Chapter 28
For Starsky the rest of that night passed by him in a blaze of agony. Every muscle, every bone and sinew seemed to be on fire and his skin felt hot to the touch. Pains arced through his head and his fingertips and feet felt as though they'd been dipped in molten metal and despite the tube helping him to breathe, he felt as though he couldn't get enough oxygen into his body. Inwardly he groaned, trying to keep his attention focused on Hutch's voice.
In the past, when he'd been sick or injured, the blond was the one who'd seen him through. Hutch had a way of diverting the brunet's attention away from his hurts. His velvety smooth voice was soothing and ordinarily Starsky could drift away on a cushion of mid western vowels. This time though, even the flaxen haired cop's dulcet tones could do nothing to distract him from his ordeal and by the time dawn was breaking, Starsky felt like screaming for someone, somewhere to knock him out again and take away the pain.
Elle came in to check on Starsky frequently and seemed pleased with his progress. In the quiet conversations she had with Hutch, she told the blond that his partner seemed to be responding well to the antidote and despite the fact that he was spiking a fever of over 102, he was holding his own and it showed that the antidote should be working to reverse the paralysis.
'And exactly how do we test that?' Hutch asked quietly.
'Well you said he was beginning to twitch his finger.'
'Yeah' the blond replied guardedly.
'Let's take it from there.' Elle bent over the bed and pressed her fingers to the pulse in Starsky's neck. It was fast, but seemed strong. She carded her fingers through her patient's matted curls. They were damp with sweat and Starsky had an angry red flush across his cheeks. Carefully, Elle took the pause pads from the brunet's eyes where she'd placed them to protect them.
'Dave, I know you're not very comfortable right now….'
Comfortable? That's an understatement Doc. Help me, gimme sumthin to take the pain away huh?
'….but I think the drug is working. Hutch said you could move your finger. Can you do that for me now?'
Can I? Finger huh? Today a finger tomorrow the world Hutch said. Ok finger…..move.
Elle watched closely and obediently Starsky's left index finger twitched. It was a small movement but it was still a movement nonetheless and had been done on command. 'That's great Dave, that's really good.'
Uh huh? Terrific!
'I want you to try something else now. You may not be able to do it, but I want you to try to open your eyes for me. Can you do that?'
Well now that's the question Doc. Can I? Dunno, but I'll give it a go. Wish the pains would go though, I can't concentrate…..can't ignore it. Oh for fucks sake Davey quit feelin' sorry for yourself and start workin' huh?
Feeling as though he were trying to climb Mount Everest, Starsky concentrated on his eyes. His lids felt as though they were made of lead and it had been so long since he'd been able to move anything under his own steam that for a moment he almost forgot how to do it. Focusing all his attention on that one single movement, the brunet tried as hard as he could to lift his eyelids. At first nothing happened. At first, there was no movement at all and Starsky felt as though he were on a hiding to nothing. A wave of frustration and fear overwhelmed him. What if despite the antidote he would never be able to move again? What of he never got to see Hutch again…..or his Mom or even Nicky?
Galvanised by the fearful thought into trying even harder, Starsky steadied himself and with a titanic effort, he fixed all his powers onto his left eyelid. Nothing happened for a hundred years but finally, as he was about to give up, a thin sliver of light appeared beneath his thick black lashes. Spurred on by his success, Starsky tried once again and this time was rewarded by more light, this time from both eyes and a blaze of colour so bright it almost blinded him.
For a moment, Starsky couldn't understand what he was looking at. Robbed of his sight for almost three weeks, his brain took a while to start to process the images again but slowly they came into sharper focus and the two bright blue blobs that had hovered before his eyes coalesced into two sparkling orbs and Hutch's eyes smiled down at him.
'Well hey there partner' the blond said softly, his face cracking into a grin. 'Good to see you again. Welcome back to the world of the living.'
Hutch, buddy….I can seeeee. God that feels so good. Ok well what else can I do? Um… nuthin. Zip, zilch, nada…..fuck!
'That's great Dave' Elle's face came into view. You're making real good progress here. I know you might think it's slow, but you're doing great.'
Make the pain stop Doc. Starsky put all his expression into his eyes and stared hard at the blond. He focused on Hutch's golden face for an eternity and slowly the blond's eyebrows V'd. Something in Starsky's eyes……something years of reading the expression in those indigo blue eyes made Hutch ask. 'Are you in pain buddy? Are ya hurtin'? Um….Can you move your finger if you are?'
Both Hutch and Elle watched as the left index finger twitched.
'On a scale of 1 to 10, where 10 is the worst pain, have you got pain less than five?' Elle asked. There was no movement, but Starsky's eyes rolled sideways, seeking out his partner.
'Is it up to 10?' Hutch asked. Starsky closed his eyes slowly, not wanting Hutch to see the hopelessness in them. The finger didn't move.
Quietly Hutch asked 'Is it worse than 10?'
The finger twitched almost emphatically and the blond swallowed, unable to comprehend what it would be like to be trapped in a pain ridden body with no escape route. He put his hand on Starsky's shoulder. 'Not long now buddy. As soon as she can Elle will give you somethin' for that.'
Tell her to hurry the fuck up huh? Jeez I wish I could tell ya. I wish I could….never mind…..I'm just happy to be able to see ya, ya big blond Blintz.
Elle however seemed to want to push the envelope one stage further. She looked at the reading on the monitors and checked the drip feed flowing into Starsky's left arm. 'Dave, I think you're doing really well. I want to try something else, something bigger. I want to see if you can breathe on your own. I think you're strong enough and I think the drug is working fast enough. I promise if you can't do this, I'll reconnect the tube, but my guess is that you can do this.'
Guess? I don't want you to guess Doc. Now is not a good time to guess. I really don't think I can….oh Jeez, she's doin' it. She's reachin' for the hose. She's…..ok ok Davey. You can do this. Don't panic, just concentrate on takin' a breath huh? You opened your eyes for Gods sake, surely you can do a little thing like breathin' on your own. Ok ok don't panic. She's reaching for the switch, she's switched it off and…..oh my God, I can't….can't breathe…..can't do this I'm suffocatin'…..can't…..can't……for Gods sake breathe!
Hutch and Elle watched the brunet for signs of life. Starsky's eyes were wide with fear. For what seemed like an age nothing happened and Elle's finger hovered over the switch to turn the respirator back on. As she moved again, Hutch held her back. Leaning over Starsky's body, he took the brunet's head in his hands and looked deep into the indigo eyes.
'You can do this Starsk, I know you can. It's not hard, you've just forgotten. Look at me and concentrate huh? I want you to concentrate on breathin' I know you can do it and so do you. C'mon buddy….Starsky. HEY, Starsky I told you to breathe goddammit!'
For a second Starsky's eyes fastened on Hutch's. The feeling of suffocation was almost too much to bear. He wanted sympathy and he wanted reassurance and yet Hutch was yelling at him to breathe and what Hutch wanted, Starsky would try to deliver. The sound of Hutch's usually calm voice raised in anger surprised the brunet so much that without really thinking about it he took a small but significant breath. The monitor registered the triumph and Elle smiled.
'Well done Dave, you're doing it. That's great! I want you to keep breathing on your own for a little while yet and if you can do that, I'll be able to take that tube out of your throat. Would you like that?'
Almost as much as I want the Dodgers to win next season. I can do this Doc. Take the damned thing out now…..please?
Starsky's thoughts went unheard though and as Elle checked one final time on the machine by the brunet's side, Hutch once again took a hold of Starsky's hand and sat back down on the chair by the bed. With his head still unable to move, Starsky could no longer see his partner and yet somehow, staring up at the ceiling and blinking and breathing on his own seemed so tremendous that his fear was for a while forgotten.
Hutch watched the steady rise and fall of the brunet's chest in satisfaction. It was such an enormous step for Starsky to take and the blond felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. The cop felt confident now that Starsky would recover although he was left in no doubt that it would be a battle for his buddy to return to his former self.
Starsky however was now having doubts. Each breath was such an effort that he felt that if he stopped concentrating he would surely suffocate. Sweat trickled annoyingly down the sides of his face and dropped in smarting droplets into his eyes. Slow as they were to respond, he couldn't always blink them away in time and they added to his discomfort. The euphoria of regaining the power of sight and of taking that first breath was now waning fast. He was tired – dreadfully tired and yet so scared to sleep in case he would stop breathing or in case this was all another dream and he would wake up still paralysed and blind.
At his side, Hutch felt the tension in his friend's body and his empathy with his partner told him what the trouble was.
'It's ok Starsk, I'm still here with ya buddy. I won't let anything happen to you, I promise.'
I'm scared Hutch. I wouldn't tell ya that, but I'm scared shitless. I thought it'd be better when the drug wore off but what if I stop breathin'? I have to think about every breath. I have to concentrate on it. I never realised breathin' was such an exhaustin' thing t'do. Help me?
'You're gonna be ok, I promise. Elle wouldn't have left you alone if she thought you'd get into trouble. Try an' relax some Starsk, it'll make it easier then. It'll help if you don't think so hard about things.
You try relaxin' Blondie! I've got a hose in my throat, a tube up where a tube don't belong an' I'm learnin' to breathe all over again. Could you relax? Huh?
'Think about what we can do after all this is over huh? We should have a vacation maybe.'
Only if I get to chose where we go. I don't trust your vacation ideas. Damp tents, mosquitos and warm beer is not my idea of a rest.
'We could go on a camping trip. I know a great camp ground right by a lake up in the hills. The sceneries wonderful and so long as we take some repellent the mosquitos aren't too bad.'
See, I told ya! You have a one track mind Blondie. What's the matter with St Kitts and a week of sun sea and chicks?
'But I guess you'd prefer some Caribbean island with all the comforts huh? Well, hurry up and get well Starsk. The choice is yours.'
Another hour passed during which for increasingly long periods Starsky forgot about thinking about breathing. By the time Elle came back into the room and threw back the curtains another hour later letting in the morning sunshine, Hutch had dosed off and Starsky was feeling more and more confident about blinking and getting enough oxygen into his lungs. The doctor smiled down at her patient, checked his pulse and oxygen sats and nodded.
'You know, I think we can dispense with the respirator now. Would you like to get rid of it Dave?'
Is the Pope a Catholic Doc?
Hutch woke up from his sleep to hear Elle's decision. As the doctor went away to get her stuff together, he leaned over the bed. 'Hear that Starsk? Not long now buddy. Not long till you can answer me back.'
The doctor and a Connie, the nurse came back into the room and Starsky blinked furiously. He'd had a respirator hose removed before and knew it was not the most pleasant experience. Still unable to move his body or limbs, the brunet felt helpless and just a little fearful that he would be unable to continue making progress but Elle was unstoppable. As Starsky's eyes followed her hands, she untied the gauze from around the hose and ran a damp cloth over the brunet's lips, freeing them from the plastic.
'Ok Dave. I can't pretend this wont hurt, but when I say, I want you to try to cough. I'll get this done as fast as possible and then you'll feel more comfortable.'
Starsky blinked his understanding and then closed his eyes. Somehow after all this time of hating the invader in his throat, he felt an attachment to it. It had kept him alive and had done the work for him. Now he was going to be on his own. Was he ready? Too late to argue, Elle grasped the tube.
'Cough' she commanded and as Starsky tried, she pulled the tube clear of his throat. It felt as though she'd taken most of the lining of his trachea with it and Starsky felt empty, his throat sore, raw and swollen. Slowly he tried to swallow, choked, coughed and panicked. Elle was back with him in a moment.
'It'll take a moment for your body to adjust Dave, just ride it out for a few minutes, ok?'
In answer, Starsky opened his tearing eyes and drew in a hoarse, rasping breath. He looked past the doctor to Hutch's concerned eyes.
'Fffffuuuuuuck…caaaammmmmmpinnnng' he rasped painfully.
