The Lighter Side…of Getting Hurt
Chapter 4…Hank
Waking up, Hank sat up in bed, and slowly stretched his long arms overhead. As much as he loved his wife and kids, he was happy to have the house to himself for the next five days. Suzanne had taken their two teenaged children with her to San Diego to spend time with her sister, leaving Hank to enjoy some well-deserved alone time.
Though he had a mental list of a few things that he wanted to do or accomplish over the next few days, Hank really didn't have anything set in stone. He was content to just enjoy each day as it came. Glancing over at his clock radio, he noted the time as seven o'clock in the morning. Deciding to get out of bed to get an early start on his day, Hank pushed back the comforter, and unfolded his tall frame from out of the bed.
Running his long fingers through his wavy dark hair, he made his way to the bathroom. After taking care of business, and washing up, he looked into the mirror over the sink, and smiled. Today would be a good day. Putting on his purple bathrobe, a recent Father's Day gift from the kids, purple for royalty they said, Hank headed for the stairs to get something to eat. On the way, he happened to pass by his son Steven's room, and looking in, spotted the new Duncan yo-yo that Steven had gotten a few weeks earlier. Smiling to himself, Hank went inside the room, and took the yo-yo from the top of the dresser. The yo-yo in his right hand, he proceeded down the stairs to the living room.
Putting his right index finger into the loop at the end of the string, Hank tried to make the yo-yo go up and down a few times. When he saw that he was successful at that maneuver, he decided to become more daring, and tried to attempt the trick where the yo-yo goes out and does a loopty-loop before returning to the hand. Hank started the trick, but it didn't go quite as planned…he ended up getting the yo-yo back at his face instead, hitting his left eye. Dropping the small orb on the floor, he immediately brought his left hand up to his eye.
"Ow…oooo…yikes." Those were the first words out of his mouth. There were other ones that he had wanted to say, and he thought that maybe those would come a little later, but for now he was content with 'ow.'
Wanting to see what kind of state his eye was in, Hank turned around and headed back to his bedroom to look in his mirror. When he saw his reflection looking back at him, he wasn't concerned as the eye didn't seem to be too bad. It was a little puffy, but nothing else. Going into the bathroom, he went to the sink and splashed some cold water over the eye. Content that his eye was okay, he returned downstairs.
In the kitchen, he pulled out a bowl, a spoon, the container of milk from the refrigerator, and the box of Rice Krispies. Once he poured the milk into the bowl, and the popping sound started, Hank started to think of his crew. He had remembered an argument that Chet and Johnny had had a few months earlier about whether or not the cereal's popping sound was some sort of code…Chet said it was, Johnny thought Chet was nuts.
Sitting down at the table, Hank started to eat. Despite the slight ache in his eye, he felt pretty good, and was ready to take on the world. He decided while eating that the first thing he wanted to do when he was finished, was to go out to his car and check the engine. There were a few adjustments that he wanted to make.
Finishing his cereal, he brought the bowl and spoon to the sink, and quickly washed them. Since it would only be him home for the next few days, he felt that there was no sense in using the dishwasher. Placing the two items in the dish rack to air dry, Hank retreated to his bedroom to change into a pair of jeans and tee shirt. Happily dressing, he decided that a steak for dinner would be a wonderful idea, and made the next project after tinkering with his car's engine, getting out the steak and marinating it for a few hours.
Looking outside at how beautiful it was, Hank deemed wearing anything on his feet unnecessary, and so after getting his tool box from the hallway closet, made his way out to his car parked in the driveway. Putting up the hood, he bent down to reach some of his tools, and started to work. Tightening this, and tightening that, he also checked his oil. When he was almost finished, he stood hunched over the engine, peering down to see if there was anything else he wanted to check. It was at this point that something on the hood got a little loose, and started to come down on him…on his head and left shoulder, causing him to also bang his elbow.
Catching the hood with his right hand, he was able to maneuver it back up into place. For the second time that morning, he rubbed his sore spots, and grimaced. This time he used slightly stronger language. "Damn," he said quite loudly.
Moving his left arm a bit to test his left shoulder, Hank was aware that it had become a bit sore, as was his elbow. Rubbing the top of his head, he was able to feel a small bump developing.
Sighing in frustration, the fire captain looked up at the sky, almost pleadingly. "I don't ask for much, do I? A few quiet days at home by myself…that's ALL I want, okay?"
Replacing the tools back into the box, he gently closed the hood. Picking up the filthy rag that had been used, from the ground, Hank decided to throw it out. With his trusty tool box in his right hand, he walked over to where the garbage cans were, and threw out the old dirty cloth. Not really watching where he was going, on the way back to the front door, he had somehow managed to step on a piece of glass.
With the surprise of the glass being crunched under his left foot, Hank started to lose his balance, but caught himself before falling. He was relieved too, as he did have the tool box in his hand. Things would not have been pretty if he had actually fallen. Checking his foot, he saw that it was bleeding a bit.
"What else could happen," he muttered to himself.
Limping into the house, Hank put the tool box down on the floor next to the front door, and carefully went up the stairs to the bathroom to clean up his foot.
Sitting on the toilet seat, the lid down, he grabbed a wad of toilet paper from the roller, and lifted his left foot up to examine it. The glass was not in his foot, and the cut wasn't really that bad. Dabbing the foot with the balled up wad of paper, he tried to wipe away some of the blood. He then got up to reach into the medicine cabinet for the disinfectant and bandages.
Once he was content that his foot was taken care of, he decided to return to the kitchen to brew a fresh pot of coffee. Taking a careful first step down the stairs, Hank realized that he was overcompensating for his wounded left foot, and vowed to take the rest of the stairs very slowly. Then it happened. As much as the thoughts about being careful entered his mind…he found himself slipping down the rest of the stairs. Landing on his rear end at the bottom of the staircase, Hank was starting to get mad, but instead of cursing, which really wasn't in his nature, he started to laugh instead.
When he slowly maneuvered himself up off the floor, he quickly realized that it was now his right knee and ankle that hurt. Though it was a little painful, he was able to make it to the kitchen…limping all the way there. Plugging in the new Mr. Coffee coffeemaker, he set it up to brew a fresh pot, like he had wanted in the first place.
After waiting a few minutes, Hank poured himself a cup of coffee in his favorite mug, and slowly made his way to the kitchen table to sit his now tired and achy body, down. Reaching for the sugar bowl on the table, he felt a sudden twinge of pain in his banged up left shoulder, and jerking his arm against the pain, knocked over his coffee mug, causing some of the very hot coffee to burn his right hand that had been resting carefully on the table for support.
"Ahh….not again."
Dragging himself to the kitchen sink, Hank ran cold water on his right hand.
"Boy, that really smarts."
Sighing loudly, he decided that he would be better off just lying down for a while, not doing anything. Forgetting about the spilled coffee on the table, he slowly walked to his favorite recliner in the living room, and carefully lowered himself into the chair.
Exhaling loudly, he was relieved to finally be off of his feet, and with no other possible way to get hurt. Turning his head, Hank peered out the open window that overlooked his front porch. It was then that he noticed his neighbor Jimmy Hogan approaching the front door.
Wanting to be neighborly, Hank attempted to get out of the recliner to meet his friend at the door, but abandoned the idea quickly when he felt a sudden and intense pain in his lower and middle back.
Calling out the window, Hank got the other man's attention.
"Jimmy…come on in…door's open."
Entering the house, Jimmy's eyes got real big when he took in the sight of Hank sitting in the recliner.
"My God, Hank…what's wrong? You look awful."
Continuing to grimace, Hank's appearance was cause for his neighbor to be concerned. He started to pale and perspire, and seemed to be in some obvious distress.
Before Hank could answer, Jimmy took it upon himself to call for help. Dialing the number to the Los Angeles County Fire Department, he reported a man down call. Hanging up the phone, he returned to his friend.
"I called for help, Hank. The paramedics should be here real soon."
Nodding his head, in too much discomfort to talk at the moment, the one thing that Hank could think of was that he was glad that Roy and John were currently off-duty.
"Thanks," came the gritted out response.
"I'll wait outside for them. You just try to relax."
Going outside to wait, it was only about seven minutes later that the paramedics arrived.
Looking out the window, Hank noticed the numbers on the squad…51. Though he was not exactly thrilled that his own station was responding, he was at least glad that his paramedics would not be the ones who were handling his call.
Well aware that the address was their captain's, Roy and John, who were pulling some overtime, were both more than a bit concerned as to what was going on.
"Hi there. Sure glad you fellas are here. It's my neighbor Hank." Jimmy greeted in a calm voice.
Hearing that it was in fact their captain who was in need of help, the two paramedics quickly grabbed their equipment and followed the other man inside the house.
"Cap…what's going on?" Both paramedics called out in unison.
Recognizing both voices, Hank opened his eyes to see HIS two paramedics standing in front of him.
"It's a really long story, guys. Could you just help me? Maybe give me something to put me out of my misery?"
"Is it that bad, Cap?" Johnny asked.
Giving the junior medic an almost annoyed look, Hank softly said, "If it wasn't, would you two be here right now, you twit?"
"Okay, just relax. Could you just tell us what happened first? Then we'll take your vitals and call Rampart."
"What's the difference, WHAT happened, Roy?"
"Cap…we have to know what happened, before we can treat you. Just give us the basics."
Noticing their captain's left eye starting to become black and blue, and swollen, the two paramedics continued to try and get the details of what had happened to leave Hank in this condition.
"Well…" Hank relented. "Basically it's my back…my lower and middle back…and my right knee and ankle…and left shoulder and elbow. I also hit my head, cut my left foot, burned my right hand…and uh…hurt my eye, as you can see."
"Did you get into a fight or something?" Johnny asked.
"No fight, pal. It's a really long story. I'll tell you later."
"You hit your head, and now your back hurts? Hate to say it, Cap…but Rampart might order full spinal precautions, especially if it ends up being Morton on the other end of the line."
"John, if you're trying to help me feel better…it's not working."
Trying to get things moving a bit, Roy looked over at his partner. "Johnny, get Rampart on the line…I'll get his vitals. We have enough information to get started."
As Johnny got the hospital on the phone, Roy set about taking Hank's blood pressure and pulse.
"Rampart, this is Squad 51. How do you read?"
"Go ahead, 51…I read you loud and clear."
Recognizing the voice on the other end of the phone, Johnny shook his head, and then mouthed the words "it's Brackett."
"Rampart, we have a male, age 37 suffering from severe lower and mid back pain. He also has other injuries…left knee and ankle, left elbow and shoulder, black eye, as well as cut on right foot, and a burn to his right hand. Patient is alert and coherent, but in substantial pain. Stand by for vitals."
"51, was patient in a car accident or other type of accident?"
"Negative, Rampart. Patient apparently had several mishaps at his home. Stand by."
"Ten-four, 51."
Unbeknownst to Hank, on the other end of the line, Doctor Kelly Brackett was exchanging curious glances with Dixie and Doctor Early.
"Roy, you have his vitals?" Johnny asked.
"Yeah, vitals are…"
Getting back on the line, Johnny repeated the additional information to Rampart.
Waiting for their treatment orders, both paramedics kept looking at Hank waiting for him to fill in some of the very substantial blanks.
"Cap, what do you say…tell us what happened? It's for your own good, you know."
Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, Hank knew that his junior paramedic was right, and that he needed to come clean about the whole story.
"I…I fell down the stairs…slipped really. That's how I hurt my knee and ankle. I hit my head, shoulder, and elbow when the hood of my car fell on me. I stepped on some glass outside, and I burned my hand when I knocked over my coffee cup. Satisfied?"
"What about your eye?" Roy asked curiously.
"Attempted a yo-yo trick…I missed. I hurt my back just sitting here. I tried to get up from the chair…and I couldn't. So no spinal cautions will be needed."
Examining Hank's other injuries they were relieved that things didn't appear to be too serious.
Getting back on the phone, Johnny relayed the final pieces to the puzzle, and then received the treatment orders.
"Ten-four, Rampart. ETA is about ten minutes," said Johnny as he looked up and noticed the ambulance pulling up.
Hanging up the phone, Johnny relayed the orders to his partner.
"Cap, Brackett wants an IV on you…then we can give you something to help with the pain. Just relax, okay…I'll be as gentle as I can."
Closing his eyes, Hank leaned his head back. Although he knew Roy was a very experienced paramedic, and good at what he did, as Hank had remembered from the downed wires experience, he still wasn't exactly looking forward to getting a needle in his arm for the dreaded IV.
Swabbing Hank's arm down with an alcohol swab, Roy prepared the IV.
"Okay, Cap…just relax."
Try as he may, Hank couldn't relax…he was in too much discomfort, and the embarrassment of having his paramedics seeing him in this condition was just too much for him.
In no time, Roy had the IV inserted and the pain medication going as well.
"I think we're all set here. Jimmy, is it? You wanna go outside and have the ambulance attendants come inside, please?"
Eager to help, the other man nodded his head, and did as Roy asked him.
"And to think you did this to yourself, John?" Hank asked, referring to the paramedic starting his own IV after he had gotten bitten by the rattlesnake.
Smiling reassuringly, Johnny patted his captain's arm. "Piece of cake. Relax, Cap…you're in good hands. The doctors and nurses will take good care of you…as you already know."
The paramedics knew that getting Hank off of the chair and onto the stretcher would not be easy, and probably rather painful for their captain.
"This might hurt a bit, but we'll try to do it as slowly and gently as possible."
Hank again closed his eyes tightly and let what needed to be done, be done.
Despite still being in pain, he was now safely on the stretcher and fastened in, a blanket covering him up.
"Let's get you outta here, Cap. We'll call Suzanne from the hospital."
"No we won't, John. If I call her about this, I'll never hear the end of it."
"Jimmy, you mind locking up for us?" Roy asked Hank's neighbor.
"No, not at all. Hank, I'll take care of everything here, and meet you at the hospital a little later."
"Thanks, buddy." Hank replied with a grimace.
Outside, the two paramedics exchanged glances with each other as they were deciding which one of them would go in the ambulance with Hank. It was decided that Roy would go with their captain, a decision that Hank wholeheartedly agreed with. Not that he had anything against Johnny, as he too was an experienced and capable paramedic, it was just that under the circumstances he felt that Roy would be a little less annoying.
"Meet you at Rampart," called out Johnny as he closed the ambulance doors.
On the way to the hospital, Roy was finally able to pry from the captain, the entire story of the morning…things that happened in a span of about two hours.
Though he had found the entire story to be quite unbelievable, Roy didn't laugh or even crack a smile, though he wanted to.
"Well, I'm sorry that you had to go through all of this, especially when you were looking so much forward to your time off alone."
"I appreciate that, Roy. Just promise me that you OR Gage won't call my wife…PLEASE, " Hank pleaded.
"Why don't we play things by ear…see what the doctor says?"
Backing into Rampart's E.R. entrance, the ambulance stopped, and the doors were opened.
In what was a blur to Hank, the stretcher was removed from the ambulance, and he was whisked away to a treatment room, met by Doctor Brackett.
"Captain Stanley?" The doctor asked with surprise, despite obviously recognizing who his patient was.
"Yeah, it's me, Doc. Just shoot me, please."
Smiling understandably, Kel nodded his head, and patted the captain on the shoulder.
"You'll be fine, don't worry."
After helping transfer Hank onto the exam bed, Roy gave his captain a reassuring smile, and left the room, meeting his partner out in the hallway.
"How is he?" Johnny asked with genuine concern.
"Not feeling so well, at the moment, but he'll be fine, Johnny. It doesn't seem to be anything too serious."
"What do you mean?"
"Let's grab a cup of coffee, and I'll tell you the whole story."
Following Roy into the staff lounge, Johnny poured two cups of coffee, and handed one to his partner.
"So…what the heck happened to him?"
Bit by bit, Roy shared the details of how Hank's unfortunate morning unfolded.
"Wow. That's all I can say right now. All of that really happened to him?"
Johnny was in a state of disbelief. He had never known his captain to be clumsy, or even ever have a bad streak of luck.
"Are we going to call Suzanne?"
Roy shook his head. "I promised Captain Stanley that we wouldn't…at least not until we know what's going on with him. It didn't seem to be anything too serious. He'll probably receive a muscle relaxant for his back, and after tests are done to see what else may be going on with his other injuries, will be admitted to sleep off his pain and discomfort. I think we should call all the guys later to let them know what happened. Maybe if he's feeling a little better later, they can come for a visit."
"Sounds like a good idea."
Finishing their coffee, the two men rinsed out their cups, and left them in the sink.
Returning to the base station area, they were met by Dixie.
"Any word, Dix?" Johnny asked with concern.
Sighing softly, she shook her head, but flashed a small smile.
"I know you guys are concerned about him, but I really don't think you have anything to worry about. One of our top orthopedists is coming down to take a look at him. I'm sure with some rest and some more pain medication he'll be as good as new in no time. We'll call you if anything comes up. Will you be calling his wife, or do you want me to do it?"
Shaking his head, Roy sighed loudly. "He didn't want his wife called. She's out of town for a few days. If it does end up being something a little more serious, we'll call her, Dix."
"Okay, Roy. I'll leave it in your hands. What about the other guys…Mike, Marco, and Chet?"
"We'll call them later, too. I don't think Captain Stanley is going to be in the mood for any visitors now…but later on…after more medication? Maybe. We'll see you later."
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Three hours later, having been admitted, Hank was now resting in bed. It turned out that none of his injuries were serious. His injuries, including his back were just a series of strains, sprains, and bruises. His cut foot and burned hand were both examined, and treated accordingly…bandages on both.
Receiving his medication, but not quite feeling the full effects of it yet, Hank was still in some mild discomfort, and appropriately miserable because of it.
At the hospital visiting a friend of his who had had his gall bladder removed only two days earlier, Mike Stoker was on his way back to the elevator, when he happened to pass Hank's room. Reading "Henry Stanley" on the room's name plate, he stopped and did a double take.
Not wanting to disturb whoever might be inside the room in the event that it wasn't his captain, Mike instead went to the nurses' station and asked about the patient in room 214-B.
"Excuse me, do you think I can ask you about the patient in 214-B?" Mike asked the young nurse sitting at the desk, looking through a chart.
"Sure. What about him?"
"It says 'Henry Stanley' on the door. That wouldn't by any chance be CAPTAIN Stanley of the County Fire Department, would it? Because if it is, I work with him…I'm his engineer."
Nodding her head, the young nurse smiled at the handsome firefighter.
"Yes, I believe it is. You can see him, if you'd like. But if he is asleep, I'd ask that you see him later…he needs his rest."
Hearing that the person in question was indeed his captain, Mike became concerned at what might have happened to his friend. The last he had known, Hank had been on vacation, and was looking forward to spending time relaxing alone at home.
Carefully opening the door to his captain's room, Mike peered inside. Seeing that Hank was awake, he entered the room quietly.
"Cap? What happened?"
Looking up at the sound of a voice, Hank quickly realized that he had been found out.
"Michael? What are you doing here?" A hurting and tired Hank asked the engineer.
"Me? I asked you first. What happened?"
Sighing very loudly, Hank wearily leaned his head back on his pillows. "It's a long story. I didn't think Roy and John were going to say anything to anyone."
Mike looked at Hank with a rather confused expression. "Roy and John? How did they know about this, but I didn't?"
"They were the ones who came to my house. They're working some overtime, apparently. It's no big deal. I…I had a few mishaps at home."
"Really?" replied Mike incredulously. "It looks more like you went a few rounds in the ring with someone. Mishaps? What kind of mishaps?"
"Mike…I'm not in the mood to talk about this right now. Maybe later, okay?"
"Sure. Anything serious, though?"
"No, I'll live…at least long enough to give Chet latrine duty a few more times, if he doesn't stop antagonizing Gage."
Hearing his captain crack a joke, Mike was convinced that Hank was doing okay.
"Anything I can get you? Some magazines or a newspaper?"
"No thanks, pal. I'm alright. Just going to try to get some sleep…if these pain meds ever kick in."
"Do you need me to call Suzanne?"
Hearing his wife's name mentioned, Hank shook his head. "No."
Continuing to stand looking at his captain, Mike waited for more of an explanation. When nothing else was said, he continued.
"She WAS called, wasn't she?"
"No, she wasn't called…and she WON'T be. She deserves some peace and quiet while she's away…and so do I. If she needs to be called at some point…I'll take care of it then."
"Alright. Well, I guess I'll be heading out then. If you need anything, you can call me at home."
"Yeah, sure. See you later, Mike."
Hank wanted nothing more than to be left alone in his misery. He knew that his engineer was concerned and wanted to be there for him, but he was not in the mood for company.
Mike nodded his head, and left the room.
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Later that evening, a better rested and more comfortable Hank was visiting with his senior paramedic.
"How are you feeling, Cap?"
Smiling tiredly, Hank nodded his head. "I'm doing okay, Roy. Where's John? He's okay, isn't he?"
"That's debatable," replied Roy, leaving his captain to wonder what was wrong.
"Did he get hurt?"
"Well…it's nothing too serious. Remember that yo-yo trick that you tried this morning?"
"He didn't?"
"Yep. It wasn't pretty. We were at a drug store picking up some aspirin for one of the guys back at the station, who had a bad tooth ache. When we were at the counter, Johnny noticed a container full of yo-yo's. Much like the time he just HAD to try the skateboard, he picked up the yo-yo and attempted the same trick that you had tried this morning…with the same results."
"Well, I for one won't laugh about that," Hank said with a smile.
"He's getting checked out by Doctor Morton. I got a call from Mike. He mentioned that he had been visiting a friend here when he came across your name on the door."
"Yeah. I'm afraid that I was less than kind to him."
"Yeah, he mentioned that. He understands. I tried to get a hold of Marco and Chet, but neither one was home."
"Just as well, Roy. I can just hear the ribbing I'm going to get from Chet."
Entering the room, Johnny came in holding a small ice pack to his left eye.
"I finally believe your whole story, Cap. Those yo-yo's are dangerous."
Letting out a small laugh, Hank was able to commiserate with the young paramedic.
"Yeah, tell me about it. You'll be okay?"
"I'll be fine, Cap. What story can I feed the guys back at the station? Telling them that it was a yo-yo gone bad…"
"Tell them that you got hit in the eye by an agitated victim. They'll believe that."
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The next day after they had gotten off shift, and met for breakfast at a favorite diner, Roy and Johnny had swung by the hospital to bring their captain home to finish his recuperation in the privacy of his own house.
Making sure that he was comfortably resting on his couch, the two paramedics asked him if there was anything else they could do for him.
"No, I'm good, thanks. You guys have been a big help. My neighbor Jimmy will be by soon to spend the day with me. He remembered me mentioning something about a steak dinner that I was looking forward to, and said that he was going to grill some steaks for dinner."
"Good. Then I guess you have everything under control. We'll see you later. If you need anything, call one of us."
Hank smiled appreciatively at the two men. "I will. If I did call someone, Roy it would probably be you. I think your partner needs to lay low for a while and ice that eye. You don't want anyone to think that you got into a fight or anything, John."
"Live and learn, right Cap," Johnny replied.
"What do you want us to do about Chet and Marco?"
"You can still let them know that I had short stint on the disabled list, Roy. Brackett said that I should be fine in a few days. By the time Suzanne comes home…I'll be as good as new."
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By the time his wife and kids had returned from their trip to San Diego, Hank was in fact good as new.
Returning to work, he was back to his old self, but his crew all had black eyes in various shades of the color.
"What happened to you guys?" Hank asked increculously.
Mike shook his head. "Touch football game. Things got a little rough out there. I got hit in the face with the ball when I tried to catch it."
"Joanne elbowed me last night in bed. I had just finished reading a magazine and was lowering myself in the bed when she went to roll over. Her elbow connected with my eye pretty solidly."
Marco sighed softly. "I got kicked in the eye by a squirming toddler. My sister Ana's daughter and I were having a tickling contest…"
"And you lost?" Hank guessed with a smile.
"All I can say, Cap is that your yo-yo defense holds up. I don't think that trick that both you and Johnny had attempted last week is possible."
Hank nodded his head.
"Yep, it is. Check it out."
Taking out the yo-yo from his pocket, Hank proceeded to do the trick without incident. "Steve taught me the trick yesterday. It's really quite easy…if you have coordination."
Leaving his men in the squad room as he made his way out to the vehicle bay, Hank's laughter trailed behind him.
"They really are twits."
The End