me that he broke every speed limit in the city to get back to my side. Huggy Bear is the one who told me that the doctors had already shocked me three times with no response and were just about ready to give up and pronounce me dead when two things happened simultaneously, the doctor decided to give it one more try and Hutch came barreling through the doors that led to the ICU. Almost as if I had just been waiting for Hutch to get there, my heart started beating again. I was clinically dead for almost four minutes, any longer and the doctor said I would have suffered irreversible brain damage from a lack of oxygen.
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Being told that for all intents and purposes, you actually died three times does something to a man. I didn't experience any of those near death experiences you hear tell about, I didn't seen any bright light or hear my Pop or my beloved Terri calling for me. I have no memory of dying at all. Maybe that's for the best, just knowing that I did die is enough to give me a cold chill. But, still, dying and coming back to life changes a man. I guess you could say that I'm more cautious now and that some of the things that used to mean a lot to me don't mean that much to me anymore. These days I live my life to the fullest and enjoy myself more. I realize now that I am not invincible. I am acutely aware of my own mortality. I want to spend the time I have left with the people I love and I want to let them know how I really feel about them before it's too late. When the time comes to face my God, I want to do it with a clear conscience and a redeemed soul.
Yes, I do believe in God. Or at least in a higher power. I may not be a practicing Jew the way I should be. I haven't been in the Temple since my father died but in my own way, I do believe in the religious teachings I learned as a child. And after what I've been through, I have to believe in miracles.
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The doctors call me their 'miracle patient'. They gave up on me but I surprised them all and pulled through despite the tremendous odds against me. They don't know how I did it and neither do I. My Maw said that God decided I still a purpose to fulfill here on Earth. Hutch said it was an act of God, the answer to his own desperate prayers. Personally, I think I lived because of Hutch. I just couldn't leave him alone. I couldn't die because that would have been the same as killing Hutch too. Like Captain Dobey and Huggy, I believe that if I had died, Hutch would have found a way to join me in death. I know because that's what I would have done.
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Almost two weeks after the shooting, I finally managed to open my eyes for the first time. I don't know why that time it was different from all the other times I'd tried but it was. Maybe it was because I could hear the growing frustration and desperation in Hutch's voice. I'll never forget the look on his face when Hutch turned his head and realized that my eyes were open. His entire face just lit up with an overwhelming joy and he grabbed the nurse and began dancing her around the room. I couldn't believe what I was seeing, it was so unlike my normally reserved partner. It tickled me to see Hutch so happy. If it hadn't hurt so damn much, I would have laughed at such a sight. I was really groggy and disoriented, loaded to the gills with some heavy duty pain killers, but I think I managed a tiny twitch of my lips before I fell asleep.
In those first few days after I came out of the coma, I wished I could have just stayed unconscious. The pain was so overwhelming, even when they pumped me full of as many pain meds as they could without overdosing me, it didn't seem to help much. I was so weak I couldn't move. That's probably just as well since even a tiny involuntary jerk of my muscles was enough to make me scream out in pain. I didn't even have the strength to talk, all I could do was try to communicate my needs and my pain with my eyes. Luckily, that's one language that Hutch is proficient in.
He was there constantly, sitting at my side and talking to me even when I didn't seem to be paying attention. He'd gently rub my uninjured arm, or touch my face and that physical contact was the one thing I craved more than anything else. Hutch's touch had always been able to soothe me when I was in pain even when nothing else could. It was his voice and his touch that was keeping me from just giving up. He was holding me anchored to him and at the same time, anchored to the thread of life that I clung to so desperately.