It was nighttime before I woke up. I didn't know what day it was. All I could discern was that it was dark outside. Then, my mind told me to act. The girls were probably waiting for me. They were my first thought, my only thought.
I struggled to get up. It took some time. I was lightheaded from the high I received. I was still shaking and feeling like my chest was on fire, but the fever had broken. I was sweaty and bloody from the medication, but nothing indicated that my baby was aborted (although I was unsure if there was death inside of me, holding on until miscarriage). For the moment, I was safe.
All I managed to do for maybe an hour was cross the room and throw up in a garbage can. It was not just the morning sickness that bothered me. I felt like I was expelling all of the disease inside of me, most of it being mucus of all sorts of colors. It cleared my airways with a lot more coughing. Some of it was stuck in what was left of my lungs and stuck there.
But it worked. Whatever I used was helpful in some ways. However, I was not sure how it was going to react in children. I was a pregnant woman. My girls were sicker and so tiny.
Smaller doses, Jeanie. Make it less potent.
That Eureka moment made me feel so stupid. But it also made me think back. How did I mix the concoction? What clues did my delirium leave behind? Would I even be able to replicate what made me better?
I had to try. When I finished throwing up, I felt weaker. My head rested against the wall. I tried focusing my eyes, for they became watery from all of the expulsion. I noted the glass bottles on the counters. Tools for measuring and smashing pills were littered around the shiny glass pieces, all of it mixed together. Fuck, I left one hell of a mess.
I used the wall for support and drew up to my full height with shaky legs. Then, I staggered like a drunk out of Rosie's Bar to the other side of the room. I used the counter to keep myself upright and tried to study the ingredients before me. Me, who used to out-drink the Marines at Rosie's almost every time, was now a prisoner of an illness that took life out of me. Even my dismay at the last of some medicants brought me shame.
I selfishly medicated myself and not used it on Shannon and Annabeth. My God. Guilt ran through me. I had to go to a pharmacist to get what I needed and Hawkeye had to sign off on it. And he was not here!
I tried reasoning with myself. My daughters could not be my mice. If the formula did not work, they would have been dead and their deaths would be on my conscience. One of them could have an allergy and die from suffocation. It could make them worse and that too was a way to death I could not bear.
But the fact that I was up and moving was somewhat beneficial to them. There was some energy in me to help them. If I received enough rest, I could walk for help. I could talk to Hawkeye, BJ and Charles.
They did not need to know that I am sick.
I can't tell what happened next. Like a surreal walk through space, I was upstairs and with my daughters, night and day. I was up and down those stairs, tending to their every need. I answered as many calls at the door as I could. Mrs. Pettigrew and Larry even visited once, but they were too sick to stay long. Mrs. Pettigrew hoped to get some medication and be on her way.
"I don't have much," I admitted to her. "Just rest. Help is on the way."
"And what about you?" she snapped at me. "Who is taking care of you?"
"Don't worry about that." I crossed my arms like an X on my chest. "I am here. I am standing. That's what matters the most."
I made sure Mrs. Pettigrew and Larry were well taken care of. I half-carried them back to their home and gave them some common medications. When they comfortable in bed and finally asleep, I was back with my girls. They were hanging on. Some swelling had decreased, but they were still fevered and weak. I tried racking my brain for how to get them a dose of what I had.
Time passed. I walked between the two houses. I begged someone in the outer reaches of humanity to give me an opportunity. And oddly enough, the chance to act came when I least expected it. Hawkeye and BJ burst through the door late one afternoon, looking to be closer to home. Charles was ill already and trying to help other patients. With some help on the side, he persuaded Hawkeye and BJ to go home and to check on me. In the true Winchester fashion, he even insulted them, blue blood upbringing and all. It was enough to get the Packard back in the driveway.
"Jeanie!" Hawkeye was screaming my name. "Jeanie, where are you?! Are you ok?"
BJ was yelling for me too. "Jeanie! Are you ok?"
I was out of the girls' bedroom and at the top of the stairs in seconds. "Over here!"
"Oh, my God." Hawkeye ran up the stairs, two at a time, and hugged me so tightly. "How are you? The girls?"
He asked more questions, a million of them a minute. I could not answer them all. I pointed to their bedroom. I could not talk. I was so scared to. If I said that Annabeth and Shannon were ailing, I would feel the blame from him. Letting him see it himself gave some sort of guilt on his shoulders.
Hawkeye almost dropped me, he was so horrified about the possibilities. Instead, to keep from screaming, he took my hand alone and we walked in as parents to a nightmare. BJ was behind us in seconds.
"What did you give them?" he asked me.
"Whatever I could find," I admitted tearfully. "Love and care. Begging. Maybe some prayer. I don't know anymore." I started crying.
"Are you ok?" Hawkeye repeated to me. He held my hand tighter and tried wiping away my tears with his other digits. "Do you need anything?"
This was the moment I could have told him I was pregnant again. I could have admitted to him that I was ill too and required rest. Hawkeye would have taken over immediately. He and BJ would have rotated shifts, between me and the girls and then the clinic. Hawkeye would worry over me and make things right again.
But I am a strong woman. I could not abandon my children and my husband when I so selfishly wanted to stop and sleep. It was a hard choice to make, but the living had to be preserved before myself. If I miscarried, I would go insane with grief. I had lost a baby before. But Shannon and Annabeth were in the flesh. They needed my love now.
"I think I need to change out their sheets and get some hot water," I decided. "I'll stay here."
"Jeanie, when was the last time you slept?" BJ asked. He tried taking my other side, to sandwich me between him and Hawkeye. "You shouldn't weaken yourself."
I waved my hand dismissively. "They need me."
"Jeanie, please," Hawkeye begged, tugging me to our bedroom. "You need sleep too."
"No," I protested loudly. "I can't leave them."
"They sleep peacefully, you go night-night," Hawkeye decided. "You got it?"
"Scout's honor," I replied, with my left hand sort of in the air. "You can count on me."
I don't know if they suspected anything. Sometimes, one or the other or both will notice something out of the ordinary with me. After all, they both suspected that I was in deep water just before my last suicide attempt. They never said a word and went along with my pretend happiness and tried to believe that I was in top shape.
When Hawkeye relaxed a little, he and I went over everything Shannon and Annabeth had taken and what other steps I took to care for them. BJ chimed in about the recent developments in solving the puzzle of how and why this disease progresses. He and Hawkeye started arguing over what will work with children and began ignoring my additions. I wanted to tell them what I tried and the mess in the exam rooms. I imagined Hawkeye signing my permission slip and watching me skip into the sunset, off to save the town from harm.
I was not heard, even when I yelled. The doctors were so involved with what worked and why that they did not seem to want to hear a nurse's opinion. It was the same argument they seemed to have had, perhaps since BJ stepped foot in the clinic. They were so involved that they did not realize that I escaped and was heading downstairs.
My head started ringing again. Their raised voices made it harder to think. I had to somehow save Shannon and Annabeth. Then, everyone else can benefit. I just had to remember how!
~00~
Warm bodies, I sense, are not
Machines that can only make money.
Past, perfect, tense,
Words for a feeling and
All I've discovered.
I'll be along, son,
With medicine supposed to
Designed to make you high.
I'll be along, son, with words
For a feeling and all I've discovered.
Old, bad eyes, old, bad eyes…
A new routine was established. Every morning, Hawkeye and BJ checked in with Charles at the clinic. They stayed there for part of the day before returning home with new remedies and knowledge. I stayed all day with Annabeth and Shannon and hardly moved. I would endure my morning sickness with them.
I always lied to them and told them I was fine. I did get some sleep when the girls did, but it was never for long. I was lifting a head to prevent choking. I was quenching their parched throats and lips. I was cleaning their beds when they could not get up to relieve themselves or throw up in a bucket. I was thinking back to how the hell I managed to get this far.
I don't know how many days passed. I think it was a week or so since this madness began. But I became braver in my quest to find the right solution and to keep them alive. I would leave Annabeth and Shannon alone for longer periods of time. It was guilt that brought this about, between caring for the neighbors and going back to the exam rooms for more consultation with my mess.
So far, I was able to determine that I was using some kind of penicillin and some odd drugs. There was also the Triagesic, which I had run out of. This was a new pill that came on the market just before I went to Korea and was used for all sorts of maladies. It was supposed to relieve fevers and aches mainly and could be our key.
Eventually, I found that it was the ticket. Once I did a little more digging and experimenting, I found the combination I used on myself. From there, I was able to determine an estimated dosage based on weight, height and age. I would have to go to the pharmacy to obtain the needed supply, but I'd have to confront Hawkeye this time. I was not going to sugarcoat this anymore. I had to tell him.
I had to hurry. The girls' situation (even Larry and Mrs. Pettigrew's) was dire. While the swelling had decreased somewhat, blood pressure increased and the fever did not break. A human being could not live that long under such heat in their body.
My chance came again when he and BJ arrived midafternoon. They just wanted to check in, have lunch and head back to the clinic. But they were exhausted. I was surprised they were not afflicted like Charles was and were keeping up and only requested me to make some food when I had a moment.
I came from the girls' room, tired and grave. I told them I'd be there in a few minutes. I was giving Annabeth a sponge bath, in the hopes that some of the fever will recede before giving her the magic dose. When I returned from making lunch for the two doctors, I continued rubbing the cool cloth around her little body until Hawkeye showed up. I looked up in his tired blue eyes and nearly choked out tears.
On loneliness comes,
Go see the foreman,
Go see the profiteer.
On loneliness drives.
We're taking our time movin'
Shit for this holy slime.
Old, bad eyes, old, bad eyes.
Old, bad eyes, almighty fear.
The shepherd won't leave me alone.
He's in my face and I,
The shepherd of my days, and
I want you here by my heart
And in my head.
I can't stop 'til I'm dead.
He looked like hell. He had not slept. He had hardly eaten too. His eyes were red from crying. His body was a skeleton in medical garb and a lab coat. I could not tell if he was the living dead or not.
"Come on, Jeanie," Hawkeye whispered. "We need to call Dad. We need to tell him the girls will not make it. He might come back in time to say goodbye."
"No," I protested. "They will live."
Hawkeye was perplexed. While he normally would have been hysteria in thinking of death, he was oddly stable. My denial of the truth hit him harder. His eyes watered with hope and disillusion. He pulled me up immediately and led me out of the room.
In the hallway, he was less gentle. "This took my sister and my mother. How can you say these girls will live? There is no cure."
The words came out all at once. Happy to be letting him this one secret, I talked. "Hawkeye, please listen to me. I need you to sign something for the pharmacist. Tell him you need Triagesic and allow your wife to pick it up."
"What?" BJ was nearing us and had overheard. "Jeanie, that's for pain relief. That isn't going to help."
"It will," I protested. I was not backing down. "Trust me." I turned to Hawkeye. "Please, Love. For the sake of our daughters, please let me go. If you don't, I will just have to rob someone. You cannot stop me. We can take the easy way or the hard way."
Hawkeye and BJ knew that voice. When I was right, I pushed back hard. I was trained in mixing medications. I could administer and cure. I was a nurse, for God's sake! The Army gave me an education that I was proud of still.
My husband relented. He took some paper and pen from his pocket and wrote me my pass. "Go."
I didn't waste any time in grabbing the paper and running. There wasn't time to change. I ran past BJ and put on my old Army boots from the downstairs closet. With all of my strength, I rammed through the door and started walking. I was not taking the Packard. I could not afford to leave Hawkeye and BJ hanging if someone called them back to the clinic.
To be honest, I don't remember much of my trek. I knew the streets were almost deserted. Those who were well were wearing white OR masks. Others stumbled their way to the nearest house or medical facility. Nobody took note of Mrs. Pierce, local lunatic. It appeared that I was just on a stroll through Crabapple Cove.
Upon arrival, I was winded and my chest was pounding. But I managed to get there in time. The pharmacist was not pleased to see me. I barged in his door and entered the facility, despite him closing for the day for no reason, and demanded help. He was ornery in return and kept trying to shove me out the door and tell me that no woman told him what to do. I was not giving up though, especially since he tried escorting me physically out the door.
I fought back. I vaguely recalled basic training. I was so good at fighting back then. I was nearly eighteen and on top of the world, away from the horror I experienced at home. Whatever they taught me came back viciously. I wasn't fighting for my life. It was for Annabeth and Shannon. It was for Larry and Mrs. Pettigrew. It was for everyone.
Old, bad eyes, old, bad eyes.
Old, bad eyes, almighty fear.
The shepherd won't leave me alone.
He's in my face and I,
The shepherd of my days, and
I want you here by my heart
And in my head.
I can't stop 'til I'm dead.
Here I am, locking horns
With the stallion,
Failing to hold my head up,
I'll go back again.
Pillar of Davidson, feeling
Too hard to go down,
Cheaper than all the souls
He will walk upon.
Deeper and deeper in love,
So I hold my head up.
Cheaper than all the souls,
He will walk upon.
Pillar of Davidson, feeling
Too hard to go down.
"Mrs. Pierce!" The pharmacist was enraged and fought back. When he was pinned up against his wall, he was outraged. "Mrs. Pierce, this is ridiculous! What is the matter with you?"
I took Hawkeye's note out of pocket and waved it in front of him. "We need an order of Triagesic. Now."
"Are you insane?" he demanded. "This is an epidemic and you want some Triagesic? You came out to harass me like?"
I tightened my grip. "If you don't, thousands of lives will be on your head."
"Mrs. Pierce, Triagesic isn't meant for infections."
"It's not the main one, no. But it's a main ingredient. Fill up ten milligrams to go."
Behind his counter of poisons, he had it there. I could see the bottle and reach for it while keeping him under guard. But I was not that crazy. I just had to bend him to my will. He had to see the errors of his ways. And I didn't need to help him along this time.
He just took a better look at Hawkeye's note and gasped. "He says the same thing and for you to pick it up. Doctor Pierce put down that this is an emergency?"
"That's right," I said, letting him go to tend to this business. "This is an emergency."
The pharmacist did not need to be told twice this time. Now that I had some proper respectability behind me, he was willing to help. Quickly he filled the order and took my money. Oddly enough, he gave me five milligrams more than we asked and never charged more.
I rushed back home as fast as I could. When I reached the front porch, BJ and Hawkeye were there. One of them took the package and other demanded to know what I had concocted. Wheezing, I went through what I thought were the steps to crush, mix and put together.
BJ was the one taking the instructions. He scratched his head. "Primitive, but it sounds like it'll work."
"There's no time to waste," Hawkeye added. "We have to try. Damned if we do and damned if we don't."
I was ready to faint. When BJ went inside and started working out the formula in his head, Hawkeye held me. Together, we were not just a medical team. We were parents. We were close to losing our children. We had to hold it together and grief in private. For whatever comfort was given to us, we had to take. We could not sacrifice anymore.
Following lyrics are from the Live song "Pillar of Davidson".
