Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Emergency or any of its characters. I promise to return them unharmed when my imagination is finished with 'em.
To Save a Life
Written by: Kianda
Chapter Six
Pandemonium reined, as those in the hallway dealt with a now unconscious Johnny. As with any commotion, a few curious on-lookers gathered to watch as hospital staff dealt with the patient on the floor. Once lifted onto a gurney, and wheeled into a treatment room, they dispersed.
"On three."
Once Johnny was transferred to the exam table Doctor Morton repeated, "Brice, I asked you a question. What happened here?" Lifting one of John's closed eyelids and flicking his penlight back and forth, he let the eyelid close and quickly repeated the action on the other eye. Placing his stethoscope against the comatose man's chest, he listened to his lungs, satisfied his breath sounds were clear.
"Since you're here Bellingham, start an IV with normal saline," Morton barked.
The doctor started cutting through Johnny's clothing. "Brice!"
"We were hit by debris, Gage taking it mostly across his back." Brice began, "He told us he was fine. Once we had DeSoto free, the orders were to bring the patient in immediately. I suspected Gage might be concussed. He started showing delayed signs of distress out in the hallway just before his collapse."
Standing near the door Marco confirmed, "Brice is telling it like it happened, Dr. Morton. Johnny repeatedly told us he felt okay."
Ignoring Marco, the emergency room doctor shot Brice an inquiring look. "And you decided to keep this information to yourself, because—?"
In typical Brice fashion, pushing his glasses against his nose, he stated matter of fact, "I decided to take Gage at his word. Our priority was DeSoto."
"Well I hope for your sake Brice, the decision doesn't cost you."
"Wait a minute Doc," Bellingham intervened, not at all liking the docs tone. "Brice did everything he was supposed to. John kept insisting he was fine. Captain Stanley ordered him medically cleared once we reached the hospital." Bellingham wanted to say more but realized now wasn't the time.
"Humph," the doctor answered, examining the nasty laceration on Johnny's arm. "I'm sorry to hear about DeSoto," his sympathy genuine. Morton could appreciate how rough this was on them. "But I have to tell you it's no excuse for not declaring an injury, Brice."
"No, Bellingham," Craig stopped Bob from saying anything. "Doctor Morton is correct. I take full responsibility. I let Gage's emotion sway me into not reporting his possible injury."
"Don't go throwing yourself against you're sword just yet, Brice," The doctor's words surprising, "Let's find out what's wrong with him first."
Once the X-ray techs entered, Marco felt in the way. He quietly slipped from the room. While he felt Morton's bedside manner needed major overhaul, Johnny couldn't be in better hands. He headed for the hospital chapel. He could do more for his friends in there. He let the station nurse know where he'd be, so the rest of his friends would find him once they arrived.
Alone in the small silent room of the chapel, Marco felt peace steal over his weary soul. He bowed his head, and prayed for his friends. So immersed was he in this task, a slight shake to his arm startled him. He lifted his head to find Dixie seated next to him. Tear streaks tracked down her pretty face.
"The guys are waiting for you. I have news on Roy," She told him softly.
Marco was afraid to hear it, but he dutifully followed her to where his friends were waiting in anxious anticipation.
Indeterminate noises entered his awareness. The soft tread of a shoe moving across a bare floor. A tiny clink, as something touched a metal tray. He smelled perfume, and then felt a warm hand against his wrist.
Slowly his brown eyes opened to the harsh, bright, overhead light of a treatment room in Rampart. Moaning he reached up attempting to grab his head, and to shield his eyes from the powerful light. Firm hands restrained him.
"Easy."
Dixie McCall's sympathetic eyes gazed into Johnny's pain filled ones. She observed the careworn face, the dark smudges of fatigue and—hurt for him. She moved the light back so the direct glare would no longer blind him.
"Hello, Johnny."
Johnny's mouth felt like someone stuffed it with cotton. His head hurt!
"Dix? What happened?" He asked groggily.
Dixie frowned. "You've been out for a bit."
At a loss, Johnny couldn't remember how he came to be in a treatment room at Rampart. His left arm housed an IV. A light sheet and blanket covered him. He lifted one end to peer inside. His face colored as he realized his clothes were gone. Replaced, with a hospital gown. Why did his right arm have a bandage covering it and where was Roy?
"What's going on, Dix?"
"You've been injured. How are you feeling? Wait—I wouldn't try to sit—"
He only made it halfway up. The room started to revolve along with his stomach. Battling nausea, he tried breathing deeply only to have his breath cut short by a painful pulling sensation along his rib-cage. Dixie's quick hands helped him to lie back.
"Oh man," He moaned.
"Easy, John."
"Where's Roy?"
Avoiding his question Dixie said, "Focus on what happened to you Johnny." She watched him carefully, her frown deepening a questioning gaze in her eyes. She turned to look behind her.
Concentrating, Johnny confessed, "I'm coming up blank," rubbing his forehead, "must 'a knocked my head but good this time." What did Roy say?"
Dixie gave him a pained look. "Johnny—Roy—"
The slight hesitation when she'd said Roy's name told him something was horribly wrong! His eyes widened. "What's happened?"
"Johnny what's the last thing you clearly remember about today," she insisted sadly.
His mind whirled. It had to be bad. Dixie kept after him to remember. His breathing increased. Intense concentration had Johnny sweating. He rubbed his temple harder.
Recollection found a way through the state of confusion.
Color instantly drained from his face that become as white as the overhead light. His face displayed undisguised misery. "The warehouse fire!" Johnny felt bile rise. Roy!
Watching the tortured man's coloring go from white to green, Dixie just made it with an emesis basin before Johnny started retching. With each heave, the pressure in his side increased. As the heaving continued, he felt a sharp stabbing sensation in the region of his ribcage. He cried out at the suddenness of it. Between the retching, the pain, and his agitation, he couldn't catch enough air.
"Can't b-b—breathe," he struggled, gasping like a fish out of water. When his stomach finally stopped contracting, he felt himself fading out.
A deeper voice pierced the fog. "Johnny you're going to be fine."
Dr. Brackett he thought vaguely. The fog became heavier.
"Get oxygen on him Dix, four liters to start."
A nasal cannula slid into place. Cool oxygen filtered in.
He continued to struggle for air. Self-recrimination tore his gut. He'd failed everyone who believed in him. He didn't deserve anyone's caring concern.
Brackett words to him were making no sense. As consciousness faded, Dixie took his hand.
Hank couldn't believe the turn of events. He glanced down at his man lying in the bed. When he'd left, John was walking and talking. He was kicking himself ten times over.
"Cap, you can't hold yourself responsible for this," Mike said quietly breaking the tension. His statement carried a double meaning.
"Mike, I appreciate the sentiment, but I should have stuck with protocol."
Chet thought the man had a point, but said, "Johnny's gonna to be fine, Cap. Doctor Brackett said so."
"He doesn't know about Roy," Marco said.
Hank glanced toward Marco, who, throughout the afternoon, became withdrawn.
"He'll be told just as soon as he wakes up. Lopez are you okay?"
"I don't know Cap." Turning he walked out the door, not seeing the frown of concern.
When Johnny opened his eyes, again he was alone in the room. He felt groggy like he'd been given a sedative. He had no idea how much time passed. A deep depression gripped him.
His attention turned toward the door as Dixie stepped into the room. Seeing her patient awake she broke out in a relieved smile "John Gage, you sure know how to worry a girl." Still smiling, she reached the side of the bed, pressing warm fingers to his wrist.
"Seems I'm good at making people worry."
She fussed with his pillow. "How are you feeling?"
A bitter smile lifted his lips. He fired off a volley of questions.
"How should I be feeling? How long was I out? What happened. And, most importantly, when do I get outta here?"
A despondent John Gage was something she hadn't faced before. Ramparts head nurse didn't like what she was hearing. She tried to coax a spark of emotion from him. She answered his questions in the same manner, and order they were asked.
"We'll get back to how you're feeling in a minute. You've were given a light sedative to help you relax. You've been asleep for about an hour. I'll let Dr. Brackett explain what happened. I'm hurt you don't like our hospitality, Johnny, are you trying to hurt my feelings?"
Her words had the desired effect. She witnessed emotions, from embarrassment—to guilt.
"No—I didn't mean—I just," abruptly he demanded, "tell me about Roy."
Her face became guarded. "Johnny, Roy's—"
"Gone," he curtly finished for her. The numbness of shock began to wear off. "It's my fault, all of it. He trusted me to help him." He hung his head in defeat, the sadness in his voice intermixed with unshed tears near the surface."
He only partially caught her next words. "Johnny you know better than—you did help—It's not—you need to listen—"
The impulse to escape strong, Johnny threw off the covering hopping down from the table. Feeling a tug at his arm he realized he'd stretched the IV line to it's limit, and now it was in danger of being ripped out. His abused body protested the suddenness of movement. He grabbed for the bed. The room spun crazily. He swayed drunkly, and he shut his eyes tight against the return of pain and the nausea. "I—I have to—get out of here."
Over the years, Dixie encountered many aspects of John Gage's personality, but being witness to two new ones in a short span of time had her flustered. A cantankerous and resentful man she had no idea how to deal with. She fell back on what she knew how to do. Squaring her shoulders and stepping into character of Rampart's head ER nurse, she commanded,"You will listen to me, Mr. Gage. You are a patient of this hospital. Until you sign a paper that proves otherwise you will get back up on that bed, without another word, and behave yourself. Do I make myself clear?"
Schooled in the art of taking orders, he knew better than to ignore such an authoritative voice. He gingerly sat upon the gurney.
Checking his IV line she scolded, "Fortunately for you Gage, that IV is still attached."
He felt suddenly foolish for his rash behavior. He couldn't believe he'd just upset Dixie! He'd rather walk off a cliff then make her angry!
She knew he would apologize almost immediately, and he didn't disappoint her.
"Jeeze Dix, I'm sorry I didn't mean to upset—to—to give you a hard time. I just wanna go."
"You're not going anywhere Johnny, at least not yet," Dr. Brackett's stern voice sounded close by. "I want you to relax, and lie back."
When did arrive? Johnny hadn't heard the doc enter.
A nurse stuck her head into the room motioning for Dixie.
"You need me, Kel?"
"No, we're fine here," Dr. Brackett informed her.
As she left the room she patted Johnny's good arm and whispered, "Behave."
Johnny in no mood to deal with Kelly Brackett simply withdrew. He wanted to go home to be alone with his grief. Feeling exposed his sorrow drowning him he needed time before—he needed time to brace himself for what was to come. Roy's gone—Joanne. She'll blame me for not keeping him safe and she'll be right. He closed his eyes to see the innocent faces of Chris and Jen. His eyes popped open banishing them from sight, only to find Brackett scrutinizing him.
Worn out, the tired paramedic lay back as directed. He wanted to disappear into the realm of sleep and forgetfulness. Tense, in pain, and miserable, Johnny suffered in silence. Brackett came around the back of the gurney and cranked the bed into a sitting position easing the strain to his side.
"Better?" Brackett questioned. "We need to talk. I understand—"
"Is this really necessary?" Johnny asked, rudely cutting Brackett off, indicating the IV. "I have a couple of sore ribs and a headache right? Not a big deal."
Brackett's eyes narrowed, face tightening with anger warning the paramedic he'd said the wrong thing.
Kelly chose his words carefully, controlling his rising temper. He knew Gage had been under a heavy amount of stress and wound up injured. Still it riled him to hear Johnny dismiss his injuries.
"I beg to differ with you Johnny I'd say it is—a big deal, and I'll decide what's necessary when you're here in my emergency department."
The man in the bed squirmed under the doctor's professional chastisement.
"Aside from losing consciousness, you are dehydrated. You have a mild concussion. Your helmet deflected the worst of the blow or it could have been worse. As it is, you'll probably have a powerful headache for a couple of days. He stepped closer to the bed. "You have serious bruising on your back and left shoulder. If you noticed, he indicated Johnny's bandages, it took twelve stitches to close a laceration in that arm. You lost a small amount of blood and," he held up his hand to forestall Johnny's complaining, "you bruised two of your ribs, which due to your recent vomiting episode, probably caused one of those ribs to hairline fracture. I'm waiting on the x-ray results. You tell me," with each word his temper rose," if it's a big deal, Paramedic Gage."
Johnny remained silent not trusting himself to speak. Brackett was justified in his anger.
Dr. Brackett stood in front of Johnny with his hands crossed over his chest, lips tightly compressed, fighting his anger. Anger partly aimed at himself, since he felt he'd known something was wrong with Johnny this afternoon, and didn't follow up.
"Why didn't you inform anyone you were in need of medical attention?"
"It happened just as we finished with the extrication. I didn't have time to worry about it Doc! Roy needed a hospital." Not that it did any good, he thought bitterly
Brackett sighed, hardly surprised at Gage's answer. He'd heard them before.
"I take it I'm staying overnight?" Johnny pointed again to his IV.
"Yes, for observation. Considering the out of character behavior I just witnessed from you, I think it's for the best."
Johnny turned his head away, dejectedly.
Brackett needed to pull Gage away form his self-induced punishment. "We need to discuss Roy," Brackett said.
The last thing Johnny wanted to do was talk about Roy. What was there to discuss anyway? Roy's gone. What will I say to Joanne!
"Johnny I want to tell you how—"
"Sorry you are?" Johnny finished his sentence, just as he had for Dixie. "Don't Doc! I don't think I could handle your sympathy right now."
"I wasn't going to give you any sympathy Johnny, and please stop interrupting," Brackett sighed, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "You did the best you could for Roy under very stressful conditions. From what i hear, you saved your partner from further serious injury while protecting Craig Brice too. Roy—"
"I can't do this right now!"
Kelly closed his eyes his impatience mounting. Delaying the truth wasn't something he'd planned on doing. His patient in a physically weakened condition and high state of emotion needed to be treated with sensitivity. At the same time, he needed to hear the truth.
Coming to stand at the side of the bed Kelly spoke firmly to the dejected man, "I need you to listen to me."
Johnny watched curious as Brackett grabbed an emesis basin and held it in his hand.
"It's important you remain calm, John. Dixie and I have been repeatedly trying to talk to you about Roy. Johnny tried to protest but Brackett continued, "No, let me finish. I'm going to lay to rest a false assumption on your part." He now had Gage's full attention.
For the first time since awakening, Johnny allowed for a tiny spark of hope.
"You've jumped to the wrong conclusion."
The spark grew to a flame.
"It is understandable you're confused."
"Doc what are you saying?" He found himself holding his breath.
"Roy is upstairs in SICU. His injuries are critic—"
John's reaction was immediate and explosive. Head and body shot up at the same time causing his stomach and room to rotate, the dizziness severe. Brackett thrust the emesis basin in front of the heaving man and kept him from tumbling from the bed.
"Relax, breathe through it," Brackett encouraged not wanting a repeat of what happened earlier.
Thankfully, the episode was over quickly. Dr. Brackett took the basin away and helped the badly affected man, to lie back. "Take it slow, Johnny." Moving to the sink to he moistened a cloth. "Abrupt movement will cause nausea." He handed his slightly green patient the cloth to wipe his mouth. "I can order up something for the nausea if it becomes too much."
"No, I'll be fine, just give me a minute." He took the offered cup of water Bracket held out for him with shaking hands.
Breathing hard, body tense, he wanted off this emotional roller coaster. His feelings going from dark despair to overwhelming relief, in less time it took to blink, left his heart racing, and body protesting the abuse it just suffered. He took a sip from the cup before handing it back to Brackett. He closed his eyes against his awful headache, and forced his body to relax. He felt Brackett hand on his wrist, taking his pulse.
"Close to the reaction I was expecting."
Johnny gave the doc a weak grin.
Bracket pulled up a stool next to the gurney and sat down.
As the throbbing in both his head and side lowered to within tolerable levels, the news began to sink in. Roy's alive!
Brackett watched as joy in its purest form spread across the face of the man lying in the bed. Brown eyes sparkled with—tears.
Kelly couldn't help but feel the effect. Clearing his throat, blinking hard, Kelly smiled. Johnny's reaction reminded the head of Rampart's emergency department why he'd chosen the field of emergency medicine as his career.
Sensing his patient was calm enough to listen, Brackett explained, "Yes, with the help of stabilizing medications we achieved normal sinus rhythm. Conditions weren't ideal for surgery, but Roy couldn't wait any longer. Dr Jenkins operated, discovering two small lacerations to the liver which he repaired."
"Did you find any spinal damage?"
The puncture wound on his lower back narrowly missed his spinal column Johnny, so no. There will be residual swelling, and for a time Roy may experience discomfort and tingling. It will decease once the swelling resides. The steel rod penetrated deep enough, and a debridement was necessary. We'll watch for infection. We've placed him on an antibiotic drip to help with that."
"His kidney?" Johnny pictured the wound on his friend back.
"His kidney wasn't as fortunate I'm afraid." Brackett rubbed his neck. "It was severely bruised. We're monitoring the swelling and urine output closely. We've ordered the usual tests, and if it becomes necessary, we will do an intravenous pyelogram to see if his kidney is functioning normally. I have every confidence, Johnny, once the swelling subsides his kidney will recover."
"He took in a lot of smoke and dust. Are you concerned?"
Brackett nodded. "We've placed him on a ventilator until he better manages on his own.
"Did he lose much blood?" Listening to Johnny's questions, Brackett smiled inwardly. Here was the man he dealt with everyday.
"He's received five units to replace what he lost at the scene and during surgery."
"What about a concussion?"
He suffered a concussion, and he has three broken ribs. His left arm you knew was broken, along with his two fractured legs, and right ankle. What's remarkable in light of his fall, they are all stable fractures. He will need physical therapy to restore his normal range of motion.
Johnny blew out a sigh of relief. He'd been worried about permanent injury.
"Dr. Morris, Roy's orthopedic surgeon, and I, both agree, getting that beam lifted as quickly as you did, prevented permanent damage to his legs."
Johnny's insides clenched at what the result would have been.
"Has he been conscious?"
"He came around briefly in recovery, but he's been sedated giving his body a chance to rest. He is critical Johnny, were not out of the woods, but if he gets through the next twenty four hours without serious complications arising his prognosis looks excellent for a complete recovery."
Having Roy's condition explained in full detail was a lot to take in all at once. Rubbing a hand over his face Johnny exhaled.
"Is Joanne here?"
"Yes, as soon as Roy moved into the SICU, she went to make a few phone calls, and grab a cup of coffee. She came by to check on you. Your captain stayed as long as he could. Once Roy was out of surgery, and I convinced them you'd recover, they headed back to the station. You have some mighty worried friends."
Johnny vaguely remembered Marco standing next to him in the hall.
"I talked with Hank. He explained what happened to you Johnny. Protecting both Roy and Craig the way you did takes a great deal of courage. Roy was lucky you where there."
Johnny only said three words, but Kelly understood completely.
"He's my partner."
Brackett nodded his throat threatening to close. Working with the fire department these many years showed him fireman were special individuals, willing to put it all on the line for a stranger. Another truth he'd come to learn, they supported one another, always.
"Hank's kicking himself for not following procedure, along with your friend Bob. What confuses me—and maybe you can help me out here—is why Brice, held back his report. He told Morton he'd suspected you'd been concussed."
"Doc, don't blame Brice it wasn't his fault!" Johnny immediately closed ranks, deflecting blame away from Brice, and onto himself. This could get sticky for Brice. If Morton felt strongly enough—they would put Brice in front of a review board!
"The victim always comes first. I was secondary. I could wait! In my defense, I did intend to have myself checked out—just as soon as word came back on Roy. I made the conscious decision to wait, it rests with me."
Listening to Gage's defensive explanation shouldn't have surprised him, but it did. Leave it to the young man, Kelly thought, to defend someone he doesn't even like.
How's Brice's arm? I think I caused the injury when I pulled him down."
"He has a sprained elbow, and some minor bruises."
Johnny felt relieved Brice would be okay. While he didn't like the man in general, Craig had volunteered under dangerous conditions to help a fallen brother.
"How's, Cap?"
"He suffered a contusion. The leg will be sore for a couple of days. "
Brackett's voice became stern once again. "I don't have to tell you about the importance of reporting injuries. I expect you to disclose them in the future."
"I'm hoping I won't have to Doc. It would mean another trip to this room, and let me tell ya I'm tired of being in here! I've racked up more emergency room hours than anyone in the department!"
"An accurate statement, I'd say," Brackett said smothering a smile. "We'll see how you do during the night, but baring any unforeseen complications you can go home in the morning. You will be sore for at least a couple of weeks if not more, and I want you to rest. I am releasing you from duty for three shifts. We'll assess where you are after the time period is up."
Johnny's face took on a frown. His head's pounding became stronger. The thought of being in Caps office trying to defend why he'd kept an injury from him made Johnny cringe.
Brackett noted the mood change, becoming uneasy as he heard a slight groan. "Is something amiss, Johnny?"
Glumly the medic answered, "Yeah, you could say that. I imagine Cap isn't very happy with me. Chet will be gloating because it won't be him pulling latrine duty for a month!"
Brackett shook his head. Johnny could have been seriously injured, or worse, but he was worried over latrine duty!"
"It's not Hank, I'd be worried about." Hands crossed over his chest giving Johnny a firm look, his meaning clear.
Johnny looked sheepish for a moment. "I'm sorry for causing trouble, Doc."
Kelly Brackett smiled fondly at the dark haired man. "Trouble is what we handle Johnny. It's the added excitement we could do without."
"I'll keep it in mind."
"You do that." Brackett felt his own tension diminish, as he observed the younger man's demeanor. He was glad to witness Johnny's sense of humor return. He could see his patient tiring quickly.
"Why don't you try and relax. As soon as you are in your room, I'll have one of the nurses bring you to SICU. I'd rather not have you trying to sneak up there on your own."
Johnny gave Kelly Brackett a warm steady gaze. He owed him big. What could he say to the man who helped save a life?
"Thanks Doc." It didn't seem sufficient but it came from his heart.
"Go on, hose jockey, get some rest," Kel ordered gruffly though he couldn't be happier. Today they had stopped death from knocking on the door.