Disclaimer: I do not own these boys. Universal and Mark VII productions do. The situations are not meant to represent any real event, and the actions of the characters are not meant to represent the actions of any real person.
Hitting the Wall
Chapter 4.
"Well, Roy, I'll have to see the x-rays to be sure, but this looks like a classic boxer's fracture," Dr. Brackett said to Roy.
Roy sat sullenly on the gurney. "Yeah, pretty stupid, huh."
Brackett scrutinized his senior paramedic. "What got into you, anyhow?
Roy sighed, and looked away. Yeah, but no time like the present. "Doc, I'm gonna be totally straight with you."
That got Brackett's attention. "Okay, Roy, I'm listening." He stood there with arms folded, a gesture which some people would take as hostile, but that Roy recognized as Brackett's way of just keeping his distance and showing that he was paying attention.
Roy continued. "The way you told that woman her husband was dead? In front the whole world, in the waiting room? Unacceptable, plain and simple." He looked Brackett in the eye. "All I could think about was, someday you might be giving that news to Joanne. And anyone getting that kind of news deserves more respect and compassion than you dished out today. After doing CPR on a corpse for twenty minutes, then coming in and hearing that, well, Doc, I just plain lost it."
Roy had never seen Brackett turn white before. He wasn't sure if it was anger or shock, or some combination thereof, that caused the dramatic color change.
"Come on, DeSoto, you know I would take care of Joanne and the kids. You don't think I'm that low, do you?"
"Well, Doc, don't you think everyone deserves the same consideration you'd offer my family in that situation? If you could do it for my wife, why not the wife of the guy we brought you this morning?"
Brackett backed away from Roy to get his bearings. He didn't say anything, not for several minutes. Roy started to worry that he'd really blown it, but then, on consideration, he really didn't care. Hell, he'd probably be suspended for a while anyhow, for a self-inflicted injury that would cost the department a sub for several weeks. Even if Cap didn't sock it to him, someone above him probably would – there were plenty of administrators who really had it in for paramedics, and would take any chance to sock it to the program in general, or one man in specific. And, as the most senior paramedic in the county, Roy knew he was a prime target.
"I'll tell you something else, Doc. Every married firefighter I know has the image go through his head of his wife someday Getting The Call." Brackett could practically hear the capital letters in that phrase.
Roy continued. "There's a lotta ways it can happen – someone showing up at your door, someone calling you on the phone and saying 'you have to come to Rampart right now,' – and none of those ways are any good. But the idea that someone you consider a friend and a mentor might deliver bad news in a way like you did today? Doc, my blood just boiled."
Roy's voice was cracking, and was only slightly louder and higher pitched than his usual calm tones, but Brackett knew Roy well enough to know that even when Roy was upset – or perhaps especially when he was upset – his tone stayed level and controlled.
Brackett was thinking about what Roy had said: "Don't you think everyone deserves the same consideration?" And he couldn't think of any rational reason why the answer should be anything other than "yes."
But he just couldn't bring himself to admit to Roy that he was wrong. The moment where it would have been easiest for Kel to say "You're right," or "I'm sorry," or any of those small but important words, came and went, and Brackett had not said anything.
And the moment was lost altogether, as the x-ray tech knocked on the door, and came in with the pictures. He left again as soon as Dr. Brackett had snapped the pictures up on the light box and nodded to the tech that the x-rays were acceptable. As the tech left, he held the door for Dr. Early and Johnny.
"So, Kel, what's the verdict?" asked Early. Joe and Kel looked at the x-ray, drew some lines on it with a straight-edge, and measured some angles.
Johnny, though, didn't say anything – he looked at Roy's expression, looked at Brackett's turned back and could see the tightness across the back of his white coat. Uh oh.
Johnny went back over to Roy. "Hey." He looked back down at Roy's hand, now unwrapped, and looking more swollen and misshapen by the minute. "How's that doing?"
"Probably doesn't hurt quite as much as I deserve, I guess. Can't wait till they set it – then it'll probably hurt enough to make me feel better."
Whoa. "Uh, Roy?"
Roy looked at him blankly.
"You're acting more than a little strange, pal," Johnny said quietly enough that Early and Brackett, looking at the x-rays, were not meant to hear.
Roy shrugged. "Well, yeah."
"So, um, yeah—I called Joanne – she'll be over in half an hour or so."
Roy snorted lightly. "And how long did it take her to get it out of you that I did this to myself?" he asked, knowing that Joanne wouldn't fall for even highly skilled evasion, and that his partner's evasive maneuvers were pathetically amateurish up against his wife's perceptive abilities.
"Oh, not too bad – nearly three seconds, I'd say," admitted Johnny.
"Figured," said Roy.
Early and Brackett finished their consultation by the light box. Joe returned to the exam area, while Kel took his opportunity to leave silently.
"Roy, it's pretty much what we thought – classic boxer's fracture – neck of the fifth metacarpal. The degree of angulation is right on the borderline for pinning it, so we're going to have someone from orthopedics come down to take a look," said Dr. Early. "I just talked to Dr. Henry; he'll be down in about fifteen minutes. He said to get started on numbing that hand up."
"Okay," said Roy. His jaw was clenched tightly, and he was starting to sweat.
"You want something for the pain in the meantime?" asked Dr. Early. "That's gotta be smarting pretty good by now."
"No thanks," said Roy. Johnny rolled his eyes.
"Suit yourself, Roy," said Dr. Early. "John, we're down a nurse, would you mind giving me a hand? You know where everything is anyhow."
"Sure thing, Doc," said Johnny. "Um, ya know, I don't usually do this stuff – what needle gauge do ya want?" he asked.
"27 gauge, intermediate bevel," said Early, "second drawer, and we'll go with the 2% lidocaine."
Johnny headed to the cabinet and got out a vial of lidocaine, a syringe, and some alcohol prep wipes. He loaded up the syringe as Dr. Early washed his hands at the sink.
"You know, Roy, you can always talk to me if there's something on your mind," said Dr. Early.
"Thanks, Doc. Soon," said Roy.
"All right, Roy," said Early. "I'm going to block your ulnar nerve at the wrist. The lidocaine will sting a good bit when it goes in."
"Okay," said Roy.
"Geez, Roy – keep up talking like that and people are gonna start mistaking you for Stoker," said Johnny, trying to lighten the mood.
Dr. Early took Roy's wrist gently, and prepped the skin and let it dry. He found the anatomical landmarks for the ulnar nerve. "Okay, John," he said, and Johnny passed him the loaded syringe.
Roy sat impassively as Dr. Early found the nerve with the needle and shot the lidocaine home.
"All right, let's leave that to work for a while," said Early. "Oh, and John, Dr. Henry said he'd like to say hello to you if you're still here."
"Hey, great!" Dr. Henry knew Johnny well, having treated a broken leg Johnny sustained in a building explosion a couple years previously. "We're stuck here till someone comes with the squad anyhow, and the guys definitely had some mopping up to do at the accident site – lots of gas and glass. 'Spose I better go see if Chet or Marco's on the way, too – be right back, Roy."
Joe and Roy watched with mild amusement as Johnny bounced his way out of the room.
"Doc – no offense, but could I have a minute on my own?" asked Roy.
"Sure. Don't forget – if you feel like talking, you know where to find me," said Dr. Early, as he left Roy to brood.
Johnny passed the nurses' station, wondering where Dixie was.
"Hey," he asked Betty, the next most senior nurse after Dixie, "have you seen Dix anywhere?"
The nurse grimaced slightly. "She just dragged Dr. Brackett into his office. I don't know what he did, but I sure wouldn't want to be him right now."
Johnny silently agreed – he'd never been on the wrong end of a truly angry Dixie, but he could imagine it wouldn't be pretty. "Okay, thanks. I'm just gonna go wait outside for my squad, I think. Get some fresh air."
"John – you're forgetting this is L.A. – there's no such thing," Betty reminded him.
"True," he said, "but I guess I'll go out anyhow. More room to pace. Man, that partner of mine..."
Betty smiled to herself as Johnny strode down the hallway shaking his head. Backwards Day at Rampart, she thought – nurses chewing out doctors, and John Gage's mind boggling over his partner's behavior.
Johnny went out to the ambulance entrance, and paced the parking lot for a while before perching on a railing. He breathed in a deep lungful of outside air, and was reminded of Betty's comment. He looked to the south, noting how the clear blue sky faded to a rusty orange at the horizon. As he watched the access road to the south of the hospital, he saw the familiar shape of the squad pulling into the parking lot, under the supporting piers of the building, and into an ambulance bay. Chet was at the wheel. Johnny waved to him from his perch to get his attention, and Chet parked the squad and headed over.
"Hey, Gage." Chet could tell from Johnny's face not to ask whether the patient had made it. "Where's DeSoto? Is he all right? He takes these things awful hard."
"Yeah, well, the wall took it harder," replied Johnny.
"Huh?"
"Yep, it's true—Mr. Calm just lost a one-hitter quitter with some sheetrock in the staff lounge," said Johnny.
Chet's jaw dropped. "You're shittin' me! Roy punched a wall out?"
"Nope, no manure. Busted his hand. They're gonna set it pretty soon. Not my favorite activity, but I think I oughta be there," said Johnny. "No matter how much lidocaine they shoot you up with it still hurts like a gunshot. Nasty sound, too. They're down a nurse today, plus, I figure I owe Roy for all my boo-boos he got me through. They always need a coupla guys to pull. Gonna come in and help out?" He looked at Chet inquiringly.
"Uh-uh, no fuckin' way, man. Oops, sorry, Miss," Chet said to a passing nurse. "Plus, you're right—Roy's held your hand through so much shit that it's your turn."
"Yeah. Better get to it. Hey, can you call Cap and see about a sub? At least he won't ask you how you didn't manage to stop him."
"Oh, crap – Cap's gonna have a cow. Is that an automatic suspension?" asked Chet.
"Dunno – he'll definitely be on light duty for at least a few weeks, depending." Johnny looked at his watch. "Shoot – better get back – wouldn't wanna miss the fun. Oh, and hey, keep your eyes open for Joanne, will ya?"
Johnny knocked on the door of Treatment 2 and stepped in. He broke into a grin when he saw Dr. Henry. "Well hey, Doc! Been awhile, thank goodness!"
"Mr. Gage! I trust you're well, and that the leg is holding up?"
"Sure thing, Doc – it's a bit weather-wise, but other than that, I don't pay it any mind."
"Okay, that's excellent." Henry turned his attention back to Roy. "Mr. DeSoto, this should be fairly routine – I don't see a need to pin this fracture, so let's get down to business. This is a two-person job – would you prefer to have Mr. Gage assist, or someone else?" he asked politely.
"Oh, I think Johnny owes me one. Do your worst, Junior."
"Okay, Doc," sighed Johnny. "Where do ya want me?"
Roy did his best to pretend that he just plain wasn't there, and let his partner and the doctor do what they had to do.
"Okay, Mr. Gage, take his forearm and hold it as hard as you can, up close to the wrist – yes, right there, okay? And just don't let it move, while I do the rest. Mr. DeSoto, I'm afraid that even with the lidocaine you should expect some discomfort."
"Okay. Ready," said Roy, again borrowing Stoker's speech patterns.
Johnny reached around behind Roy to get the best leverage, and grabbed onto his wrist with both hands. "Sorry, buddy," he murmured, as Henry pulled Roy's fourth and fifth fingers, hard, with one hand and worked on pushing the hand bone back in place with the other. Johnny could feel Roy's whole body tense. As Dr. Henry gave one more strong yank to the fingers and push to the hand bone, there was a crunching sound, and Roy let out an involuntary yell. "All right," Johnny said soothingly, "almost done." He continued to hold onto Roy's wrist, gently, as Dr. Henry carefully felt the fifth metacarpal and found it to be satisfactorily aligned.
"Okay, Mr. DeSoto, that's done. Let's get you in a cast. And I would also recommend that you take, drat, where do they keep them..."
"Whaddaya want – hydrocodone?" asked Johnny. "Dixie's got all that stuff locked up at the nurses' station."
"Of course. Mr. DeSoto, I'll get you some pain pills while your cast is drying, okay?"
Roy let out some shaky breaths, which Johnny echoed with his own. "Doin' okay, pal?" he asked Roy. He also grabbed a basin, just in case, as Roy had That Look.
"Yeah. Thanks." Roy was pale and shaky, and blew several breaths out heavily. Johnny stayed close with the basin, and with his moral support.
Dr. Henry, observing the dynamic between the partners, decided that Roy was better off with Johnny as a friend at the moment than as a nurse. So, he got the casting supplies together himself, without asking for Johnny's assistance. He put some plaster bandages in water to soak, and put a sock-like tube over Roy's arm, very carefully. He began wrapping padding around his forearm, wrist, and between and around the pinky and ring finger.
"The cast is going to go to the ends of these two fingers, which will be buddied together to keep that fifth metacarpal stable. The rest of your fingers, and your thumb, will be free," he explained, as he began wrapping the warm, moist plaster bandages around the padding.
Within five minutes, the cast had been applied and smoothed. Dr. Henry instructed Johnny to help Roy keep the arm elevated while he went to the nurses' station to get some pain pills for Roy.
Johnny held the warm, damp cast aloft. "Pretty amazing how putting the bones back hurts worse than breakin' 'em in the first place, huh," he said.
"You can say that again," said Roy, hoping that Johnny wouldn't.
He didn't. He knew better.
"I'll tell ya, Johnny, I'm feeling like a real idiot right now," sighed Roy. "I've never done anything like this before. It was just so much crap piled together in one morning, and I just lost it. I didn't even think about what I was going to do – it's like it just happened, and I was, I dunno, an outside observer with no control over the situation. I don't know if you have any idea what I mean, but that's how it was."
Johnny knew exactly what Roy meant. "Ya know what? It took me till I was about twenty to not have an impulse like that – one that I actually acted on – pretty much every week. So yeah, Roy, I get it," sighed Johnny.
Roy sighed again, more heavily than before. "Oh, man; Jo's gonna kill me. Especially if I get admin leave without pay. That's the last thing we need."
"C'mon, Roy, Cap won't do that unless someone upstairs makes 'im. B'sides, your record is spotless, and there were pretty damned extenuating circumstances. He'll probably just give you the same talk he gave me a couple years back about how to not end up on Skid Row. It's a good one – take notes."
Chet took the plunge and called the station.
"L.A. County Fire Station 51, Captain Stanley speaking."
"Hey, Cap, it's Chet. I just brought the squad in to Rampart, and I've gotta tell ya somethin'. Roy, um, well, you see, Roy busted his hand, and he's getting a cast right now, and he said to tell you he'll need a sub."
Chet listened to the silence on the line.
"You still there, Cap?"
"Yes, yes. I assume this happened the way these things usually do?"
"Yeah, hole in the wall."
"But Roy – of all people! All right, I'll call in for a sub for the rest of the shift. And you tell him, my office, 0730, before our next shift."
"Roger wilco, Cap. Uh, Gage said Roy's really, really upset. I mean, he didn't actually say, but, you know, they lost that patient, and it sounds like maybe something else happened too, but Gage wasn't sayin'. Tell me to shut up if you wanna, Cap, but I'm beggin' ya – don't be too hard on him."
"I understand, Kelly, and I appreciate it, but I may not have a choice." Chet could hear Cap's frustration over the line. "Tell him – well, tell him to take care, and we'll all be thinking of him, okay?"
"Sure thing, Cap. Whoops – gotta go – Joanne just came in. I'll be back with Gage in a jiffy. Bye."
Chet caught up with Joanne at the nurses' station, where Dixie had returned and was speaking to Joanne already.
"I see," Joanne was saying. "And with the kids there? Yeah, that would really set him off. It's just not like him to—oh, hi Chet."
Chet had no idea what they were talking about, but he didn't ask.
"Hi, Joanne. I'm glad you're here – I've gotta drag Gage back to the station for the rest of our shift, and it sounds like Roy is pretty low."
Joanne looked at Dixie. "Can I see him?"
"Well, the orthopedist is still in there setting and casting his hand, but they should—" Dixie was interrupted by a single, loud yell coming from Treatment 2— "be done soon," she finished quietly.
"Oh, honey," Joanne said under her breath as her eyes teared up.
"Chet, why don't you take Joanne to the lounge and get her some coffee," said Dixie. "I'll come in and get you when Dr. Henry is all done. That was the worst part," she said gently. "He'll be much more comfortable now."
"Thanks, Dixie," sniffed Joanne. She allowed Chet to steer her to the lounge.
Chet pointed at the coffee pot. "Are you willing to risk your stomach lining on this swill?" he asked, trying to lighten the mood.
"No thanks, Chet – I can't stand hospital coffee. Too many bad associations."
Chet understood that perfectly. Even though other than Stoker, Roy was the one on their shift with the fewest injuries, Joanne was always there for all the men, and had had more than her fair share of burnt hospital coffee.
"Is Johnny in there with him?" Joanne asked him after a minute.
"Yeah – I guess they're short nurses, so Gage is filling in. Payback for all the times Roy has had to hold Johnny's hand, huh?"
Joanne didn't reply right away. She was looking past Chet, rather than at him. Chet turned to see what she was looking at, and his eye was caught by a splintered, powder-dusted hole in the sheetrock near the bulletin board by the door.
"X marks the spot," he said wryly.
TBC.