Struck Down, But Not Destroyed
Okay, here's my attempt at a new Romano story. I will eventually finish Baby of Mine, I know I've kind of abandoned it, but I'm lacking any creative ideas on how to finish it off. So in the meantime, I though I'd write this. I've been re-watching season 9 on TNT, and have recently seen Foreign Affairs and When Night Meets Day again.
Just thought I'd include a Bible verse to go along with the title, since that's where I got it from...
2 Corinthians 4:8
We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.
Disclaimer: I know, I know. I don't own ER, or any of the characters. I think we all know that. If I did, would Romano be dead? I don't think so.
Reviews are always appreciated. Hope you like it................
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Robert lay flat on his back staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom. It was nearly two in the morning. As much as he had tried, sleep would not come to him, so instead he just lay there, alone with his thoughts. There was no point in sleeping now, since he needed to get up in about two hours. He was due at the hospital at quarter after five.
Now normally, even though that hospital was filled to the brim with imbeciles and idiot doctors who had no idea how to practice medicine, normally he didn't mind going into the hospital. Though his current job as ER chief wasn't nearly as exciting and stimulating as his previous job as OR chief, and Chief of Staff, he had slowly and stubbornly grown accustomed to the familiarity it offered. It wasn't surgery, but the job did have some perks, and he did still get to see Elizabeth, since she was on trauma call nearly every day.
But today was very different from other days. Today he wasn't going in to work. Today he wouldn't get to harass and insult the nurses, make unreal demands on all the med students, or even yell at Pratt, because today he would be going through the doors of Cook County General as a patient, not as the notorious Dr. Romano whom everyone feared and tried to avoid.
He rolled over onto his side, putting his charred arm out in front of him. Of course it was bandaged up, but he knew exactly what it looked like under all those bandages. A small sigh escaped his lips as he closed his eyes, trying once more to get the rest that his body much needed.
A few short minutes later he finally drifted off to sleep, his exhaustion winning out over his anxiety regarding the surgery.
But his restful sleep didn't last for long. At around 3:30 Robert sat bolt upright in bed, soaked in his own sweat and trembling. Immediately his good arm reached out for the bad one, hoping that what had taken place in his dream was just that, a dream. But he had experienced that very same dream many times before, so he knew better to even really hope this time, and when his hand felt the smooth cloth of the bandage that covered his severely burnt arm, his very last ounce of hope was ripped away from him in one quick second. His hand felt up and down the charred flesh that hung off his shoulder, and as he thought about what tomorrow would be like when he woke up from the surgery without his arm, a few tears fell from his eyes, landing on his cheeks. He quickly brushed them away and climbed out of bed to go take a long shower. There was no way he would go back to sleep now.
Okay, here's my attempt at a new Romano story. I will eventually finish Baby of Mine, I know I've kind of abandoned it, but I'm lacking any creative ideas on how to finish it off. So in the meantime, I though I'd write this. I've been re-watching season 9 on TNT, and have recently seen Foreign Affairs and When Night Meets Day again.
Just thought I'd include a Bible verse to go along with the title, since that's where I got it from...
2 Corinthians 4:8
We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.
Disclaimer: I know, I know. I don't own ER, or any of the characters. I think we all know that. If I did, would Romano be dead? I don't think so.
Reviews are always appreciated. Hope you like it................
*************************************************************
Robert lay flat on his back staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom. It was nearly two in the morning. As much as he had tried, sleep would not come to him, so instead he just lay there, alone with his thoughts. There was no point in sleeping now, since he needed to get up in about two hours. He was due at the hospital at quarter after five.
Now normally, even though that hospital was filled to the brim with imbeciles and idiot doctors who had no idea how to practice medicine, normally he didn't mind going into the hospital. Though his current job as ER chief wasn't nearly as exciting and stimulating as his previous job as OR chief, and Chief of Staff, he had slowly and stubbornly grown accustomed to the familiarity it offered. It wasn't surgery, but the job did have some perks, and he did still get to see Elizabeth, since she was on trauma call nearly every day.
But today was very different from other days. Today he wasn't going in to work. Today he wouldn't get to harass and insult the nurses, make unreal demands on all the med students, or even yell at Pratt, because today he would be going through the doors of Cook County General as a patient, not as the notorious Dr. Romano whom everyone feared and tried to avoid.
He rolled over onto his side, putting his charred arm out in front of him. Of course it was bandaged up, but he knew exactly what it looked like under all those bandages. A small sigh escaped his lips as he closed his eyes, trying once more to get the rest that his body much needed.
A few short minutes later he finally drifted off to sleep, his exhaustion winning out over his anxiety regarding the surgery.
But his restful sleep didn't last for long. At around 3:30 Robert sat bolt upright in bed, soaked in his own sweat and trembling. Immediately his good arm reached out for the bad one, hoping that what had taken place in his dream was just that, a dream. But he had experienced that very same dream many times before, so he knew better to even really hope this time, and when his hand felt the smooth cloth of the bandage that covered his severely burnt arm, his very last ounce of hope was ripped away from him in one quick second. His hand felt up and down the charred flesh that hung off his shoulder, and as he thought about what tomorrow would be like when he woke up from the surgery without his arm, a few tears fell from his eyes, landing on his cheeks. He quickly brushed them away and climbed out of bed to go take a long shower. There was no way he would go back to sleep now.