Hank's Haunting – 12
Chet kept a watchful eye down the hallway until he saw his captain walking out of treatment room four, his features distraught. In the short time it took the tall man to walk from the treatment room to the registration area, Chet's thoughts had flitted from his last uncomfortable conversation with the man to his breakfast conversation with Johnny. Should he approach Captain Stanley or shouldn't he? As he continued with his indecision, he recognized the approaching footfalls, looking up just as recognition appeared on Hank's face.
"Kelly? What are you doing here?"
Chet gulped, tossing the magazine aside and standing. "I, uh…I came to get my medical release. I hope to be back for next shift," he replied. "Um, is everything ok, Cap? I saw you coming in with…," he turned his shoulders nodding towards the entrance.
"It's, Becca…she, uh, she had an accident in the kitchen this morning…grease fire. I, uh…I gotta get her registered, so I…," he rambled, worry lines etching deeply into his forehead.
"Oh, gee, I'm sorry, Cap. I hope she'll be ok. Is there anything I can do?"
Hank only nodded with a meekly sounding 'thanks' as he continued toward the desk leaving Chet with more questions than answers.
E!
Dr. Harrison waited for an answer from his patient while he noticed a distinctive spike in her pulse rate. He allowed the quiescence to linger, his eyes never leaving her bruised face.
"Yes…most of the time. Unless I get forgetful while I'm cooking," she said in a soft, pain-laden voice.
"And the bruises on your face…tell me about those," he requested, quickly glancing at Sally then back down at his patient.
"Fell…slipped in the shower," she offered without elaboration. "Why are you asking me these questions?"
"Sally, let's go ahead and get her numbed up for the stitches and then we can treat her hands." He looked back at his questioning patient. "We'll get you something for the pain soon, and we'll talk some more, ok?"
He accepted the proffered syringe from his nurse then began injecting the lidocaine along the area near the laceration. "This will sting a little at first. I want to really take my time with the stitches since it's a facial laceration. I want to minimize the scarring for you," he smiled continuing his injections.
Rebecca grimaced at the burning sensation along the laceration. "Mmnh," she moaned.
"I know, just one more…there," he placed the used syringe back on the tray Sally was holding. "Now, let's get those hands cleaned up and treated while that numbs up. Sally, start an IV with normal saline and draw up 5 mgs MS for those hands while I continue the exam." He reached for Rebecca's wrist, placing her palm into one of his open hands and grasped her elbow with the other. "Mrs. Stanley, we're going to give you morphine for the pain and it'll help you relax while I stitch you up too. We'll be giving you some additional fluids as a precaution and then we'll be treating your hands with antibiotics and wrapping them as well," he said as he began slowly and gently twisting her arm examining it for another type of injury, feeling a sense of relief when he didn't find it.
"The grease only splashed out on my hands," she explained, not understanding why he was examining her forearms.
"Ok, sometimes when adrenaline floods our system during a crisis, we don't always feel our injuries. I'd like to examine you a little more just to make sure you don't have other injuries you aren't aware of. Is there any chance you might have landed in a way that would've caused you to bump your knees, ribs or abdomen when you fell?"
"I-I don't think so," Rebecca said worriedly, feeling the numbing spreading around her forehead.
"Ok, let me just pull back the sheet and take a look at your legs," he began making sure he watched her reaction as he gently examined her bare legs. Seeing nothing concerning, he quickly covered them back up. "Alright, looks good."
"Dr. Harrison, why did you ask me if I felt safe at home?" Rebecca couldn't stop the panic that was growing in her heart as rapidly as her pain level was increasing from the burns.
He continued his conversation with a soft nonthreatening voice while thoroughly examining her ribs, abdomen, upper torso and finishing with her collarbone and shoulders. "Any tenderness?" He watched for her reaction and noted that she merely shook her head negatively. The only grimace he saw was in response to the insertion of the IV needle. He returned the sheet over her not sure if her trembling was due to the coolness of the room or the topic of conversation.
He watched as Sally adjusted the flow of the IV then picked up the syringe of morphine. When she looked at him raising one eyebrow, he shook his head indicating that she should wait a moment before administering the drug. He needed his patient to hear what he was saying before the drug made her less coherent. "Mrs. Stanley, often times when we see multiple injuries that didn't occur at the same time, especially facial and hand or forearm injuries, we have to ask some very personal questions.
"Why?" She asked, already knowing the answer. "My husband isn't like that," her voice cracked as she fought with her emotions, turning her face away from the physician and his prying questions. "He…he loves me. You heard him say it," she gasped, her respirations increasing.
"Yes ma'am…I understand and I don't mean to imply that he doesn't love you or to upset you. Sometimes things…like stress for instance, get out of hand and men can take it out on the people closest to them. It isn't that they don't love them; they just need help for a variety of reasons. If that's going on with you, then let us refer you to people who can help you…and him." Dr. Harrison laid a gentle hand on her shoulder waiting for some response from her.
Rebecca sniffled, fighting back the urge to blurt out the difficulty her beloved had been having for the last few weeks. Finally, she stiffened her posture even though she was in a supine position and gulped. Her focus returned to the young physician. "No…no that isn't happening...to me. I just…I fell last week and then this morning, I was looking for paper towels and...forgot about the bacon I was cooking. It…it caught on fire and I couldn't remember what to do...my fault...not Hank's," she said, the tension in her body increasing as she became more and more agitated.
"I see," Dr. Harrison nodded, realizing that his patient had just allowed an emotional wall to go up denying him or anyone else from getting close to her; effectively, blocking any further personal information. "Sally, let's go ahead with that MS." He wanted to not only make his patient more comfortable, but to lessen her anxiety as well. "Well, that's good to hear, Mrs. Stanley. Just remember, there's help if you ever run across anyone who IS in that situation."
She turned her head back towards the physician wearing a forced smile, eyes beginning to glass over as she felt the medication entering her blood stream. "He's a fire captain, Dr. Harr'son. He saves lives and pro-property…he's... hero…he doesn' hur' people; 'specially not me."
The young physician offered his relaxing patient a supportive pat on the shoulder. "Ok, Sally I think we're ready for that suture kit."
E!
Roy walked into his house far later than he had planned, the smell of pancakes and bacon unappealing after the large breakfast he had consumed with his crewmates. "Jo? Jo, I'm home," he announced dropping his duffle bag on the sofa as he made his way towards the kitchen and another cup of coffee. He could smell it brewing and heard his wife running water in the sink. He also knew that their house was small enough that she had to have heard him when he called out to her. With a curious look on his face, he walked into the kitchen and saw her with her hands elbow deep in sudsy water forcefully scrubbing dishes.
"Joann? Sweetheart, I'm home."
Joann stiffened and bit her bottom lip as she rinsed out the children's milk glasses and set them into the dish drain to dry. Was he waiting for her to rush into his loving arms and welcome him home to his castle?
Roy looked around at the fresh flower arrangement in the middle of the table, the place settings expertly arranged. On the stove sat a large stack of pancakes and a generous supply of crisp bacon. He winced as he realized he had been so caught up in what was happening with his captain that he had completely forgotten the date.
"Joann, baby I'm so sorry," he walked up behind her waiting for her to turn around, unsure if she would welcome his embrace. "Jo? Did you hear me?" He said, his voice a coarse whisper.
"Yes…I heard you," she said coldly, reaching into the sink and vigorously scrubbing the frying pan. Once it was clean, she rinsed it under the cool water and carefully placed it to dry near the glasses. She dried her hands on the dish towel then placed both hands on the counter. She didn't want to face him; didn't want him to see that she had been crying. On this date, ten years ago, they had promised to love each other for the rest of their lives. The following morning, they had eaten pancakes and bacon in the hotel restaurant on their honeymoon and every year since, she had always prepared the same meal for their breakfast on the morning of their anniversary. Every year since, they had shared the meal together even on the mornings when he was going on shift. But not this year. This year, he had preferred to spend the morning with Mike and Marco instead of with her. She knew he was concerned about his captain but wasn't he concerned about her too? She felt familiar warm hands rest on her shoulder and as much as she wanted to sink back into his warm embrace, the anger and pain were too raw. His touch was uncomfortable and she twisted away from him.
Roy gulped back the bile he was beginning to taste in the back of his throat. Joann wasn't a needy clingy woman. She was strong and independent; qualities that made her a wonderful wife and mother especially the wife of a firefighter. Now, he had let her down and he knew it. She was angry and she was hurt. But didn't she understand that across town, Captain Stanley and his family were also hurting? Joann had always said that the families of Station 51 were a close knit group. Always looking out for each other the same way the firefighter's looked out for one another on the job. He felt the internal conflict dividing him into warring sides each trying to prevail in his mind. "Jo, look…why don't we put the food in the refrigerator and eat it for lunch? Then we can go out for a nice dinner like we always do on our anniversary, alright?"
Joann sniffled, reaching for a napkin to dry her eyes and nose. She did not respond to him audibly, allowing her closed body language to respond for her. She sidestepped to the stove and picked up the platter of food, taking another step towards the trash can and raking the uneaten food into the garbage then dropping the platter into the sink.
Roy watched her tossing out her hard work and felt his blood pressure rising. He jumped, startled at the clanging sound the platter made when she dropped it into the sink unnecessarily. He cringed when she walked angrily toward him and held his breath for whatever tongue lashing he was going to be the recipient of. "I hope you enjoyed your breakfast with the boys!"
"Joann, I said I was sorry. I called you so why didn't you remind me about it then?" He pleaded.
"You made it sound like having breakfast with Marco and Mike was the most important thing you had to do today. I couldn't just tell you to come home like you were some school boy out past curfew!" Her angry green eyes glowed.
"Jo, no one is more important to me than you and the kids. How can you even think that?" He reached out rubbing his hands up and down her upper arms hoping to loosen the tension he could see in her posture.
"I know you're worried about Hank and Rebecca but damn it, Roy…I matter too. I needed you here…this morning…for our anniversary breakfast…couldn't you have talked to Marco and Mike on the phone later today?"
Roy dropped his hands and hung his head. She was right and he knew it. "Yes…yes, that's what I should've done. I really am sorry I forgot about today's date. Believe me," he continued with a glance at the garbage can. "I really wish I hadn't missed out on your anniversary breakfast."
Joann glared at him, unsure if his comment was sincere or loaded with sarcasm. "Ha…pancakes and bacon won't be the only thing you'll miss out on today," she clinched her fists and charged past him and up the stairs. A long soaking bath was what she needed now.
E!
Hank took a seat beside his lineman, sighing as he leaned back.
"Cap, she's in good hands. She'll be alright," Chet offered, hoping he was telling the truth.
"Thank you, I-I sure hope so. She's had a…a pretty rough week," he said crossing one leg over the other knee and staring at the floor. He propped one elbow on the arm of the chair wondering what was happening to his wife and why it seemed to be taking so long.
"Cap?"
"Yea, Kelly?" He responded without turning to face his young lineman.
"Mind if I ask what happened?" The young man questioned timidly.
Hank hesitated for a long moment. "She was frying bacon and eggs for me for breakfast and turned to get a new roll of paper towels. Grease spattered out, caught on fire and she panicked and when I walked in I heard her scream, drop the paper towels in the burning grease and…and all hell broke loose." His eyes glazed over as he continued to stare at the floor. "I shoved her out of the way and put the fire out but…I guess I panicked a little too and shoved her too hard. She fell into the corner of the kitchen table and," he looked back down the corridor, she has burns on her hands and she's getting stitches." He stood up, propping a hand on his narrow hips and leaning nervously against the wall. "It's my fault, Chet."
"No, no way, Cap," Chet stood up and mirrored the stance of his superior. "You saved her from a horrible fate you and I know all too well. You also saved your house." He stepped back slightly hoping his movement would cause Hank to look at him. When it didn't, he continued. "Cap, look at me. You did not hurt your wife. That's just not who Hank Stanley is," he pointed a finger at his Captain tapping him lightly on the chest. "You love her and you saved her. So what if she's getting a few stitches now? Beats the hell outta what coulda happened."
"I don't know. I feel so…so guilty that she's lying in there and I can't do a damn thing about it."
"Let's go get some coffee, get out of this area for a few minutes. You look beat anyway," Chet said trying to lighten the mood.
"You go on ahead. I-I want to stay here. Sally said she'd come get me as soon as I could go back in there."
E!
"Ok, we're through so just relax and let the morphine do its job while the rest of the saline runs through," Dr. Harrison said removing his gloves and dropping them in the waste basket.
"Ha-ank?" She mumbled groggily.
"I'll go get him for you," Sally said turning towards the door. She managed to catch Dr. Harrison before he exited and looked back around his shoulder to make sure their patient didn't over hear her. "She's lying isn't she?"
Dr. Harrison pressed his lips into a straight line. He appreciated Sally's skill and professional judgment. "I honestly can't say. She has no defensive wounds on her arms; no injuries to her torso. There's no tenderness in her shoulders which would happen if her arms had been twisted and pulled forcefully behind her back and there's no injuries on her boney prominences like her knees and nose, only that one cheek." He smiled slightly when he saw the compassion in Sally's eyes. "You're skills and instincts are good, Sally. You recognized the symptoms immediately and you didn't let the fact that you know them dissuade you from considering the possibility."
She glanced again at her patient and saw her chest slowly rising and falling. "I still think it's more than a possibility. You know how stressful his job can be?"
"She's a grown woman, Sally. If she were a child or if she was in some way mentally incapable of making her own decisions then we would have the right to call social services or the police without her consent. But she's an adult and if it is happening…and I'm not saying that it is…but if it is, SHE has to be the one to ask for help." He turned back for one final glance then reached to dim the lights slightly. "She has to be the one to decide to leave; no one can make that choice for her."
"So then, all we can do is what we just did. Give her the information and hope she uses it?" She crossed her arms over her chest.
"That…and make sure that we don't play judge and jury in a case where we don't have all the facts. I haven't known you long but I can tell that if Hank Stanley were lying in the next room, you'd give him the same care you just gave his wife wouldn't you?" His question sounded rhetorical but he truly wanted an answer from the blue-eyed beauty.
She smiled slightly. "Of course," she acknowledged. "And, I hope I am wrong about this."
Dr. Harrison opened the door ushering her into the hallway. "So do I, Sally. So do I."
E!
Chet was still talking to Hank trying to coax him to the cafeteria when he heard the sweet voice he recognized from the night of his injury. "Mr. Stanley, you can come with me now. Dr. Harrison will go over with you what we did and as soon as the IV is finished you can take her home."
"Thank you, Sally, thank you." He sidestepped his lineman without saying good-bye and headed towards treatment room four.
"Chet, you're next so follow me," she said with a bright cheery smile then hurriedly caught up with Hank to direct him towards office 127. "We can use Dr. Brackett's office since he's off today," she said opening the door. "Dr. Harrison will be right with you."
Chet waited until she turned back in his direction. "Where do you want me?"
"Treatment room 1 is ready."
Chet followed her down the hallway and into the designated treatment room. He hopped onto the examination table and began removing his shoe. He saw Sally reaching for the blood pressure cuff and knitted his eyebrows together. "What's that for? I just need him to look at my foot."
"I still have to get vitals on you, Mr. Kelly so settle down." She reached for his left arm and wrapped the blood pressure cuff around his arm. Finding his blood pressure normal, she immediately moved to his pulse. It was a little rapid but that was often the case in the emergency department. "Are you nervous?"
"No…no of course not. Why would I be?" He said with a slight stammer. "I was just thinking about Mrs. Cap down there. She's had a helluva, ahem," he coughed, remembering his previous admonishment for swearing in front of Nurse Lewis. "Uh, I mean…a heck of a week hasn't she?" He hoped his diversion tactic had worked and when Sally spoke up he realized that it had.
"Yes, stiches, burns and a bruised cheekbone all in the same week. She's lucky she didn't break any facial bones when she fell in the shower a few days ago," the pretty nurse offered, assuming that Hank had informed Chet of everything that had occurred since the curly haired lineman seemed to already know about it.
"Yea…," Chet's heart slammed around inside his chest as he remember what Johnny had told him earlier. "Yea, she…she is…"
"Dr. Harrison will be with you in just a few minutes, as soon as he finishes talking to your captain. Good to see you again and I'm glad you're better," she said, backing out of the doorway leaving a stunned Chester B. Kelly sitting on the exam table.
"Slipped in the shower?" He mumbled to himself. "But, Johnny said she ran into the doorway…"
