No Stranger to Hell
Chapter 14
Managed to win the battle against Windows 10, (victory may be short lived), so here's the next chapter. Have been at the mercy of Microsoft so haven't been able to reply to your comments on the last couple of chapters. You have no idea how much I appreciate your thoughts on this story and how much your comments continue to shape it.
NOTE: Most of the painfully researched medical stuff is real but had to fudge some of it for the sake of the story.
SPNGran bravely leaped into the unknown once again so that Imaginary Beta could avoid a meltdown. Due to a probably terminal case of OCD, the chapter was messed with after she'd done an exemplary job. Any remaining errors are mine.
Disclaimer: If I was paid for this I'd chuck my laptop at the heads of TPTB at an unnamed company beginning with the letter M and go buy a Mac.
*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*
At the Gates of Hell
As Steve silently considered what he'd just been told, Danny asked, "If the experimental drug doesn't work, can he still start the other treatment?"
"It may take a while for us to know if the drug is going to be effective or not. Unfortunately, by that time, the anemia could have progressed to a point of no return." answered Dr. Shan, dark eyes conveying only truth with no indication of what he thought of it.
"Patients with this form of anemia usually do well with a bone marrow transplant. Though you don't appear to have a familial match, we may find a donor who comes close enough but it may take some time. It's more complicated than just matching blood types. There are proteins called HLA's on the surface of one's cells that need to match the donor's HLA's nearly perfectly for the transplant to be successful." said Dr. Fanning.
Dr. Shan broke in, "Unfortunately, your illness has progressed to a point where you may not have enough time to find one. That's another reason to consider the new drug."
"We're honestly not trying to talk you into anything." said Dr. Fanning with a pointed look toward his colleague, "We're only trying to lay this out in the most truthful way so that you can make your own decision."
Fanning didn't always like being partnered with the nephrologist. Though they are friends, Lloyd Shan is not always patient and doesn't have much of a bedside manner. This particular patient doesn't have to be finessed into anything. McGarrett knows his own mind and will act accordingly.
"So, you're pretty sure that the drugs used to prepare for a bone marrow transplant will do in my kidneys?" Steve asked for confirmation.
"I'm afraid so but when your kidneys fail, dialysis could sustain you for quite a while. Some people have been on dialysis for many years." replied Dr. Fanning.
Danny had winced inwardly at the use of the word 'when' rather than 'if' regarding kidney failure and blurted out, "What about a kidney transplant? They do those all the time don't they?"
Though the detective had asked the question, Fanning directed his answer to his patient. "Yes, a new kidney would be the best option to retain a relatively normal lifestyle but it may not be so easy."
"Am I even eligible for a kidney transplant? I mean, if this thing may kill me why would they even want to do one? Wouldn't they just consider it a waste?" asked the patient while his friend looked on; disturbed by the use of the word 'waste'.
Despite the SEAL's statements to the contrary, sometimes Danny doubted his friend's sense of self-worth. He considered it a possible factor in some of the more risky situations Steve had gotten himself into lately – like the one that finally put him in the hospital this time. Had Catherine's leaving really screwed him up that much?
Not waiting for an answer he may not want to hear, the blonde spoke up, "Look, if Steve needs a kidney there'll be any number of people willing to be donors. Myself included."
McGarrett turned his head to offer a fond smile to his partner. He knew the man he considered a brother wouldn't hesitate to offer himself as a donor for either bone marrow or a kidney if needed. He'd never even have to ask.
"I've no doubt." smiled Dr. Fanning.
From what the hematologist had observed and from what he'd learned from others who'd had contact with the leader of the Governor's Special Task Force, the man has many friends who wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice a part of themselves to keep him alive. The doctor wonder if he himself had that many people willing to go the distance for him.
Addressing his patient, Fanning said, "In answer to your question of eligibility, if you are cured or considered to be in a stable remission, we may be able to secure a kidney transplant."
"May?" asked Steve quirking an eyebrow as he looked from one physician to the other.
"Even if such a status has been achieved, a history of aplastic anemia could exclude you from receiving a kidney." replied Tom Fanning almost apologetically.
Dr. Shan added, "Securing a place on the transplant list can't be guaranteed. There has to be a determination of life expectancy. If it's decided there isn't going to be a good outcome, you probably wouldn't be eligible for the procedure."
"So, I have to decide whether I want to take the slim chance of being cured with an experimental drug or go with the usual treatment for aplastic anemia. If I choose the experimental drug, by the time we find out if it works or not, I may be up the creek. If I don't choose the new drug and go with the bone marrow transplant, I may or may not find a marrow donor before the anemia kills me and the drugs used to prepare for it will wreck my kidneys. Then, to make it even more suspenseful, I may or may not be eligible for a kidney transplant. And finally, if I don't get a transplant, I'm going to windup on dialysis—possibly for the rest of my life."
Danny's head was nearly spinning from the 'Catch 22' of Steve's unemotional analysis of the facts and their possible outcomes. Neither of the choices presented to his friend fostered optimism. Steve may be screwed no matter which option he chooses.
"Your summation is, unfortunately, correct." sighed Dr. Fanning.
Said Dr. Shan, "Keep in mind that if you don't have a prior match from friends or relatives and you do make it onto the waiting list for a kidney, it could take several years before one is found. In New York right now, the wait for a cadaveric donor is almost ten years."
Tom Fanning once again frowned at the way Shan seemed to be pushing for the new drug. Still, the man was only quoting verifiable facts. This is just a difficult situation. The Commander would most assuredly strive to continue his very active and at times challenging lifestyle. The restriction of being on dialysis would seriously hinder reaching that goal if not preclude it completely.
Danny ran a hand through his hair in unknowing illustration of the stress and frustration his friend had to be feeling right about now.
In the quiet and brightly lit room, Steve silently mulled over his options; his eyes fastened unseeingly on the glass of water that sat on the table in front of him. Sunlight streaming through the large windows caught it like a prism and slivers of achingly pure color broadcast over the table's surface. Perhaps it was a repudiation of the seeming bleakness of this situation. Perhaps a sign of some sort.
Though their patient had given no indication of his feelings, Dr. Fanning could see that the man sitting beside the Commander was becoming more and more anxious as the worrying information was laid out. Breaking the silence in the room, he addressed the blonde man. "Detective Williams, I know this may all seem pretty bleak at the moment but we must be brutally honest about this to allow the Commander to make the best decision for himself."
Danny, startled that he'd been directly spoken to said, "I know. If I look freaked out, it's uh, it's because I am but Steve's used to it."
Before McGarrett could react to his friend's admission, Fanning, once again removing his eyeglasses, looked directly at his patient. Pale grey eyes sincere he said, "Look, Steve, if I may call you that?"
"Of course." answered the patient with a small smile, "Looks like we're going to be spending considerable time together."
Fanning nodded then put forth the conclusion to which he'd come, "Steve, though you are quite ill, you're young enough and, so far, in good enough condition for the experimental drug. The decision is yours but in my personal opinion it's your best chance to be able to continue a lifestyle and profession I'm sure you'd prefer rather than being restricted by your condition."
"I guess you've got me pretty much figured out then." answered Steve, his smile growing wider.
…
"I'm told this was a very popular trade show." said the Hawaiian as they trekked across the concrete to the far side of the cool and dimly lit hall. Their footsteps echoed in the emptiness of the huge venue. After checking in at the convention center's administrative offices, they'd learned that the general manager had gone ahead of them.
"Yeah." said Lou Grover beside him, "A few days ago I saw a news report that said hundreds of exhibitors were here with new products or at least newer versions of old ones. I guess some pretty nifty thingamabobs had been debuted."
"I wonder what kind of thingamabobs were being shown by our problem exhibitor." said Chin who'd spoken to Ms. Delacruz on the phone this morning. Other than reiterating that a display had been abandoned when the NMA show had ended, she'd given no details. When asked, convention center's manager had only vaguely described what Fantasy Formulations had brought to the show; saying only that they were products made of silicone or plastic of some sort.
The big man beside him smiled enigmatically. What Chin didn't know is that his fellow investigator was trying to suppress a smirk if not an outright chuckle. Grover had picked up and read a brochure he'd found lying on the ground near the entrance to the hall and had learned that the Annual NMA Trade Show, (NMA being the acronym for Novelty Manufacturers Association), featured products that ranged from glow-in-the-dark bunny slippers and bacon scented soap to laser-lighted disco balls. It was also the yearly event at which the newest 'marital aids' were presented to potential wholesale buyers from the many adult book stores and 'Love Boutiques' scattered about the mainland. Of course there are several on the island as well but most people pretended they weren't aware of them.
On the far side of the vast space of the main hall they'd finally reached the only structure left standing. Waiting for them was a rather tall woman with a severe haircut and an even more severe expression.
"Ms. Delacruz?" asked Chin.
"Yes, of course." brusquely confirmed the salt and pepper haired woman.
"I'd spoken to you earlier. I'm Detective Kelly of the Governor's Special Task Force and this is Captain Grover." said Chin nodding toward his partner before extending his hand to shake hers in greeting. The woman's grip was startlingly strong. The bones in his hand were scrunched almost uncomfortably before she let it go to shake hands with Grover.
"Thank you for getting here so quickly." said Helen Delacruz, "Sam told me he was sending his best to check into this for me."
"What is it that we can help you with?" asked Lou politely, his hand still feeling the vise-like grip it had been subjected to.
"We seem to have a leftover booth." she said gesturing to the temporary edifice behind her. "We need to find out who the hell it belongs to."
"Don't see a whole lotta mystery here. The big sign says it belongs to Fantasy Formulations." said Grover wondering why there would even be a question considering the name is emblazoned in letters three feet tall on the big sign above their heads.
Ms. Delacruz pinned him with a look that said, 'Don't annoy me with the obvious', before she answered, "We, of course, know the name of the exhibitor but when we tried to contact them, the number they'd given was no longer in service. I suspect that Fantasy Formulations is some sort of fiction."
"Is there an actual physical address listed for this company?" asked Chin.
"Yes, of course there is." she snapped, "I called a contact in Los Angeles and directed them to go to the address listed in our files. He reported back to me that it's only a small vacant office above a strip mall."
"How could there be an exhibitor you don't have a verifiable address for?" asked Lou
"Good question." said Ms. Delacruz
"Have you any idea who actually made the arrangements for 'Fantasy Formulations' to exhibit here?" asked Chin.
"These days it's all done online. One doesn't even have to make a phone call. The office collects all the relevant data. If the name of the company isn't familiar to us, my staff, who've had experience at other convention centers will verify if the exhibitor is actually legit. I don't usually get involved in those things unless there's a problem – like the one standing before you."
The three paused to look at the 'elephant in the room'; a very large and elaborate one.
"I hope that you'll find out who the damned thing belongs to so they can get it the hell out of here. If it's not gone by tomorrow tonight, I'll have my men tear it down. I need to know who to bill for the labor.
"Are the crates here?" asked Chin
"No sign of them." answered the imperious woman. "We'll also have to pay to get some made. This booth is the old-fashioned kind made of very heavy laminate panels so the crates would have to be very large and very sturdy. It will cost quite a bit to build them if we can't find the original crates. Unfortunately, we can't just throw the damned thing away. According to the rules and regs, we have to store them for several months before we can dispose of them."
"How many exhibitors had space at the show?" asked Lou
"Over eighteen-hundred this year. I expect there to be even more next year." said the trade show manager with a hint of pride.
"Quite a crowd." said Chin as Lou nodded next to him.
"Yes, it's a very popular show, a lot of that having to do with it being set in a location with a temperate climate. It's quite the ordeal to hold a trade show in Chicago at this time of year."
"You're tellin' me." said Grover with an exaggerated roll of his eyes, "Been there, bought the T-shirt and wore it under the long Johns I wore under my snow suit."
Grover's remark seemed to crack the icy exterior of the imperious Ms. Delacruz if the slight twitch of her mouth was any indication.
"It's the first major show to be held at the Loulea Convention Center. The Governor and I are confident it will prove to be profitable for the State's budget if we continue to host it and others in the coming years."
"I'm sure it will prove so." agreed Chin.
"Do you know what kinds of products were displayed at this booth?" asked Lou Grover looking up at the black on red logo of two artfully entwined 'F's'.
Helen Delacruz is no prude but she didn't really want to discuss Fantasy Formulations product line. "I'm sure that will be obvious if you look at the dismantled display boards leaning against the back wall of the booth." she said as she gestured toward the arched entrance into the exhibit.
Chin and Lou walked under it toward the back of the booth. The heavily padded plush carpet, a deep sensuous red, felt really good beneath their feet; especially after trudging across acres of concrete.
The booth's walls still held several shelves, (now bare), on which samples had no doubt been set during the show. They'd most likely been purloined by workers from neighboring booths who'd realized there was no one coming to do the tear-down.
The panels are where she said they'd be. Detached from the spaces over the shelves, they were canted against the back wall, the fronts of the large panels of fiberboard faced away from the detectives. Chin reached to flip one of them around to reveal its front. There were several samples still glued or screwed to its surface. The two men stood staring; Chin nonplussed, Grover amused.
Before either man could comment, the Convention Center Manager called out from in front of the booth, "It would probably be best to speak with the NMA coordinator. I have her card in my office and I think she's still on Oahu. Would you gentlemen like to ride there with me so I can get it for you?"
"Uh, sure." said Chin as they walked out from behind the booth toward the vehicle that had brought the manager here. It's quite a distance back to the other side of the hall where the administrative offices are located. The two men felt a bit silly but nonetheless took her up on the offer for a ride.
They followed her to the shiny pink golf cart and climbed in. At this point, any opportunity to take take a break and get off tired feet was welcome. Grover called shotgun and Chin reluctantly took the rear seat.
As Ms. Delacruz steered them toward her office, Chin leaned forward and hissed in Grover's ear, "So that's what the smile was about. You bastard, why didn't you tell me those things were exhibited here!?"
Grover's wide grin almost lit the way across the dim hall as the little vehicle rolled toward its destination.
…...
If only he'd gone with the jewels instead of the art, all this crap could have been avoided. Diamonds are vastly easier to conceal and he wouldn't have had to deal with so many idiots.
He imagined sprinkling the ridiculously expensive bits of compressed carbon on the bed and then lying on it to run his hands through the diamonds to see them sparkle. He'd watch as light fractured into a million shards as he let them drip through his fingers. Sighing loudly, Martin dismissed the fantasy of what could have been.
This time, he'd nearly bitten off more than he could chew. Of course, along with the big payday, there'd been the pleasure of getting one over on the cops. Even the governor's pets, Five-0, hadn't been able to stop to him. Next time though he'd have to contain himself. The thrill would have to be tempered by common sense.
No matter. By tomorrow he'd be off to Lisbon. It's really nice in Portugal this time of year. The weather should be lovely, maybe not as humid as it is here.
He wondered if the caldierada is as good as he remembered it. Perhaps instead of a seafood dish he'd try the Leitoao assado instead. Though they make a really good roast pork here in Hawaii the Portuguese style is more to his liking.
In any case, he can relax and enjoy the downtime. He knows he'll never really retire, these capers are much too addictive. Ah well, he thinks as he takes another sip of the liquid that warms its way down his throat to set up a pleasant fire in his belly, Here's to the next time. Thankfully, all I have to do tomorrow before I leave is to bail that idiot Bob out of jail.
…..
"I've never met anyone from Fantasy Formulations." said the harried coordinator who'd met them in the lobby of her hotel; one of the less expensive but still nice establishments in Honolulu.
The young woman dressed in shorts and halter top looked from one cop to the other, her sunburned face tense. Kono had already noted that unpainted nails had been gnawed to the quick. The girl certainly seemed at least a little uptight.
"So the whole thing can be set up without actually having any interaction with the company booking space at the show?" asked Lori Weston. Danny had called her last night after visiting Steve to take her up on the offer to help them out.
"Yeah, it can all be done online now; from the size of the space you rent to put your booth in, to the color of the carpet you rent to put in it."
"Have you had much experience at doing this kind of work?" asked Kono.
"Well, sort of." answered the nervous looking woman.
"Sort of?" asked Lori Weston, her carefully tweezed brows rising.
"Well, yeah. I've actually worked at trade shows before but being in charge of one is new. I have to admit, it's a lot more stressful than I'd imagined." she said with an unsure smile.
There's something going on with this chick, thought the profiler temporarily attached to Five-0. This feels like old times.
…..
Steve, Danny in tow, walked slowly back to his room from the meeting with his physicians. After the remark he'd made to Dr. Fanning he hadn't elaborated on his decision to try the new drug. The rest of the meeting was taken up by planning when and how the treatment is to come about.
Now, with the two of them alone, the detective felt it was time to ask Steve how he wanted to break the news to his team.
"So, Steven," he began as they reached the room his friend had occupied for the last few days, "How are we going to break this to our ohana?"
Steve actually chuckled this time at Danny's use of the word 'we'. Of course his loyal friend would take on some of the burden relaying to their team what may be upsetting news.
"Steve?" asked Danny, puzzled as to why his partner was laughing.
Sobering, the exhausted looking man replied, "I don't know, Danny.", then tiredly plopped onto the bed and closed his eyes against the headache that had made a thunderous return. His vision seemed to be dimming and brightening in time to his heartbeat and he was once again frighteningly exhausted. His gums are bleeding again and it's making him incredibly queasy. He wondered if this is the way it's going to be in the upcoming weeks. The transfusion had seemed to help at first but its effects were surprisingly brief. Tina said they were only going to transfuse one unit right now pending further instructions. Because of a danger of adverse reactions if transfusions are required on a regular basis they are being conservative for the moment.
At seven this morning when he'd had his transfusion it had been only one unit. We'll see how it goes, sweetie." The large motherly woman had crooned as she'd unhooked him from the line that led to a now empty bag of packed red cells. "Once you decide what your treatment is going to be, your doctors may change the amount and the frequency."
Thought Steve as he now sat massaging his temples, The transfusion was only this morning and I already feel like shit.
"I think it's time to let them in on this, Steven. They're all worried about you." said Danny as he took a seat at the side of the bed.
"Yeah, well, they can join the club." said Steve tiredly. "To be honest, D, I'm worried about me. This thing is a bitch."
"I know." said Danny softly, "But we're gonna get through this."
"I hope you're right." chuffed Steve turning his face away from his friend. With every fiber he is now engaged with an enemy threatening to blow his tough guy act all to hell.
*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*
Will try to update within a week but, until I beat Windows 10 into submission once and for all, I can't promise it will come about. Please let me know what you think of this chapter. Was all the medical gobbledygook understandable? Tried really hard to make it so.