Chapter 7
"Saints and Angels"
*************
"Don't be afraid, child. I bring you good tidings of great joy." The bum grinned toothlessly, his rotten breath enough to make anyone gag. His hair was greasy and unkempt, sprouting from underneath his ratty old snowcap like a wild bush. The dirt caked on his fingernails was probably the same dirt that was there months ago.
Abby shrunk away, bumping into the sink as he reached out his filthy hand and touched her shoulder. "Hey! Get your hands off me," she ordered in an unsteady voice.
"The Lord knows your suffering," the man said, apparently unaware of the distress he was causing. "He will send angels to watch over thee."
Shrugging the hand from her shoulder, Abby pushed past the man and hurried out of the bathroom as he began reciting Psalm 23. Weaver was standing in the hallway. "Abby? What's wrong?" she asked, noticing how pale and rushed the nurse seemed.
"There's a... a bum in there," Abby motioned towards the ladies' room, barely looking back or slowing down. "Someone should get him out."
Her pulse was still racing furiously when Randi handed her a chart and said, "Abdominal pain in curtain five." Abby grabbed the clipboard and headed in that direction before Randi, or anyone else, could ask if she was all right.
*************
Abdominal pain in curtain five turned out to be a small boy with large brown eyes and dark red hair that bounced around his head in tight little corkscrew curls. It was the first child Abby had seen in days and it filled her with relief. She managed a smile, forcing away any remaining jittery feelings. "Hi," she greeted him.
The boy stared at her apprehensively. "Hi. Are you a doctor?"
"No, I'm a nurse. My name's Abby."
"I'm Jacob." He looked her over for a minute then added, "But you can call me Jake."
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Jake." Abby reached out to shake his hand, issuing a smile from the boy. He had deep dimples in both cheeks. "What seems to be the problem?"
"I've got a fever and it hurts when I do this." Jake poked a stubby finger in his side and winced sharply.
Abby stifled a laugh. "Can I give you a tip, Jake?"
He nodded.
"Don't do that."
The boy's ears turned pink and he nodded again.
"Mind if I take a look?" Abby pointed to his shirt. With no hesitation, he lifted it up and watched as she gently inspected the area. "Is your mom or dad around?" she questioned, wondering why the boy was by himself.
"Nope," Jake shook his head. "They're dead."
The abruptness of the statement startled Abby, but she didn't let it show. Jake continued as if it was nothing out of the ordinary.
"I live with my sister. Her name's Tricia. She's a lot older than me," he explained. "She was supposed to go on a date tonight, so she's mad she had to bring me here. She left to get some coffee and get me out of her hair."
Abby's expression was sympathetic as she listened to the story. His sister sounded... lovely. Abby switched the subject while she examined the boy. "How old are you?"
"Ten. It was my birthday last week," Jake answered proudly. "Wanna see what I got?"
"Sure." Abby held up a thermometer. "Just let me take your temperature first, okay?"
The boy agreed, fidgeting impatiently as he waited for the thermometer to beep. When Abby removed it from his ear, he leaned forward and pulled a red Spider-man lunchbox from behind the pillow he had been resting on. Abby hadn't even noticed it back there.
"My sister thinks it's dumb that I carry this everywhere. I don't let her touch it," he explained, resting the box in his lap and carefully undoing the latch. "I don't see what's so dumb about it. It's my important stuff. She carries a purse around with the stuff she thinks is important in it."
Nice observation, Abby thought. She waited with a smile as he rummaged around the box which was full of typical boy "stuff."
"This is full of my stone collection," Jake said, removing the thermos with a grunt and placing it on the hospital bed. "But that's not my present." He placed a bag of marbles beside the thermos. "Those're my marbles. And here's my army guys."
There was quite a pile building up on the bed by the time Jake came to his birthday gift. Abby's eyes widened when he pulled out a large Swiss Army knife.
"Here it is." He was beaming as he displayed it for her. "It belonged to my grandpa and he gave it to my dad. He said he'd give it to me someday, but he died 'fore he could. My sister didn't think I was old enough to have it yet, but she didn't have money to buy me something so she just gave me this. She said she'll take it away if I cut anything up with it. Wanna see the blade?? It's really sharp."
"Umm, that's ok," Abby held out her hand to stop him as he pried at the niche that opened the blade. "You better keep it closed. Knives are kind of a no-no in this ER."
"Oh ok." Jake shrugged and tucked the knife back into his lunchbox. "Hey, wanna see a picture of my parents?"
Abby nodded. The little boy had become a much needed distraction. "You bet." She leaned closer, studying the wrinkled photograph Jake was holding.
"That's my dad, that's my mom, that's Tricia, and that's me," he said, pointing to each person. "I think I was six in this."
"And now you're all grown up," Abby commented with a smile, tousling the boy's hair. She couldn't help it, he was just too cute.
"Yeah, but Tricia doesn't think so. She keeps telling me to grow up faster." Jake placed the picture in his box and filled it up with the rest of his treasures. He closed it and looked up at Abby. "Do you have any kids?"
A flicker of sadness passed over Abby's features. She scribbled something on his chart and shook her head, "No, no kids."
"Oh, you should have some. I bet you'd be a good mom." Jake flashed a charming, almost hopeful smile. Abby worried when he suddenly became gravely serious and said, "I've got a question."
Not long ago she had taken care of Douglas Leeman, the frightened little boy whose mother died unexpectedly, shattering his world. Abby's heart still ached when she remembered the way he begged to stay with her and cried her name as a social worker carried him out of the ER. She couldn't go through that again right now.
"What's that?" she asked, cautiously.
"What happened to you?" He pointed to her face. "Did you get into fight?"
Caught off guard, Abby fumbled for an answer. His wasn't the only curious gaze she had received from patients today, but he was the first to be brave enough to make an inquiry. "S-something like that," she replied vaguely.
"I don't like whoever hit you," Jake said bluntly. "You're not supposed to hit girls. It's really bad."
This boy was going to turn out just fine. Abby patted his leg affectionately. "We need more men like you, Jake."
*************
A couple of hours and several tests later, Abby's suspicions about Jake's illness were confirmed. She requested being the one to tell the boy while Dr. Carter broke the news to Tricia, who had periodically wondered off since arriving in the ER and was now flirting with Yosh in Chairs. Abby had barely left Jake's side the whole time; talking with him and holding his hand when Carter had drawn blood.
"Well, buddy, I've got some bad news," she began, resting against the edge of Jake's bed.
For the first time Jake's brown eyes were truly fearful. "Am I gonna die?"
Abby shook her head firmly, "No. Definitely not. It's not even something you need to worry about. You're just going to have to stay in the hospital for awhile longer."
"Why?"
"You have appendicitis. Do you know what that is?"
Jake started to shake his head yes, but then changed it to no.
"Well, everybody's got something inside them called an appendix. It's this little pouch by your intestines, sorta looks like a worm. It doesn't really do anything, but sometimes when it gets sick like yours is, it has to be removed so it won't make you sicker."
"Gross. You're gonna take my guts out?" Jake was looking at his stomach. He finally smiled. "That's cool."
Abby laughed. "You might not think so when you have to stay in bed for a few days," she teased. "And Dr. Carter's scheduled you for surgery right away, so they're going to be moving you into a different part of the hospital."
"Are you coming with me?"
Here we go. Abby answered reluctantly, "I can't, Jake. I don't work in that part of the hospital, and I have some other patients here in the ER who need me to look after them."
"Oh." Jake's cheerful face fell. "But I don't want a different nurse, Abby. I like you. Can't I just stay here?" He began to tear up and reached for her hand.
"You're not allowed to, sweetie. I'm sorry." Abby struggled to keep her own emotions in check. "But I'll come visit you when you get out of surgery. How's that?"
Jake thought it over, obviously not satisfied but apparently willing to take what he could get. "Yeah, okay," he agreed, wiping away a fat tear that had escaped onto his freckled cheek. "But you have to do me a favor."
"What?"
"Keep my lunchbox for me?" He pleaded with his eyes, like a pitiful puppy dog. "I don't want Tricia to take care of it, she might lose it on purpose. You can keep it for me and give it back to me later, can't you? Please?"
Only someone without a heart could have refused. "I will," she assured him.
"Promise you'll keep it with you."
"I promise." She traced an X over her heart with her finger, "Cross my heart."
Jake handed over the old, banged up box that contained his most prized possessions. It was heavier than Abby expected, probably due to the thermos of rocks, and she held the handle with both hands. Their privacy ended when Jake's sister and Carter stepped in and prepared to wheel Jake to the OR. Stepping out of the way, Abby gave Jake an encouraging smile.
"Bye, Abby. Remember, you promised." Jake waved as the bed was rolled away. He was still waving when the elevator door closed.
Abby stood there for a minute, the boy's lunchbox resting against her knees.
"Abby, got an OD coming in."
With a weary sigh, she hurried towards the trauma room where Susan Lewis beckoned.
*************
"Nice shiner."
Abby hooked the IV bag in place and glanced at the young girl who was stirring for the first time since having a gastric lavage to rid her system of the drugs from an attempted overdose. They had almost lost her. She couldn't be more than fifteen.
"Who'd you have to piss off to get that?"
Ignoring the question, Abby fixed the oxygen tubes the girl had just pulled out of her nose. "You have to leave those in."
"Screw you."
"You're not my type."
The girl glared at Abby with disgust. "Could I possibly get a nurse who isn't a bitch?"
Ah, the joy of nasty patients. Abby missed Jake already. "Sorry, no. We all had to take a special course. Bitch 101. Perhaps you've attended?"
"Tell your boyfriend he needs to hit you a little harder next time. Maybe that'll teach you to shut your mouth," the girl spat.
It was tempting to continue exchanging insults with the impossible teenager, but Abby held her tongue and checked the monitors. "Mind telling me why you tried to kill yourself, Angel?"
"How the hell do you know my name?" Angel demanded.
"Your mother gave it to us."
"My mom's here?"
Abby noticed the girl sounded surprised. "She's the one who brought you in. She's very worried about you..."
"Yeah right," Angel scoffed. She scratched at the IV in her arm and drifted into a pensive silence.
"You're father's here, too. He-"
"He is *not* my father!" Angel was furious again, sitting up in bed. "And I don't want him here! Keep that asshole away from me!"
Abby put her hand on the girl's shoulder to urge her back against the pillow. Angel flung it aside. "Just get out! I don't want you touching me. I'm sick of people touching me!"
The problem was gradually becoming clear to Abby. "Look, you can keep treating me like crap if you want... OR you could tell me what's really bothering you." She looked imploringly at the blond haired girl. "Maybe I can help you?"
"You really wanna help me?"
"Yes," Abby replied earnestly.
A wry smile formed on the girl's pallid lips. "Pull the plug."
"Saints and Angels"
*************
"Don't be afraid, child. I bring you good tidings of great joy." The bum grinned toothlessly, his rotten breath enough to make anyone gag. His hair was greasy and unkempt, sprouting from underneath his ratty old snowcap like a wild bush. The dirt caked on his fingernails was probably the same dirt that was there months ago.
Abby shrunk away, bumping into the sink as he reached out his filthy hand and touched her shoulder. "Hey! Get your hands off me," she ordered in an unsteady voice.
"The Lord knows your suffering," the man said, apparently unaware of the distress he was causing. "He will send angels to watch over thee."
Shrugging the hand from her shoulder, Abby pushed past the man and hurried out of the bathroom as he began reciting Psalm 23. Weaver was standing in the hallway. "Abby? What's wrong?" she asked, noticing how pale and rushed the nurse seemed.
"There's a... a bum in there," Abby motioned towards the ladies' room, barely looking back or slowing down. "Someone should get him out."
Her pulse was still racing furiously when Randi handed her a chart and said, "Abdominal pain in curtain five." Abby grabbed the clipboard and headed in that direction before Randi, or anyone else, could ask if she was all right.
*************
Abdominal pain in curtain five turned out to be a small boy with large brown eyes and dark red hair that bounced around his head in tight little corkscrew curls. It was the first child Abby had seen in days and it filled her with relief. She managed a smile, forcing away any remaining jittery feelings. "Hi," she greeted him.
The boy stared at her apprehensively. "Hi. Are you a doctor?"
"No, I'm a nurse. My name's Abby."
"I'm Jacob." He looked her over for a minute then added, "But you can call me Jake."
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Jake." Abby reached out to shake his hand, issuing a smile from the boy. He had deep dimples in both cheeks. "What seems to be the problem?"
"I've got a fever and it hurts when I do this." Jake poked a stubby finger in his side and winced sharply.
Abby stifled a laugh. "Can I give you a tip, Jake?"
He nodded.
"Don't do that."
The boy's ears turned pink and he nodded again.
"Mind if I take a look?" Abby pointed to his shirt. With no hesitation, he lifted it up and watched as she gently inspected the area. "Is your mom or dad around?" she questioned, wondering why the boy was by himself.
"Nope," Jake shook his head. "They're dead."
The abruptness of the statement startled Abby, but she didn't let it show. Jake continued as if it was nothing out of the ordinary.
"I live with my sister. Her name's Tricia. She's a lot older than me," he explained. "She was supposed to go on a date tonight, so she's mad she had to bring me here. She left to get some coffee and get me out of her hair."
Abby's expression was sympathetic as she listened to the story. His sister sounded... lovely. Abby switched the subject while she examined the boy. "How old are you?"
"Ten. It was my birthday last week," Jake answered proudly. "Wanna see what I got?"
"Sure." Abby held up a thermometer. "Just let me take your temperature first, okay?"
The boy agreed, fidgeting impatiently as he waited for the thermometer to beep. When Abby removed it from his ear, he leaned forward and pulled a red Spider-man lunchbox from behind the pillow he had been resting on. Abby hadn't even noticed it back there.
"My sister thinks it's dumb that I carry this everywhere. I don't let her touch it," he explained, resting the box in his lap and carefully undoing the latch. "I don't see what's so dumb about it. It's my important stuff. She carries a purse around with the stuff she thinks is important in it."
Nice observation, Abby thought. She waited with a smile as he rummaged around the box which was full of typical boy "stuff."
"This is full of my stone collection," Jake said, removing the thermos with a grunt and placing it on the hospital bed. "But that's not my present." He placed a bag of marbles beside the thermos. "Those're my marbles. And here's my army guys."
There was quite a pile building up on the bed by the time Jake came to his birthday gift. Abby's eyes widened when he pulled out a large Swiss Army knife.
"Here it is." He was beaming as he displayed it for her. "It belonged to my grandpa and he gave it to my dad. He said he'd give it to me someday, but he died 'fore he could. My sister didn't think I was old enough to have it yet, but she didn't have money to buy me something so she just gave me this. She said she'll take it away if I cut anything up with it. Wanna see the blade?? It's really sharp."
"Umm, that's ok," Abby held out her hand to stop him as he pried at the niche that opened the blade. "You better keep it closed. Knives are kind of a no-no in this ER."
"Oh ok." Jake shrugged and tucked the knife back into his lunchbox. "Hey, wanna see a picture of my parents?"
Abby nodded. The little boy had become a much needed distraction. "You bet." She leaned closer, studying the wrinkled photograph Jake was holding.
"That's my dad, that's my mom, that's Tricia, and that's me," he said, pointing to each person. "I think I was six in this."
"And now you're all grown up," Abby commented with a smile, tousling the boy's hair. She couldn't help it, he was just too cute.
"Yeah, but Tricia doesn't think so. She keeps telling me to grow up faster." Jake placed the picture in his box and filled it up with the rest of his treasures. He closed it and looked up at Abby. "Do you have any kids?"
A flicker of sadness passed over Abby's features. She scribbled something on his chart and shook her head, "No, no kids."
"Oh, you should have some. I bet you'd be a good mom." Jake flashed a charming, almost hopeful smile. Abby worried when he suddenly became gravely serious and said, "I've got a question."
Not long ago she had taken care of Douglas Leeman, the frightened little boy whose mother died unexpectedly, shattering his world. Abby's heart still ached when she remembered the way he begged to stay with her and cried her name as a social worker carried him out of the ER. She couldn't go through that again right now.
"What's that?" she asked, cautiously.
"What happened to you?" He pointed to her face. "Did you get into fight?"
Caught off guard, Abby fumbled for an answer. His wasn't the only curious gaze she had received from patients today, but he was the first to be brave enough to make an inquiry. "S-something like that," she replied vaguely.
"I don't like whoever hit you," Jake said bluntly. "You're not supposed to hit girls. It's really bad."
This boy was going to turn out just fine. Abby patted his leg affectionately. "We need more men like you, Jake."
*************
A couple of hours and several tests later, Abby's suspicions about Jake's illness were confirmed. She requested being the one to tell the boy while Dr. Carter broke the news to Tricia, who had periodically wondered off since arriving in the ER and was now flirting with Yosh in Chairs. Abby had barely left Jake's side the whole time; talking with him and holding his hand when Carter had drawn blood.
"Well, buddy, I've got some bad news," she began, resting against the edge of Jake's bed.
For the first time Jake's brown eyes were truly fearful. "Am I gonna die?"
Abby shook her head firmly, "No. Definitely not. It's not even something you need to worry about. You're just going to have to stay in the hospital for awhile longer."
"Why?"
"You have appendicitis. Do you know what that is?"
Jake started to shake his head yes, but then changed it to no.
"Well, everybody's got something inside them called an appendix. It's this little pouch by your intestines, sorta looks like a worm. It doesn't really do anything, but sometimes when it gets sick like yours is, it has to be removed so it won't make you sicker."
"Gross. You're gonna take my guts out?" Jake was looking at his stomach. He finally smiled. "That's cool."
Abby laughed. "You might not think so when you have to stay in bed for a few days," she teased. "And Dr. Carter's scheduled you for surgery right away, so they're going to be moving you into a different part of the hospital."
"Are you coming with me?"
Here we go. Abby answered reluctantly, "I can't, Jake. I don't work in that part of the hospital, and I have some other patients here in the ER who need me to look after them."
"Oh." Jake's cheerful face fell. "But I don't want a different nurse, Abby. I like you. Can't I just stay here?" He began to tear up and reached for her hand.
"You're not allowed to, sweetie. I'm sorry." Abby struggled to keep her own emotions in check. "But I'll come visit you when you get out of surgery. How's that?"
Jake thought it over, obviously not satisfied but apparently willing to take what he could get. "Yeah, okay," he agreed, wiping away a fat tear that had escaped onto his freckled cheek. "But you have to do me a favor."
"What?"
"Keep my lunchbox for me?" He pleaded with his eyes, like a pitiful puppy dog. "I don't want Tricia to take care of it, she might lose it on purpose. You can keep it for me and give it back to me later, can't you? Please?"
Only someone without a heart could have refused. "I will," she assured him.
"Promise you'll keep it with you."
"I promise." She traced an X over her heart with her finger, "Cross my heart."
Jake handed over the old, banged up box that contained his most prized possessions. It was heavier than Abby expected, probably due to the thermos of rocks, and she held the handle with both hands. Their privacy ended when Jake's sister and Carter stepped in and prepared to wheel Jake to the OR. Stepping out of the way, Abby gave Jake an encouraging smile.
"Bye, Abby. Remember, you promised." Jake waved as the bed was rolled away. He was still waving when the elevator door closed.
Abby stood there for a minute, the boy's lunchbox resting against her knees.
"Abby, got an OD coming in."
With a weary sigh, she hurried towards the trauma room where Susan Lewis beckoned.
*************
"Nice shiner."
Abby hooked the IV bag in place and glanced at the young girl who was stirring for the first time since having a gastric lavage to rid her system of the drugs from an attempted overdose. They had almost lost her. She couldn't be more than fifteen.
"Who'd you have to piss off to get that?"
Ignoring the question, Abby fixed the oxygen tubes the girl had just pulled out of her nose. "You have to leave those in."
"Screw you."
"You're not my type."
The girl glared at Abby with disgust. "Could I possibly get a nurse who isn't a bitch?"
Ah, the joy of nasty patients. Abby missed Jake already. "Sorry, no. We all had to take a special course. Bitch 101. Perhaps you've attended?"
"Tell your boyfriend he needs to hit you a little harder next time. Maybe that'll teach you to shut your mouth," the girl spat.
It was tempting to continue exchanging insults with the impossible teenager, but Abby held her tongue and checked the monitors. "Mind telling me why you tried to kill yourself, Angel?"
"How the hell do you know my name?" Angel demanded.
"Your mother gave it to us."
"My mom's here?"
Abby noticed the girl sounded surprised. "She's the one who brought you in. She's very worried about you..."
"Yeah right," Angel scoffed. She scratched at the IV in her arm and drifted into a pensive silence.
"You're father's here, too. He-"
"He is *not* my father!" Angel was furious again, sitting up in bed. "And I don't want him here! Keep that asshole away from me!"
Abby put her hand on the girl's shoulder to urge her back against the pillow. Angel flung it aside. "Just get out! I don't want you touching me. I'm sick of people touching me!"
The problem was gradually becoming clear to Abby. "Look, you can keep treating me like crap if you want... OR you could tell me what's really bothering you." She looked imploringly at the blond haired girl. "Maybe I can help you?"
"You really wanna help me?"
"Yes," Abby replied earnestly.
A wry smile formed on the girl's pallid lips. "Pull the plug."