Author's Note: Plushchrome will be going on vacation for a week, so it might be awhile before our next post. I'll work on what I can, but this is a joint effort so I won't post anything without her approval. Sorry!
Chapter 3: Diagnosis
Davy was starting to get annoyed and desperately wanted to leave this room and find his friends. The doctors had not yet told him anything about any of them and the last time he'd seen Mike, he'd still been out cold and he was still bleeding from a large wound on his head. The medics had tried to stop the bleeding, but had only really been successful in slowing it down. Mike's arms had been scraped and torn up like Davy's and his breathing was slow and irregular. Between Mike's condition and not knowing how close Micky and Peter had been to that explosion, Davy was going crazy.
Instead of letting Davy see his friends, they were running endless amounts of tests on him. Davy kept insisting he was fine and that the only thing that really hurt was his arm and head a little. They got a blood sample from him filling up around 3 vials and they sent him for an x-ray of his arm and neck. The police had come in asking him dozens of questions about the accident, though he kept insisting he couldn't remember much; just that they'd been hit and spun out of control. He neglected to tell them Micky hadn't exactly been sitting down when it happened. He'd just returned from a CT scan of his head and now he was pacing back and forth in the room despite the fact the doctors and nurses kept telling him to sit still. When the doctor came in about half an hour after the CT scan, he insisted Davy sit down on the edge of the bed.
"You need to relax," the doctor said. "You're just going to work yourself up into a frenzy and stress yourself out. And if you're stressed, you're never going to heal."
"I'm fine," Davy argued. "I just want to know how my friends are. I want to see them."
"We've been over this, Mr. Jones," the doctor answered. "You cannot see them until you are medically cleared yourself and I cannot tell you what their condition is until I know and not without their permission."
"That's ridiculous!" Davy exclaimed getting angry again that he was being kept in the dark. "We were in the same accident! We've lived together for 2 years!"
"I understand that, Mr. Jones," the doctor said irritably. "But I have to abide by the law. I cannot disclose a patient's information without his consent. All I can tell you is that they are alive and are being treated. We have some of the best doctors on staff; they are in good hands. Now please, sit down." Davy's head throbbed and as much as he wanted to continue arguing, he just didn't have the energy. And he could almost hear Mike's voice in the back of his head telling him it was no use arguing with this doctor and to just let it go, so he reluctantly moved to the bed and sat down.
"I told you, I'm fine," Davy said. "Just a headache and my arm hurts."
"Your arm is fractured in 3 places," the doctor said. "That's why it hurts. Luckily we won't have to reset it, but it does need to be in a cast for a few months. Your brain bounced against the inside of your skull slightly and there is some swelling. Shouldn't be too major, but I would like to keep you overnight for observation just in case."
"I can't see my friends if I stay overnight," Davy argued.
"You can't see them until morning anyway," the doctor answered matter-of-factly. "Visiting hours are long since over and they are all still being treated for their injuries."
"Can you at least tell me if they're going to be ok?" Davy asked. The doctor sighed heavily and closed Davy's chart before setting it aside on the counter.
"Mr. Jones, are you going to be able to get any rest if I don't tell you?" he asked.
"Not really," Davy admitted. "They're my best mates. I would do anything for them. Give anything for them. Even my life. That's closer than most family members even are. And I promise that I will not give up until I know they are at least going to be ok."
"Mr. Dolenz and Mr. Tork do not have life threatening injuries," the doctor finally said. "That is not to say they do not have serious injuries. From what I hear, Mr. Tork would be dead were it not for Mr. Dolenz. He apparently pulled Mr. Tork from the car moments before it exploded and then used his own body as a shield to protect Mr. Tork further. Their injuries will heal, but it will take time."
"And Mike?" Davy asked feeling a little more at ease knowing that at least Micky and Peter would be ok; thanks to Micky.
"Mr. Nesmith's condition is still critical," the doctor answered and instantly Davy's unease came back. "He has a major injury that could go either way. It is too early to tell, but I will let you know what I can in the morning. For now, I will have someone come put a cast on your arm and give you some pain killers. Now, are you going to lay down and try and get some sleep once they are finished or do I need to ask the nurses to sedate you?"
"I..." Davy stammered. What did the doctor mean when he said Mike's injury could go either way? Did that mean Mike could die?
"Mr. Jones, I know you are worried about your friends, but there's nothing you can do for them right now," the doctor said. "Staying awake all night stressing and worrying about them isn't going to help them any."
"I know that," Davy answered solemnly.
"Alright, I'll have the nurse give you a little something to help you sleep," the doctor answered.
"What about the other driver?" Davy asked suddenly as the doctor was about to leave. "Is he ok?"
"He is remarkably relatively unharmed," the doctor answered. "Few bumps and bruises, but that's all."
"How is that possible?" Davy asked remembering the wreckage. He felt a little anger boil in him, too. If Mike was lingering on the edge, why was it that the other guy was unharmed? It didn't seem fair at all.
"I don't know the full story yet," the doctor answered. "The police are still conducting their investigation. Get some sleep, Mr. Jones. I'll see you in the morning." Davy sighed and laid down on the bed. He felt tired, but he was too worried and angry to really relax enough to fall asleep. Nurses came in to give him medications and put his arm in a cast. The nurse was very attractive and normally Davy would have tried to get her phone number at the very least, but his brain was too preoccupied. Part of him thought about trying to sneak out to see his friends, but he had no idea where they were. He was terrified that Mike might not be ok and he desperately wanted to make sure Micky and Peter were going to be ok. He knew the doctor had told him they'd be fine, but until he could actually see them how could he really be sure?
As the nurse instructed him to take a few pills, his thoughts turned to the other driver. How could the other driver be unharmed? Davy remembered the force of the blow on their car; surely the other car had to have been nearly totalled in order to have pushed their car off a cliff and cause it to explode. How could anyone walk away from something like that unharmed? If Mike, Micky and Davy had all been thrown from the car with the force of the impact, how was it possible the other driver only had bruises and cuts? What had even happened to cause the accident? Was it the other driver's fault or Mike's? Davy tried to push that out of his mind. Of course it wasn't Mike's fault. He was a good driver. He was the most responsible out of all of them.
Davy laid back down under the sheets and closed his eyes after the nurse left leaving the room empty. The blankets were warm and comfortable and he finally felt his body begin to relax. But his mind wouldn't. It couldn't relax until he had assurance that his friends were ok. He felt a small tear run down the side of his face, but didn't bother wiping it away. He was alone, so it didn't matter if anyone saw him crying for his friends. As his mind drifted slowly off to sleep, those words swam through his head. He was alone.
Micky groaned as he opened his eyes and the light stung his eyes. As he quickly snapped his eyes shut, he felt someone place a hand gently on his shoulder and heard a soft mumble off in the distance, but couldn't make anything out. His head was swimming as consciousness was coming back to him. They'd been in an accident and Davy, Mike and Peter had been hurt. Davy was with Mike and Micky had been trying to wrest Peter from the overturned wreckage of their rental car at the bottom of a cliff.
"Peter!" Micky exclaimed bolting upright and trying to focus his eyes.
"Micky!" called a familiar voice. It still sounded far away, but Micky could feel a hand gently try and push him back down. "Relax. Lay back down. Peter's here in the hospital with us. You saved him."
"What?" Micky asked turning to look at the person talking to him. It took a second to realize Davy was standing right next to him. He looked very worried and as he spoke again, his voice was full of concern.
"Please, lie back down," Davy pled pushing a little harder on Micky to get him to lie back down. "We're in the hospital."
"The hospital?" Micky echoed letting Davy guide him back down. It was then that he realized he was indeed lying on a hospital bed in a room filled with white. So much white it was almost blinding. "Can someone turn the lights down or something?"
"Sure," Davy said and rushed over to the wall before flicking a switch. One of the lights went off and the room didn't seem as bright anymore.
"What happened?" Micky asked.
"You don't remember?" Davy asked cautiously.
"No, I remember the accident," Micky answered. "Last thing I remember is Peter in the car. He was trapped and I was trying to get him out. The car was on fire."
"You got him out," Davy answered with a smile. "He's alive, thanks to you. He's here with us. They won't let me see him yet though."
"He's ok?" Micky asked hopefully.
"That's what they tell me," Davy answered.
"And Mike?" Micky asked. Davy didn't really answer, so Micky turned to look at him. His face had fallen and he looked like he was about to cry. Micky also suddenly saw that his arm was in a sling with a cast.
"They won't tell me anything about him," Davy finally said.
"What about you?" Micky asked indicating the cast and sling.
"This is nothing," Davy said brushing it off. "They said I fractured my arm in three places."
"What!?" Micky exclaimed. "That's not nothing!"
"I'll be fine!" Davy protested. "It's nothing! I'm more worried about you."
"I actually don't feel any pain," Micky answered. "I feel fine."
"That's because they gave you a lot of pain killers," Davy answered. "They won't really tell me what all is wrong with you because I'm not family, but a nurse came in here an hour ago to check on you and give you more medication in your IV." Micky looked up at a bag of fluid hanging above his head and realized he had an IV needle in his arm and a bunch of monitors attached to his other arm. A soft knock came at the door as Micky tried to unplug himself a little not realizing before how uncomfortable it all was.
"Don't do that," Davy said swatting his hands away after telling the person on the other side of the door it was safe to come in.
"I see you're awake, Mr. Dolenz," said a man in a white coat Micky assumed to be his doctor.
"Yes, and I'm fine, so can you unplug me?" Micky answered irritably.
"Not just yet," the doctor answered as Davy once again slammed Micky's arm away from the blood pressure cuff on his arm.
"Stop that!" Davy protested. "Don't make me hit you with my cast!"
"Look, I'm not in pain," Micky sighed. "I'm fine. Can you let me go?"
"Unfortunately you're not fine, Mr. Dolenz," the doctor said sternly. "You don't feel pain because we've numbed quite a bit of your body and given you some high dose painkillers."
"What's wrong with him?" Davy asked. "Can you tell me now? He's awake and he's giving his consent."
"Davy," Micky started. He wasn't really sure he wanted Davy to hear all of what was wrong with him, but the look on Davy's face made Micky swallow his words. Davy didn't really have to say anything for Micky to know that Davy was torturing himself not knowing what was wrong with them and if they'd be ok. Micky felt it too; after all, the accident was his fault. So he relented and stopped fighting.
"Mr. Dolenz, are you ok with Mr. Jones being here?" the doctor asked.
"Of course I am," Micky answered resting his head back against the comfortable pillow. "He's like my little brother. My annoying little brother." Micky didn't have to look at Davy to know the look Davy had given him. Normally Davy would have said something back, but Micky knew Davy was too concerned to retort.
"Alright then," the doctor said with a small chuckle at the boys' banter and consulted the chart he held in front of him. "You have some small swelling in your brain like your friend Davy, but it should go down within a week or two."
"You didn't say anything about that, Davy," Micky scolded.
"It's minor," Davy brushed it off. "Doctor said mine will heal in a week, too."
"They're just concussions," the doctor assured Micky. "Most they'll do is impair your thinking or memory. You have a small second degree burn on your leg and a large first degree burn on your back. You have some lacerations over most of your body, but most are minor and will heal quickly. I've already started you on some antibiotics to prevent infection. The biggest lacerations are on your chest where we pulled a few pieces of glass out."
"Glass?" Davy echoed anxiously.
"I think that's from me climbing in the car to get Peter," Micky said. "But he said they'll heal. Don't worry about it, Davy. Is that all, doc?"
"Not quite," the doctor answered. "It seems you also have a few fractured ribs. They aren't too bad and should heal over time."
"Fractured ribs?" Davy asked. "From falling out of the car?"
"I don't see how," Micky said. "I didn't feel any pain in my chest before I went to get Peter."
"Near as we can tell, you were hit with debris when the car exploded," the doctor said. "You wouldn't have been able to breath very well if it had happened before that. It's probably why you lost consciousness again."
"So you really saved Peter," Davy smiled. "The cops said you shielded him with your own body. If you hadn't, who knows what could have happened to Peter."
"Is he awake yet?" Micky asked the doctor desperately wanting to see his friend.
"Not yet," the doctor answered. "We have him under a light sedation for now to allow some better healing. I'm sure you can see him tomorrow."
"What's wrong with him?" Micky asked.
"They won't tell us anything," Davy grumbled. "We aren't family so they can't say anything."
"But we are family," Micky protested.
"Not legally, unfortunately," the doctor said. "I am very sorry, but your friend is right. All I can say is that Mr. Tork is under sedation and he will heal with time."
"What about Mike?" Micky asked.
"I can't say anything more than he's in critical condition still," the doctor answered.
"They said he could go either way," Davy grumbled again. "Not that I even understand what that means."
"It means we don't know if his injuries are going to heal properly," the doctor answered. "If they do at all."
"So you don't know if he's going to live or die?" Micky asked.
"Unfortunately, no," the doctor answered. Micky felt terror grip him and he wanted to scream. The accident had been his fault. If he hadn't been messing around with the car, Mike would have seen that stop sign and stopped. Davy wouldn't have an arm fractured in three places. Peter wouldn't need to be sedated. And Mike would be at home practicing his guitar instead of fighting just to live.