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This is my first foray into writing, please be gentle.

Full Circle

by: CLR

"Life comes with no guarantees, no time outs, no second chances." –Unknown

My eyes open as I'm pushed down the halls of what has to be Rampart. My head is pounding. 'Great…another concussion.' I feel a hand on my shoulder and try to turn my head, but I can't. 'This keeps getting better and better…a cervical collar and backboard.' I know it's my partner; he's always there for me.

Brackett starts barking orders before I'm even transferred onto the exam table. The flurry of activity around me only increases the pounding in my head.

Unfortunately, I've been through this too many times to count. My mind wanders as they do what they're going to do anyway.

The oxygen mask makes me feel like I'm suffocating, but there's nothing I can do about it. I hear the steady beep of a heart monitor but don't understand why.

"Johnny….Johnny!" Brackett is trying to get my attention. "We're going to loosen the straps, but it's very important that you don't move."

I acknowledge him. 'Yeah Doc, I know the drill.' I feel the straps loosen and someone starts cutting off my clothes as Brackett starts asking me the standard questions. I answer as well as I can. Suddenly realizing that they only removed my clothes from the waist up…I frown as my eyes widen. In the background I can hear the heart monitor speeding up…

"Roy calm him down!"

I feel a warm hand on my chest, as I look into the concerned blue eyes of my best friend.

"It's okay Johnny…" he says over and over as he rubs gently. I close my eyes and relax focusing on the sound of his voice.

An X-ray tech comes in with the portable. By the time he's done, I think I must glow. I drift off waiting for everyone to return.

I hear voices murmuring in the background. I really don't pay any attention until I hear words like…cord compression…partial paralysis…and traction. The stupid heart monitor gives me away. Brackett and Early approach with their game faces on…this doesn't look good.

They give me the standard it's too early to tell spiel, followed by the we need to run a battery of tests spiel. Brackett leans down and puts his hand on my shoulder. When I see the twitch, I know how concerned he truly is. He asks how the pain is. Ironically, other than my head, I don't hurt anywhere. He gives my shoulder a pat and tells me to relax, and then leaves the room to order the tests.

It's just Roy and I in the room. He fills in the blanks in my memory, then retreats to lean against the counter. Quiet reigns.

I lie here unmoving…thinking about life. It comes with three certainties—you're born, you live, and you die. Everything else is variable. The first two I have experienced...the last, hopefully not for many years to come.

Being a firefighter, I always thought that when, 'and with my luck, I do mean when,' I suffered a career-ending injury…it would be fighting the beast. Who would have ever thought it would be while trying to contain some strung-out junkie from protecting his stash from the police.

So now I'm here…not sure if I'll ever walk again...pondering life.

Staff streams in and out of the treatment room as if I'm some rare exhibit at the zoo. Their eyes look either sad and concerned or blank and lifeless. No one knows what to say…I understand. I'm not sure what to say either.

Roy leans against the counter, chewing his lower lip. He has run his hand through his hair so many times I think he'll be bald before the night is through. I know the guys are in the hall, watching the treatment room door as if it can provide all the answers. I know they will be there for me whether I ever walk again…couldn't ask for a better crew.

Orderlies come in with a gurney…time for another test. I have no choice whether I want to go with them or not...it needs to be done. They take me up to radiology for a CT scan and soon I'm positioned how they want me…pinned like a butterfly about to be placed in a display case. When done, the tech pats my shoulder…doing what he can to let me know its okay. I'm not sure it will ever be okay again.

Firefighters from other stations have arrived and line the hallways. A hush precedes my passage. As we near the ER, my crewmates converge and pat my hand…my leg…my shoulder…lending their support. As if this gives blanket permission, other firemen soon start to lay their hands on me. Showing me the depth and breadth of this brotherhood I belong to.

Dixie settles me back in the treatment room…her blues eyes filled with compassion. She has always been the big sister I never had. I give her a shadow of the famous Gage grin.

It's kind of ironic…it's like my body won't move, so neither will my mouth. I usually don't have trouble finding things to talk about, even if they are inane. For the life of me, I can't think of anything to talk about.

Roy says he's going to call Joanne. I tell him not to, at least until we know something. He shakes his head muttering something about taking his life into his own hands and exits the room.

Cap and the guys come in. They gather round my head so I can see them all. I know what their reactions will be…I'm not disappointed. Cap, who is more like a father to us all even though he's not old enough to be, looks at me in concern. His hands rub together as if he's ready to just dive in and fix me. Mike tells me he already has a rotation put together to care for my horses…he knows I worry about them. Marco stands off to my other side, I can't see his hands, but I know he has one hand in his pocket rubbing at the St. Christopher medal he carries. His lips move infinitesimally as he recites a prayer. Chet, his moustache drawn, shifts from foot to foot. He tries to act like he doesn't care…but I know if I ask for anything…he will get it for me before anyone else can.

Roy and Joanne come in. Joanne plants a kiss on my forehead, the tears gathering in her eyes. I try to assure her that I'll be fine…she just nods her head and starts stroking my hair as if I were her child.

As I lay there, my career in the balance I realize I truly will be okay. For most of my life, I was an orphan…but now my family is huge and they will see me through this.

Hours—which felt like a lifetime later…

Everyone…and I do mean everyone filters into the treatment room...it looks like a convention. They all stand solemnly as Brackett approaches and says that it is not permanent.

Tears course down my cheeks as I realize how truly blessed I am. I know there will be months of pain and rehabilitation, but I'll gladly suffer through it so I can do what I'm supposed to do…go back to work and take care of my brothers…like they take care of me.

The end