Chapter 8
"Where were you this morning?" Jesse chuckled as Mark entered Amanda's lab.
"Who me?" the old man asked, surprised and confused at what his young colleague found so amusing.
"Yeah, you were meant to be at that budget meeting at 9:30, we paged you three times."
"Ah damn it!" Mark shook his head "Arnie wanted to meet with me to discuss Steve's treatment, we went to the coffee shop around the corner. The budget thing totally slipped my mind".
"I'm sure the board members will understand, Steve's health is more important than a meeting" Amanda reassured him. "So what did Arnie have to say?"
"Well" Mark sighed, "Steve's been on his back for a week now, the physio's are in a couple of times a day moving his limbs, making sure they don't stiffen up while he's lying there. Obviously that's important for when the time comes for Steve to get up and get moving again."
"Any idea when that will be?" Jesse asked hesitantly.
"It was such a rapid onset, from the mild stiffness to almost total paralysis of the limbs in less than a week. But the plasma exchanges have helped and his deterioration has slowed down considerably. We still aren't out of the woods yet" he sighed "Guillain-Barré reaches a plateau within four to six weeks."
"Steve's at about week three" Amanda added.
Mark nodded "Arnie is worried about the paralysis spreading to his chest and throat. I've been noticing myself these past few days, Steve's breathing is becoming a little laboured."
"Is he thinking about ventilating?" Jesse asked glumly, hoping the answer would be 'no'.
"He's asked me to speak to Steve about it, to prepare him for the fact that it may become necessary if he gets any worse. I'm on my way to see him now, but I promised Cheryl I'd drop by and get those crime scene photos back for her."
"Oh, she was in here about ten minutes ago and picked them up" Amanda replied.
"We couldn't spot anything to help her," Jesse added "but I think she just wanted to be sure."
"Steve's a lot happier knowing we're all helping her out and keeping an eye on her." Mark smiled.
"And knowing she's keeping an eye on us" Amanda winked.
"OK, I'd better get going, I'll see you two later"
"Bye Mark" Amanda and Jesse called together as their friend left the room.
*-*-*-*-*-*-**-*-*-*-*-*-**-*-*-*-*-*-*
"There's nothing wrong with my breathing" Steve croaked. Cheryl shot him a scolding look.
"Arnie won't put you on a ventilator unless it's absolutely necessary" Mark reassured him.
"And I don't want to be fed through a tube either. I've got to pee through a tube already, isn't that enough?"
"I know Steve but this isn't about what you want. It's about what's necessary. If you have difficulty breathing and swallowing then unfortunately these are steps we'll have to take. I'm telling you this now so that if it does happen you'll be prepared."
"Where would the tube go? This tube I'd be fed through."
Mark paused. "The tube would be either inserted up your nose or directly into your stomach."
Cheryl tried not to wince as Mark then briefly described each procedure.
"And if I go on a ventilator, that'd mean wearing an oxygen mask all the time?"
"Not exactly." Mark really hated having to tell his son all of this but he knew it was best for him to be the one to deliver the news. "If your breathing worsens and you can't swallow, we'll insert a tube in your throat, it's called an endotracheal tube." He demonstrated, pressing the soft hollow of his own neck then waited to gauge his son's reaction. Cheryl covered her mouth with her hands and her eyes dropped to the floor.
"I won't be able to speak?" Steve muttered.
"No, but you'll be able to communicate by….."
"Don't say blinking dad!" Steve exploded, "don't say communicate by blinking. Dave Goodman could communicate by blinking and he asked Kate Delieb to kill him! You said it was very rare for it to get..…" Steve began to run out of steam and his gasps were audible in the small room. Mark and Cheryl were on their feet now standing over Steve, each laying a comforting hand on him.
"What are you doing?" he shouted incredulously. "I can't feel that! I can't feel you touching me. Don't you realise that you touching me and me not sensing it makes everything seem a million times worse?" They both took their seats again.
"Steve" Mark said in his most calming voice. "You've responded well to treatment. You are young enough and fit enough to stand a good chance of a full recovery." Steve rolled eyes his and let out a strangled cry but let his father continue. "Assisted ventilation and tube feeding still may not be necessary, but you need to be aware that they are possibilities." He paused "and you cannot keep comparing yourself to David Goodman."
"Could you face spending the rest of your life relying on machines, blinking at people?" Steve asked Cheryl. She didn't reply.
"It wouldn't necessarily be permanent, in fact it's highly unlikely. Once you began to show signs of improvement you'd be taken off the machines again" Mark told him.
"What if I got to that point and then I didn't improve?"
"Highly unlikely" Mark shook his head dismissively.
"But what if dad. What if it did happen?"
"I don't know what to tell you" Mark confessed.
"I know it's highly unlikely, but there is a possibility that in a few days time I could find it too hard, and Arnie will put me on machines to breathe for me and to feed me, agreed?"
Mark reluctantly nodded in agreement.
"And there is a chance, a tiny chance statistically speaking, but a chance that I may not improve sufficiently to be removed from those machines."
"There's an 80% chance you'll make a full recovery and walk out of here."
"20% chance I won't" Steve retorted.
"That 20% cover's everything from walking a little stiffly the rest of your life to..…"
"Death?"
"Which only occurs in the elderly, or where other medical factors cause complications."
Cheryl sat silently watching this battle of wills. For every silver lining Mark showed his son, Steve pointed out the looming black cloud.
"I could be on those machines forever dad"
Mark rested his head in his hands. "Worst case scenario, yes, you could be one of the extremely unlucky few. Is that what you wanted me to say?"
"If it's the truth then yes." He waited until Mark looked up at him again then thought for a moment. He trusted Cheryl implicitly but he couldn't allow her to be a witness to this. "Cheryl, could you give us a moment?" he asked.
"Sure" she smiled, masking her curiosity as she quietly left the room.
"You know dad," Steve said softly "when my head gets a little cloudy, I usually go for a run, blow the cobwebs off. Y'see, when you run, when you push your body so far it hurts, then your mind just focuses on that pain, nothing else. You can't trick it, can't take it away from those primary instincts. When I want to turn my brain off I run until it hurts." He looked at his father and their eyes met. "I can't turn my brain off in here. I'm trying to stay positive but I want to know all the possibilities, I want to know about worse case scenarios. Because if I end up blinking to communicate then discussing all this stuff is going to get pretty difficult." Mark grimly nodded his understanding.
Steve took a deep breath then stared intensely at Mark. "Dad, do you know there isn't anything I wouldn't do for you in this world?"
"Steve?" Mark asked.
"Ask me and I'd do it, whatever needed to be done I would do for you. If you needed a kidney or bone marrow or whatever, I'd give you mine." Steve swallowed hard "I'd kill somebody if you asked me to" he whispered.
"I don't understand. What's all this about?"
"Would you do the same for me?"
"I can't believe you even need to ask, you're my son, I'd do anything for you!"
"Would you kill if I asked you to?"
"If I had to, if you were in danger, I'd do what I had to, to save you." This line of discussion was becoming more and more confusing to Mark.
"Would you kill somebody if I asked you to dad?"
"What's this about?"
"Would you kill somebody if I asked you to?"
"Steve are you in trouble?"
"If I asked you to kill for me would you do it?" Steve repeated.
Mark looked sternly at his son. "Kill for you?" And as he uttered those three words Mark Sloan realised at last what his son was asking him.
"Dad?" Steve whispered, sure now his father was following his own train of thought.
"You can't ask me that!" Mark exclaimed keeping his voice as low as possible. "We sent Kate Delieb to prison for what she did."
"But did we do the right thing? Or did she?" Steve asked. "Kate Delieb helped put people with no hope out of their pain and misery. She said it herself; she was letting people regain control of their lives and their deaths. You questioned whether she wasn't more honest and courageous than you were in your convictions."
"Steve I'm a doctor, I can't…." Mark pleaded.
"You're my father." Steve swallowed hard and tried not to choke on his words. "I couldn't live like that dad, I wouldn't want to live if that's all I had." His eyes bore into Mark's "If all I could do was lie there and blink, and I was never going to get any better, I don't think I'd want to live any more."
Mark stood up "I'm not walking out on this conversation Steve, I want you to know that. But I think we both need to take a bit of time to calm down and think this over."
"Don't be too long" Steve replied sternly "you don't know how long we've got left to talk."
*-*-*-*-*-*-**-*-*-*-*-*-**-*-*-*-*-*-*
"Oh Mark" Amanda held her friend tightly as he recounted the conversation through bursts of sobs. "Ssh, it's OK" she told him.
"I've asked myself that same question time and again, I know most doctors do. When Kate Delieb was convicted I told Steve that maybe what she did wasn't really a crime. I asked myself, if David Goodman had pleaded with me to stop his suffering, what good would my morals and ethics have been to him? What kind of life and death would I have been condemning him to?"
"Steve is so confused right now Mark, so confused and worried, you know he'd never put you in a position like that."
"Do I? What if I do end up in that position? What do I do if my son asks me to….."
"C'mon, sit down" Amanda guided him towards the chair. "We know Steve is strong, and we know that it's not going to get to that point Mark."
The door flew open and Jesse ran in panting. "MARK!" he exclaimed, pointing down the corridor "Mark it's Steve, you'd better come quick!"
*-*-*-*-*-*-**-*-*-*-*-*-**-*-*-*-*-*-*
The veins on Steve's neck and forehead stuck out like ropes, his face was deep red as he screamed at the woman with the microphone in her hand. "GET OUT, GET OUT" he screamed over and over again. But the reporter had prepared her questions and wasn't going to leave until she'd asked every last one of them. Even as Steve continued to shout over her, desperately straining to lift his head from the pillow, the questions kept coming. In Steve's head they all merged together; "Lieutenant Sloan did you…………voodoo murderer…….when was the…..how did this happen………carnage committed in those……..family of Genie Anderson…….have the LAPD………why is there no…… Lieutenant Sloan, Lieutenant Sloan, Lieutenant Sloan, ……………Steve, Steve, Steve"
The voice now belonged to Jesse. He burst into the room, Steve was still screaming as the reporter and cameraman leant tightly over the bed. "What the hell!" Jesse yelled. Grabbing the woman squarely by the shoulders he pulled her backwards away from the bed then pushed her towards the door. She stumbled and fell against the doorframe but Jesse took no notice. His hand flew up across the camera lens that caught for the last time the look of absolute terror and despair on Steve's face.
Amanda stopped the video. She and Jesse sat together in the doctor's lounge watching the tape the hospital security guards had confiscated. Cheryl and Chief Masters had already viewed it and were holding the reporter for questioning. Mark leant silently with his back against the door, staring at the hopeless image of his son on the screen.
"Thank you Jesse" he said.
Jesse shrugged, and Amanda gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. "Good job he didn't record what I said next, wasn't exactly Disney if you know what I mean."
"Do you want me to rewind it" Amanda asked, but Mark shook his head.
"I just wanted to see it for myself while Steve's still out for the count."
"It took a lot to sedate him the state he was in" Jesse observed.
"I just wish I could have calmed him down when you came and got me"
"It's not your fault Mark" Amanda told him "What that woman did was criminal, evil, harassing somebody in Steve's condition like that. It's no wonder he needed meds to pacify him."
Mark nodded "she probably would have won an award for that interview if we hadn't confiscated the tape, vermin" he spat.
"Want me to go and check on Steve?" Jesse asked.
"No it's OK" Mark replied, waving for Jesse to sit back down. "I'll go and check on him." He paused and looked back at the screen again. Steve's blue eyes were wide with fear as he pleaded with the cameraman to be left alone. "There's something I need to tell son."
*-*-*-*-*-*-**-*-*-*-*-*-**-*-*-*-*-*-*
Mark sat with Steve as he began to regain lucidity. He'd been placed on a heart monitor and given an oxygen mask due to the panic attack and subsequent medication he'd received. Though Mark knew he couldn't feel it he stroked the back of Steve's hand gently as he spoke. After a few false starts Steve's eyes began to flutter open though he seemed unable to focus.
"Steve can you hear me?" Mark asked softly. "I want you to relax and breathe deeply OK son?"
Steve attempted to speak but his words were slurred and hampered by the mask.
"It's OK, don't try and talk just yet." Mark was worried what conclusions Steve might jump to, finding himself on the monitor and wearing the mask. He began the speech he knew he'd repeat many times until his son had fully regained consciousness.
"Steve, you had a panic attack." He spoke slowly and punctuated each word clearly. "We gave you a sedative to help you relax. The mask is just to help you until you're fully awake. We're monitoring you're heart to make sure you don't have another episode OK?" He paused as Steve's eyes fluttered closed for a few minutes then opened again. "You're going to feel tired and groggy for a while. Just you rest OK; I'm going to sit right here with you until the sedative wears off. When you are awake again we'll take the mask and the monitor away and you'll be able to talk properly."
Steve attempted to speak again and Mark pulled the mask from his face to try and make things easier. "I'm sorry son, I can't understand what you're saying. Just rest now and we'll talk later." Steve released a pleading grunt and focused his eyes as best he could on Marks. "It's OK" Mark reassured him, stroking his hair back from his face. Though still wavering in and out of sleep Steve made a determined effort to stay focussed in his father's line of sight.
Mark couldn't be sure whether Steve was lucid enough to know what he was doing or not. He may have just been like any other drowsy patient waking from a sedative. But Mark had made a momentous decision on seeing his son's terrified face frozen on that TV screen. If Steve was questioning him, then he knew his answer. He looked at his son's face and saw again the anguish he'd seen before, this time transmitted through his expressive blue eyes.
"This isn't the Guillain-Barré Steve" Mark began "this is just a sedative." Even though he seemed to understand, Steve's eyes still pleaded with his father. Mark swallowed hard as he leant towards his son, their faces almost touching. "I love you Steve" he whispered. "You are my only son and there is nothing in the world I wouldn't do for you." He desperately hoped that those words would be enough but the look of suspicion lingered on Steve's face. Mark knew he only had the inner strength to make this promise once. Never again would he be able to admit it, maybe not even to himself. He leant forward and kissed Steve's forehead, staying there for a long while. Pulling back he clenched his jaw and looked Steve straight in the eye. A single tear rolled down each cheek as he slowly nodded his head and whispered to his son "the answer is yes."
*-*-*-*-*-*-**-*-*-*-*-*-**-*-*-*-*-*-*