Influenza
Casey was yanked out of sleep by the sound of Kelly throwing up in the bathroom. Jumping to his feet, the blonde lieutenant made the oh so familiar trek from his bedroom to the bathroom to check on his friend, who'd been sick all day with the flu.
He'd woken up that morning to the sound of Kelly puking, at first he'd thought Severide was just hungover, but when Kelly about crawled back to bed instead of brushing it off and getting on with his day, Matt knew something was wrong. Kelly threw up three more times in as many hours, before Casey finally got the idea to bed him down in the bathroom so he'd be right by the toilet the next time he threw up. Severide had spent all afternoon and all night on the tiled floor with a pillow under his head and covered in a sheet from the closet. He'd fall asleep for an hour at a time, but he had to lay awake on the floor for two hours before he even reached that point. Eating anything that day had definitely been out of the question, and he hadn't even been able to keep ginger ale down. And as the day turned to night, Kelly only seemed to get worse, and though Casey knew the first day was the worst and Kelly was bound to be better tomorrow, he couldn't help feeling a little concerned.
Of course he knew however he felt, paled in comparison to what Kelly was going through. He'd throw up, he'd switch between hot and cold, it was impossible to get comfortable, and to top that all off, he'd had to change his clothes and get a sponge bath after one particularly violent bout of vomiting had strained the muscles in his body and caused his bladder to void. Matt hoped that once Kelly could actually fall asleep, that he'd be able to forget about the worse parts of this day.
The door was ajar and the lights were on, pulling the door open enough to step in he saw Kelly hadn't even made it to the toilet this time, instead he'd gotten up and was bent over the bathroom sink. Casey leaned over beside Kelly to get a look, on the job they'd seen so many people throw up that it stood to reason they'd all be immune to it by now. On the job was one thing, but at home Casey couldn't stop himself from cringing as he watched Kelly regurgitate, partly because he hated to see his best friend going through this, and knowing there wasn't anything he could do to stop it. Matt figured Kelly had to have already thrown up everything he ate yesterday and probably the day before as well, by all reasoning there shouldn't have been anything left, and it looked like there was little more than ginger ale coming up now...then Casey noticed a dark red spot hit the white porcelain sink...and another, and another.
"Kelly?"
Casey bent over to look at Severide and saw blood dripping from his nose and hitting the sink. A sense of relief hit Casey that it was just a nosebleed and he wasn't starting to throw up his own blood, still, the two together created a particularly unsettling sight, making Casey feel all the more powerless. He reached over and grabbed a handful of Kleenex from the box on the counter, and as Kelly started to gasp and wheeze as he came up empty, Casey waited until he rinsed his mouth out to hand him the Kleenex to pinch off the nosebleed. Kelly groaned as he straightened his spine and tilted his head back. His eyes were bloodshot and his overall complexion had lost some color and almost looked gray. Casey blinked and blamed it on the crappy overhead lights.
"Take it easy, Kelly," he said as he soothingly rubbed one hand in circles on Kelly's back, "just calm down."
Kelly let out a small moan. He'd hardly said two words all day because another aspect of the flu he'd gotten was a throat so sore that anything longer than one syllable was pushing it. He staggered over to the tub and sat on the edge of it and tucked his chin down to his chest.
"No, Kelly, tilt your head back," Casey told him when he turned his head from cleaning the sink and the countertop.
Kelly let out a muffled sigh and did as he was told. Matt could tell that he was miserable and just wanted this whole thing to be over, and he felt bad there wasn't anything more that he could do than what he'd been doing, which wasn't much. He couldn't get Kelly to eat, he could hardly get him to drink anything, and anything he did, Casey just wound up cleaning the bathroom again when it came back up.
After a few minutes, Kelly balled the Kleenex up and tossed them in the wastebasket and cocked his head to the side, pressed his hand against his forehead and closed his eyes.
"I know you're tired of me asking," Casey said, "but is there anything I can get you?"
Kelly shook his head slowly and opened his eyes, and got out a very low, "No..."
Matt stepped over towards the tub and pressed his hand against Kelly's forehead, "You're still a little warm, is there anything I can do for you?"
Kelly shook his head again.
"You just want to go back to bed?"
Kelly shot him a weak look that said what he currently couldn't, he'd get back on the floor but he wasn't going to sleep. Slowly he got back down on his makeshift bed and laid on his back and looked up at the ceiling. Casey ran a washrag under the cold water, wrung it out and placed it over Kelly's eyes.
"Try to take it easy," Casey knew he might as well be talking to a brick wall, but he felt he had to say something, "I'll see how you're doing later."
Kelly merely nodded once but otherwise didn't respond. Casey turned off the overhead lights, only leaving on the bulbs over the sink's mirror, leaving the bathroom in a dimmer shade of illumination. He stumbled back to his room and back to bed, he'd catnapped off and on the last couple hours, trying not to fall in too deep a sleep incase Kelly needed him, but taking care of his best friend all day had already proven exhausting for the Truck lieutenant.
"Matt? ...Matt?"
Casey opened his eyes and automatically looked to the clock to see how long Kelly had gone this time without getting sick. He thought he was seeing things when the red numbers on the clock said 4:50 A.M. He got out of bed and returned to the bathroom.
"Kelly?"
To his surprise Kelly was still on the floor and laying on his side.
"What is it?"
Kelly turned his head to look at him. In a voice nowhere near as strong as it normally was, he told Matt, "I don't feel like I'm gonna throw up anymore."
Casey blinked a few times to adjust to the light in the room, he wasn't sure he understood. "What?"
"I've been able to turn over and sleep, and it didn't make me sick," Kelly said, "I think it's over."
If Casey wasn't so exhausted he might actually jump up and down at that news. Instead he let out a sigh and said, "That's great, Kelly."
"Yeah, but..."
Matt turned on the overhead lights and after adjusting to them too, he got a better look at Kelly and saw that his clothes were stuck to him and he was plastered in sweat.
"You need to get cleaned up," Matt realized what Kelly was trying to say.
Kelly nodded, "I need a shower."
Casey admired his friend's enthusiasm, but he was leery on the idea, "I think you'd be better off getting a bath, don't have to try standing up for a long period of time."
Kelly shook his head as he moved to get up, "Don't want a bath."
But Matt did notice he was slightly wobbly on his feet.
"Humor me," he said as he went over and turned on the taps for the tub.
Over the running water he asked Kelly, "How're you feeling?" He realized Kelly had to already be a lot better if he could actually talk.
"Thirsty."
Casey picked up the can of ginger ale on the counter, it was warm, and no doubt flat as water.
"I'll get you another one."
After Kelly got cleaned up and changed in a clean set of clothes, he wandered out to the living room and collapsed on the couch.
"How're you doing?" Casey asked him.
"My throat still hurts."
"But obviously not as bad as yesterday."
Kelly shook his head. "My back hurts...my stomach hurts..."
A sudden noise grabbed both of their attention.
"Oh yeah, and today I'm actually hungry," Kelly added.
"That's good," Casey said, "I'll see if there's any chicken noodle soup in the kitchen."
Kelly grimaced, "Don't want it."
"Why not?"
"Whose bright idea was it to eat 500 egg noodles after throwing up all day?" Kelly asked.
"Good point," Matt cringed at the thought. "What does sound good?"
"Tomato soup."
Casey laughed, "Are you serious?"
Kelly shrugged, "There's nothing in it, it's smooth."
Casey nodded, "I'll see what we got...you want something to drink?"
"Orange juice."
Casey's eyes bulged, "All that acid? Do you know what that's going to do to your stomach?"
The look on Severide's face however told Casey he wasn't going to win this argument. He knew he should be grateful that anything sounded good after the day Kelly had had yesterday, and he just hoped there weren't any hiccups today and Kelly would actually be able to keep it down.
To Matt's surprise and relief, Kelly did more than keep his breakfast down, he ate two bowls of soup and drank half the jug of orange juice. He'd made a comment while he ate about getting so dehydrated yesterday that his hands felt like fish scales. Mentally Casey went over everything they would probably need to keep in the fridge while Severide recovered and ran it against what they actually had. For the most part they'd be fine, but he definitely needed another case of ginger ale, every time one got warm because Kelly didn't drink it, Casey cracked open another one that he would just barely sip, then it would go to waste too, and he'd replace it with another cold one, knowing they'd hardly get drunk but knowing Kelly needed something to keep going.
After eating, Kelly seemed to lose whatever strength he had and laid down on the couch and fell asleep a few minutes later. Casey hoped he'd actually stay asleep and be able to rest that day. He lightly brushed his hand across Kelly's forehead, still warm but not as much as yesterday, and Severide didn't seem to notice the touch except to roll over on his side facing the back of the couch. Casey went to the kitchen and checked out the fridge and freezer and made a list of the things it would probably be a good idea to keep on hand while Kelly recovered from this flu, then he went to the bathroom and gave every surface a deep cleaning until he was about to choke on the fumes of bleach and Lysol. Then he changed the sheets to Kelly's bed and washed the ones from yesterday on the hottest setting possible.
Kelly rested for most of the day, at dinner he was hungry again but nothing sounded good so Casey opened another can of tomato soup. Every so often Matt could hear him moan softly as the hot soup burnt his throat where it was still sore.
"How're you doing?" he asked.
Kelly grunted, "Throat still hurts."
"It'll get better."
"I know, but when?"
"You'll feel better after you sleep tonight," Casey said, "at least now you should actually sleep."
Kelly sighed as he leaned back in his chair. "That actually sounds pretty good."