Chapter 2:
Luckily for me, Hawkeye drove more smoothly back to the camp. If he hadn't, I would have surely thrown up again. Then again, maybe I wouldn't. I still hadn't found my voice or my sight, and I began to wonder if they would ever work again.
Hawkeye kept holding my hand the whole way through, a way of telling me that he was still there. I hated feeling so weak, so helpless, but there was nothing I could do about it. Throughout the journey, Hawkeye kept talking to me.
"You're going to be fine," he told me over and over again. Thing was, each time he said it, he sounded less and less convincing. I was scared, how I wanted to tell my best friend how scared I was. I tried, like I had done when I wanted to move. My breathing sped up again, and the wheezing began again.
Hawkeye stopped the jeep. "Beej?" He rubbed the side of my arm, as he couldn't reach my back from the way I was laying down, but it had the same effect. I wanted to cry, to run, anything to make it all go away.
Hawkeye felt my forehead and gasped. "You're on fire!" He took my hand again and started the jeep. "Only five minutes. Hold on, BJ. Just hold on."
"It's okay, BJ. We're back home again. You're gonna be fine." Hawkeye stopped the jeep and I heard footsteps, followed by Colonel Potter's voice. "You're going to be fine, son," he told me. I was being moved, taken somewhere. I could hear voices belonging to Colonel Potter and Hawkeye.
"IV, check. How'd he get all the cuts and bruises?"
"He stepped out of the jeep when it was still going," Hawkeye informed him.
Potter gasped slightly. "That's a new one," he said calmly.
"You only see stunts like that when you've got a fever of."
"103, 104 degrees," a female voice filled in.
"Woah," I heard Radar mutter.
"Pierce, I want you in my office in ten minutes, and I want to know everything that happened. That's an order." Said Colonel Potter smartly.
Blind sleep, that was what I was getting. Tossing and turning beneath my covers, asleep but not gaining any energy from it. I was too hot for that, too hot and too sick.
Hawkeye wasn't back from Colonel Potter's office. How long had he been there? How long had I been back in the camp? I didn't know where anything was. I was on the verge of going crazy!
I shuddered as I suddenly felt some hands holding me down firmly. Let me go, said the voices inside my head.
"BJ, it's me! It's Hawkeye!"
Let me go, Hawkeye. I'm hot, I need to move.
Something cool was placed on my forehead. The bliss! I stopped thrashing about, and breathed a sigh of relief.
"Pierce? What's Hunnicutt doing in bed?" Frank. Why did they make him a doctor?
"His cot's being painted so we moved him in here for the time being," Hawkeye's voice dripped with sarcasm.
"Oh," Frank sounded dumbfounded. "Couldn't he have the one in the Supply Tent?"
Hawkeye had to take a breath before continuing. "Actually, Frank, BJ is ill. Got fever. That's when you've got an elevated temperature. He's been sick. I guess you know what that is."
"All right, Pierce, no need to dumb it all down for me!"
"That's a matter of opinion."
Frank must have had suicidal tendencies when he started to say his next sentence. "It's our proud boys who need the bed-space, you know. The ones who go out into the war and get wounded, not the ones who are unlucky enough to get a virus from somewhere."
I heard Hawkeye mutter some curse words before the chair scraped back. It sounded like I struggle somewhere. It was so frustrating not being able to see anything. Colonel Potter's voice rang out. "Pierce! Burns!"
What was going on? I threw the towel off of my head and tried to sit up. Hawkeye must have seen or heard, because he came back over again. "It's okay," he muttered. "I'm here."
"Colonel, do something!" Burns whined.
Hawkeye read the frustration on my face. "Guess you wanna know what just happened?" I nodded my head.
"Colonel!" Burns whinged louder.
"Pipe down, Burns. Hawkeye, stay here, and Burns, you get to my office."
Wordlessly, Frank left. Hawkeye began. "You might have heard the snide remarks from Ferret Face back there. If you didn't, I'm not going to repeat them to you. So, I got up off my chair and started chasing Frank around the ward. I got him, and would have strangled him if Sherm hadn't have come in."
I smiled. I could just imagine it. Too bad I couldn't see it. Hold up. Something felt different. What was different?
"BJ, you opened your eyes!" Hawkeye said, with hope in his voice.
I did? So why couldn't I see anything? I shook my head in disbelief. Hawkeye put his hand on my shoulder. "You'll get better." He remoistened the towel and put it back on my head.
They must have thought I was asleep. I probably was, but the thing about not having sight is that you might not know when you're asleep or not, added to delirium too. I could hear Hawkeye and Colonel Potter talking in hushed whispers.
"No change?" Asked the Colonel.
"Nothing," said Hawkeye with regret. "He threw up in his sleep, didn't even know it. His temp is still over 103, and he hasn't regained either his sight or the ability to talk. I just don't know what to do."
"Radar's trying to find out what happened to the man you said had the same disease, and he'll see if he's on the same horse."
"It's driving me crazy, and it's not doing a lot for BJ's sanity either. He can't talk, can't see anything. If his temperature doesn't go down soon."
"You can't think like that, Hawkeye. You just have to make sure you're there for whatever he needs, okay? I wish Father Mulcahy were here with a prayer, but he's in Seoul for a few days."
Hawkeye didn't say anything. I guess his face said it all. Colonel Potter continued. "Hey, you've been in worse spots, and you've come out smiling."
"There's no worse spot than having your best friend's life on the line."
That's all I needed to hear. My life hanging in balance, and there wasn't anything that could be done about it. Terrific. What's a guy to do when you hear that?
Three days later, Hawkeye came and sat beside me after a long day of surgery. "How are you?"
I'd adapted to some sort of sign language during the last four days. I put my hand to my forehead, saying I felt hot. Hawkeye reacted with the wet towel for me.
Hawkeye and Colonel Potter had had more conversations over the past few days about my health, when they thought I was asleep. Although my temperature had gone down a degree, nothing else was happening. I hadn't eaten or drunk anything in three days, and according to Hawkeye I was wasting away. The only thing I had done was to throw up. Several times, I had gone in and out of spells of numbness and wheezy breathing. Thinking back through the days was hell. There were no images, just what I'd heard. It was driving me crazy! Oh great, one of those wheezing fits was on its way. I'd gotten myself so agitated.
As my breathing sped up, I heard Hawkeye's chair scrape back. He took my hand. "It's okay, Beej. I'm here, okay? Take deep breaths and you'll be fine."
Normally, it worked, but this time something was different. I was beyond hearing things, well, I heard them but nothing registered. I was getting so short of breath. Everything faded out, and all awareness left me. I passed out.
Luckily for me, Hawkeye drove more smoothly back to the camp. If he hadn't, I would have surely thrown up again. Then again, maybe I wouldn't. I still hadn't found my voice or my sight, and I began to wonder if they would ever work again.
Hawkeye kept holding my hand the whole way through, a way of telling me that he was still there. I hated feeling so weak, so helpless, but there was nothing I could do about it. Throughout the journey, Hawkeye kept talking to me.
"You're going to be fine," he told me over and over again. Thing was, each time he said it, he sounded less and less convincing. I was scared, how I wanted to tell my best friend how scared I was. I tried, like I had done when I wanted to move. My breathing sped up again, and the wheezing began again.
Hawkeye stopped the jeep. "Beej?" He rubbed the side of my arm, as he couldn't reach my back from the way I was laying down, but it had the same effect. I wanted to cry, to run, anything to make it all go away.
Hawkeye felt my forehead and gasped. "You're on fire!" He took my hand again and started the jeep. "Only five minutes. Hold on, BJ. Just hold on."
"It's okay, BJ. We're back home again. You're gonna be fine." Hawkeye stopped the jeep and I heard footsteps, followed by Colonel Potter's voice. "You're going to be fine, son," he told me. I was being moved, taken somewhere. I could hear voices belonging to Colonel Potter and Hawkeye.
"IV, check. How'd he get all the cuts and bruises?"
"He stepped out of the jeep when it was still going," Hawkeye informed him.
Potter gasped slightly. "That's a new one," he said calmly.
"You only see stunts like that when you've got a fever of."
"103, 104 degrees," a female voice filled in.
"Woah," I heard Radar mutter.
"Pierce, I want you in my office in ten minutes, and I want to know everything that happened. That's an order." Said Colonel Potter smartly.
Blind sleep, that was what I was getting. Tossing and turning beneath my covers, asleep but not gaining any energy from it. I was too hot for that, too hot and too sick.
Hawkeye wasn't back from Colonel Potter's office. How long had he been there? How long had I been back in the camp? I didn't know where anything was. I was on the verge of going crazy!
I shuddered as I suddenly felt some hands holding me down firmly. Let me go, said the voices inside my head.
"BJ, it's me! It's Hawkeye!"
Let me go, Hawkeye. I'm hot, I need to move.
Something cool was placed on my forehead. The bliss! I stopped thrashing about, and breathed a sigh of relief.
"Pierce? What's Hunnicutt doing in bed?" Frank. Why did they make him a doctor?
"His cot's being painted so we moved him in here for the time being," Hawkeye's voice dripped with sarcasm.
"Oh," Frank sounded dumbfounded. "Couldn't he have the one in the Supply Tent?"
Hawkeye had to take a breath before continuing. "Actually, Frank, BJ is ill. Got fever. That's when you've got an elevated temperature. He's been sick. I guess you know what that is."
"All right, Pierce, no need to dumb it all down for me!"
"That's a matter of opinion."
Frank must have had suicidal tendencies when he started to say his next sentence. "It's our proud boys who need the bed-space, you know. The ones who go out into the war and get wounded, not the ones who are unlucky enough to get a virus from somewhere."
I heard Hawkeye mutter some curse words before the chair scraped back. It sounded like I struggle somewhere. It was so frustrating not being able to see anything. Colonel Potter's voice rang out. "Pierce! Burns!"
What was going on? I threw the towel off of my head and tried to sit up. Hawkeye must have seen or heard, because he came back over again. "It's okay," he muttered. "I'm here."
"Colonel, do something!" Burns whined.
Hawkeye read the frustration on my face. "Guess you wanna know what just happened?" I nodded my head.
"Colonel!" Burns whinged louder.
"Pipe down, Burns. Hawkeye, stay here, and Burns, you get to my office."
Wordlessly, Frank left. Hawkeye began. "You might have heard the snide remarks from Ferret Face back there. If you didn't, I'm not going to repeat them to you. So, I got up off my chair and started chasing Frank around the ward. I got him, and would have strangled him if Sherm hadn't have come in."
I smiled. I could just imagine it. Too bad I couldn't see it. Hold up. Something felt different. What was different?
"BJ, you opened your eyes!" Hawkeye said, with hope in his voice.
I did? So why couldn't I see anything? I shook my head in disbelief. Hawkeye put his hand on my shoulder. "You'll get better." He remoistened the towel and put it back on my head.
They must have thought I was asleep. I probably was, but the thing about not having sight is that you might not know when you're asleep or not, added to delirium too. I could hear Hawkeye and Colonel Potter talking in hushed whispers.
"No change?" Asked the Colonel.
"Nothing," said Hawkeye with regret. "He threw up in his sleep, didn't even know it. His temp is still over 103, and he hasn't regained either his sight or the ability to talk. I just don't know what to do."
"Radar's trying to find out what happened to the man you said had the same disease, and he'll see if he's on the same horse."
"It's driving me crazy, and it's not doing a lot for BJ's sanity either. He can't talk, can't see anything. If his temperature doesn't go down soon."
"You can't think like that, Hawkeye. You just have to make sure you're there for whatever he needs, okay? I wish Father Mulcahy were here with a prayer, but he's in Seoul for a few days."
Hawkeye didn't say anything. I guess his face said it all. Colonel Potter continued. "Hey, you've been in worse spots, and you've come out smiling."
"There's no worse spot than having your best friend's life on the line."
That's all I needed to hear. My life hanging in balance, and there wasn't anything that could be done about it. Terrific. What's a guy to do when you hear that?
Three days later, Hawkeye came and sat beside me after a long day of surgery. "How are you?"
I'd adapted to some sort of sign language during the last four days. I put my hand to my forehead, saying I felt hot. Hawkeye reacted with the wet towel for me.
Hawkeye and Colonel Potter had had more conversations over the past few days about my health, when they thought I was asleep. Although my temperature had gone down a degree, nothing else was happening. I hadn't eaten or drunk anything in three days, and according to Hawkeye I was wasting away. The only thing I had done was to throw up. Several times, I had gone in and out of spells of numbness and wheezy breathing. Thinking back through the days was hell. There were no images, just what I'd heard. It was driving me crazy! Oh great, one of those wheezing fits was on its way. I'd gotten myself so agitated.
As my breathing sped up, I heard Hawkeye's chair scrape back. He took my hand. "It's okay, Beej. I'm here, okay? Take deep breaths and you'll be fine."
Normally, it worked, but this time something was different. I was beyond hearing things, well, I heard them but nothing registered. I was getting so short of breath. Everything faded out, and all awareness left me. I passed out.