Anyway - I have been suffering from monstrous writer's block. I know what
I want to write but just have not been able to do it. So Mark alias Milo
helped me out and got me kick started again. This is a joint chapter
written by Mark and I - and a nice long one. You have Mark to thank for
all the medical detail - as he has a tendency to do his back in now and
again.
Chapter 8
As Bilbo closed the door behind the departing Gamgee's, he heard Dr Milo Bramble give a startled cry. Fearing the worst he rushed into the bathroom, almost knocking Dr Bramble over in his haste and himself almost tripping over. Dr Bramble took a step back to regain his balance and steadied Bilbo, then stepped aside so that Bilbo could see what had startled the doctor.
"Sam," exclaimed Bilbo. "What are you doing here? You should be tucked up in bed! Your parents are going to be worried sick when they find you gone! What were you thinking? How did you get in?"
"He was there when I turned round," said Dr Bramble.
Sam looked up at Bilbo and muttered something. Bilbo stepped closer. "Sorry, Sam, I couldn't hear what you said."
Sam gazed up rebelliously and said, a little louder, "Mr Frodo was all alone!"
Bilbo looked at him in disbelief. "Sam, I don't know what you mean - I am here, Dr Bramble is here, your parents and your brothers were just here! Frodo has had someone with him ever since he fell ill! And you really need to get back home."
Sam just clasped Frodo's hand a little tighter. The little boy had been developing a bad case of hero worship that spring for the older boy. Frodo had a gift for story telling, inherited no doubt from Bilbo, which would always grant him a place of honour. Hobbits did love a good story - whether the gossip of some half imagined Tookish indiscretion whispered over a beer or four at the Green dragon or a fire side tale, also much embellished of adventures they fervently thank their lucky stars they would never go on. Frodo could spin a tale of elves that would keep Sam enthralled through even meal times.
"Mr Baggins," the doctor murmured, stepping closer to Bilbo. "Why don't we let him bide a while - I don't know whether it is the effect of the bath, or whether it's Sam's presence, but Master Frodo does seem to have calmed down somewhat. It couldn't hurt if Sam stays for a few minutes, but we'll have to notify Bell and Hamfast. Besides, once Frodo has cooled down I want to do another exam, and it might even keep Frodo calm a little longer. We'll see."
The effects of his surprise wore off, "How is Frodo? How is he, Doctor?"
Dr Bramble quickly padded over to Frodo and laid his hand against the lad's forehead, then checked his wrist. "Well, the pulse is still a little rapid, but his temperature is coming down nicely. Let's leave him there for few minutes more and then I'll do another exam. Meanwhile, I feel I could well do with a nice cup of tea and I suspect Sam would appreciate one as well. If you would be so kind, then Sam and I will stay here and watch Frodo."
"Very well. Then while you examine my boy I'll hurry round and let Bell know where her own little boy is."
Milo Burrows was of the old school of healing and had inherited a bit of very good advice from his mother: 'Medicines all very well, but there's much as can be cured by a cup of tea'. As they drank the tea they relaxed a little after the panic of getting Frodo into the ice bath and Bilbo started laying out towels on the bathroom floor, making up a pallet on which they could set Frodo. Dr Bramble finished his cup and then he and Bilbo filled bucket after bucket with melting ice so that they could pull Frodo out of the bath onto the pallet, Sam brushing away the remaining ice on Frodo's torso as they went. When they could lift him out, Bilbo gathered the unconscious lad into his arms and dried him off with a warm fluffy towel.
As he held the dear boy Bilbo felt a pang of possessiveness that made him want to crush the small body close to his. "Oh, my dear, dear boy," the old hobbit muttered. "It is not only Sam who is looking forward to you waking and chatting away to us all again." Bilbo had never thought to find himself caring for a child and the sudden depth of his feeling almost startled him. He loved Frodo so very, very much.
They then laid Frodo carefully on his front and as Dr Bramble began his examination, Bilbo hurried down the hill to let Bell know what had happened to Sam. Sam looked on nervously as Bilbo left Bag End, but then hunched down by Frodo to hold his hand again, once more taking up his murmured chant. "Mr Frodo, you're not alone. Sam is here. Mr Frodo, please get better."
Dr Bramble knelt down by the boy's side and carefully checked all over Frodo's back and down his spine, palpating him again and confirming his earlier diagnosis. This time, though, when he got to the inflamed area of Frodo's back, he noticed a dark speck deep in the pale flesh, and as he investigated the speck he noticed a tiny puncture in the skin. He has missed it before, and might well have missed it this time as well if the effects of the freezing bath had not made Frodo's skin almost transparent, the tiny vessels in his skin narrowing and starting to shut down.
Dr Bramble felt as if a dozen candles had been lighted in his mind. "Of course! The lad caught a number of nasty splinters in his fall from the tree. I thought we had found them all, but clearly one went deeper than the rest and has become infected, thus exacerbating all of Frodo's other symptoms. Somehow I need to drain that infection and get that splinter out. Poor Frodo." Dr Bramble glanced at Sam's worried face and stopped talking. #It's a good thing he's unconscious#, he continued in his thoughts. #Lancing that infection is probably going to hurt even more than damaging his back did.# He turned back to Frodo and laid cool cloths on him until Bilbo could return.
A few minutes later the front door opened and an anxious Bell was ushered in by Bilbo. She hurried into the bathroom and instantly spotted Sam, who hunched down even further under her suddenly angry gaze. "Samwise Gamgee! If you know what's good for you, you had best get yourself back into your bed this instant! To be pestering Mr Baggins and the doctor in this way! I've never been so mortified in all my life! How will I be able to hold my head up in public when they find out I have such ill behaved children?"
Dr Bramble decided he had to break in and restore a little order. "Mrs Gamgee, it's not as bad as that. In fact, I think Sam's presence here has somehow been of considerable relief to Master Frodo. I don't know how, but Master Frodo seems to know Sam is here, and is comforted. Nevertheless," he turned to little Sam, who looked up at him with starry eyed gratitude, "young Master Samwise, here, is going to have to leave." Dr Bramble knelt to be on eye level with the little boy and spoke kindly, "Samwise, now that Mr Baggins is back I'm going to have to take care of Master Frodo, and I'm going to have to give him all my attention. I need you to go with your mother, and maybe, you can ask her to let you visit Frodo tomorrow evening once he's had a chance to recover - and he WILL recover, Sam, I promise you that. Mr Bilbo will let your mother know as soon as Frodo is up to it."
Bilbo nodded his head firmly and then held his hand out to Sam, who looked uncertain for a moment, but then stood and padded over to take the hand. Bilbo led him out of the bathroom, Bell following behind. As they left, Frodo moaned quietly, despairingly, but Mrs and Master Gamgee continued on until they had left Bag End and returned to their beds.
As soon as they were gone, Bilbo trotted back to the bathroom. "Doctor, you mentioned some sort of operation?" His heart dropped into his stomach and left him feeling once again deflated and worried.
The doctor looked up and noticed the effect his words had had on the older hobbit. "Now, Mr Baggins, don't take on so. I repeat what I said to Sam. I believe I've discovered the source of Frodo's rising fever, and once that has been removed Frodo will have an excellent chance of recovery. Of course, his legs are a different matter, but if I can get rid of the infection it may even have some effect on them. I will need you to be calm and collected, and to make sure Frodo doesn't move. But first I need a bowl of boiling water, and if you have a bottle of strong spirit then bring that along as well."
Bilbo disappeared for a few minutes and then returned bearing a large bowl of boiling water, a bottle of his strongest spirit and a few towels. Dr Bramble poured a little of the water into smaller bowl and then dropped a long handled knife with an almost impossibly thin blade into the large bowl along with several needles of different sizes. He used a little of the water in the smaller bowl to clean Frodo's lower back and then washed his hands. He retrieved a small vial from his bag and poured a little of the contents onto a gauze pad, which he rubbed over the bulge of the inflammation.
"Doctor, what are you doing?" Bilbo was watching Dr Bramble's actions intently, and very nervously.
"Mr Baggins, there is a splinter, likely from the tree he fell out of, lodged deeply in Frodo's back. I need to get it out, as I'm sure it's what is causing the infection. Once I've drained the infection and removed the splinter Frodo should rapidly recover until he is able to enjoy the world again. The bad news is that it is going to hurt very much. For that reason more than any other I could not let Sam stay any longer. And I will need you to be on hand to hold Frodo down should he start to struggle. I've numbed the skin over the inflammation with a rare oil I managed to purchase in Bree. That should help, but I don't want to take any chances. If you would please take up a position by his arms then I'll begin."
"Shouldn't we move him back to his bed for this? I'm sure the boy would be more comfortable there. Or onto the Kitchen table for height and sturdiness?" Bilbo was surprised that the doctor made no mention of moving Frodo out of the bathroom.
"It's because of the ice and water, Mr Baggins. I want him to be right here should his temperature rise to a critical level and we need to lay him back in the bath, and even if that's not the case we will still need to lay cold cloths sodden with the ice-water over him afterwards until we know his temperature is coming down. Now, if you would take his arms."
So saying, the doctor waited only until Bilbo went to his station then took up the knife from the bowl and cut deeply into Frodo's back. A second passed, then two, then Frodo suddenly woke, tensed and uttered an ear- piercing shriek!
"Bilbo, grab his arms!" Bilbo did so, tears pouring once again down his cheeks as he helped immobilise his agonised cousin. Oh, but the old hobbit felt as though he were torturing the thing he loved most in the world.
Dr Bramble sat on Frodo's thighs, leaned over his back once more and cut again, even more deeply. Frodo screamed a second time, struggling vainly to escape the pain, and then collapsed into merciful unconsciousness. Dr Bramble quickly withdrew his knife and squeezed on the sides of the inflammation. From the wound oozed a sickening mixture of new blood, old blood and greenish yellow pus. "Mr Bilbo! Quickly! More water!"
Bilbo leaped up on shaking legs and grabbed the kettle and another bowl from the kitchen and was back in an instant. Dr Bramble dabbed a pad in the boiling water and then cleaned away the substance seeping from Frodo's back. He squeezed again and reached for another pad as the reeking fluids surged forth once more. Again and again he pressed and cleaned until finally all that issued from Frodo was fresh, clean blood. Very carefully Dr Bramble examined Frodo paying particular attention to the small puncture and the tissues beneath it. All traces of black had now vanished. He sighed in relief. While Frodo's spine was still inflamed, the large bulge had reduced considerably in size. He was sure he had managed to completely drain the infection and the worst was now well and truly over. The splinter, too, was gone, washed out with the detritus from the infection.
Using his smallest needle, Dr Bramble carefully sewed up the incision he had made a few minutes previously and then sat heavily on the floor, feeling surprisingly exhausted after such a short procedure.
"Mr Bilbo, let's get those cool cloths on him again, but that area on his back must stay dry and clean. Let's wait a half hour or so. I'll sit by him to check him every few minutes and if his temperature drops then we can move him back to his bed." Dr Bramble glanced at Bilbo to make sure his advice had been understood and noticed that Bilbo's face had gone white and his hands had started to tremble. "But first let's administer the spirit! I'll need two small glasses." Bilbo wobbled somewhat as he made his way to the kitchen to fetch them, his mind beginning to cloud with the shock of what he'd just seen and done. Frodo's scream was still echoing in his mind.
Upon his return, the doctor splashed some of the spirit into each glass, passed one to Bilbo and kept the other for himself. "Drink that, Mr Baggins. I think you need it more than Frodo does right now! Down the hatch!" He sipped a little from his own glass, feeling the warmth burn it's way down his throat to his stomach and kept an eye on Bilbo until he saw Bilbo tip the glass up and swallow the contents. A moment later some colour returned to his face as he gasped and, satisfied that Bilbo would soon be all right, Milo returned his attention to the young hobbit in his charge. "Now, Master Frodo, let's see how you do and whether we can get you back into your nice, comfortable bed."
Trying to think of what to say, Bilbo found his mind had gone blank. Torn between relief that the operation was over and guilt that he had helped subject his dear, dear cousin to such torture, he found that he could not speak - could not even think. He wandered out of the bathroom, then wondered what he was doing in the hall and wandered back in again. After a few moments he grasped the last thing the doctor had said. "Bed. Yes. Move him back to his bed. I'd better change the bedding or the poor boy will be in such discomfort." Bilbo trotted off toward Frodo's bedroom, trying to regain meaning through routine and eventually regaining sufficient of his senses to complete his task and start to hope, again, that the poor lad, HIS lad was now on the road to recovery.
Chapter 8
As Bilbo closed the door behind the departing Gamgee's, he heard Dr Milo Bramble give a startled cry. Fearing the worst he rushed into the bathroom, almost knocking Dr Bramble over in his haste and himself almost tripping over. Dr Bramble took a step back to regain his balance and steadied Bilbo, then stepped aside so that Bilbo could see what had startled the doctor.
"Sam," exclaimed Bilbo. "What are you doing here? You should be tucked up in bed! Your parents are going to be worried sick when they find you gone! What were you thinking? How did you get in?"
"He was there when I turned round," said Dr Bramble.
Sam looked up at Bilbo and muttered something. Bilbo stepped closer. "Sorry, Sam, I couldn't hear what you said."
Sam gazed up rebelliously and said, a little louder, "Mr Frodo was all alone!"
Bilbo looked at him in disbelief. "Sam, I don't know what you mean - I am here, Dr Bramble is here, your parents and your brothers were just here! Frodo has had someone with him ever since he fell ill! And you really need to get back home."
Sam just clasped Frodo's hand a little tighter. The little boy had been developing a bad case of hero worship that spring for the older boy. Frodo had a gift for story telling, inherited no doubt from Bilbo, which would always grant him a place of honour. Hobbits did love a good story - whether the gossip of some half imagined Tookish indiscretion whispered over a beer or four at the Green dragon or a fire side tale, also much embellished of adventures they fervently thank their lucky stars they would never go on. Frodo could spin a tale of elves that would keep Sam enthralled through even meal times.
"Mr Baggins," the doctor murmured, stepping closer to Bilbo. "Why don't we let him bide a while - I don't know whether it is the effect of the bath, or whether it's Sam's presence, but Master Frodo does seem to have calmed down somewhat. It couldn't hurt if Sam stays for a few minutes, but we'll have to notify Bell and Hamfast. Besides, once Frodo has cooled down I want to do another exam, and it might even keep Frodo calm a little longer. We'll see."
The effects of his surprise wore off, "How is Frodo? How is he, Doctor?"
Dr Bramble quickly padded over to Frodo and laid his hand against the lad's forehead, then checked his wrist. "Well, the pulse is still a little rapid, but his temperature is coming down nicely. Let's leave him there for few minutes more and then I'll do another exam. Meanwhile, I feel I could well do with a nice cup of tea and I suspect Sam would appreciate one as well. If you would be so kind, then Sam and I will stay here and watch Frodo."
"Very well. Then while you examine my boy I'll hurry round and let Bell know where her own little boy is."
Milo Burrows was of the old school of healing and had inherited a bit of very good advice from his mother: 'Medicines all very well, but there's much as can be cured by a cup of tea'. As they drank the tea they relaxed a little after the panic of getting Frodo into the ice bath and Bilbo started laying out towels on the bathroom floor, making up a pallet on which they could set Frodo. Dr Bramble finished his cup and then he and Bilbo filled bucket after bucket with melting ice so that they could pull Frodo out of the bath onto the pallet, Sam brushing away the remaining ice on Frodo's torso as they went. When they could lift him out, Bilbo gathered the unconscious lad into his arms and dried him off with a warm fluffy towel.
As he held the dear boy Bilbo felt a pang of possessiveness that made him want to crush the small body close to his. "Oh, my dear, dear boy," the old hobbit muttered. "It is not only Sam who is looking forward to you waking and chatting away to us all again." Bilbo had never thought to find himself caring for a child and the sudden depth of his feeling almost startled him. He loved Frodo so very, very much.
They then laid Frodo carefully on his front and as Dr Bramble began his examination, Bilbo hurried down the hill to let Bell know what had happened to Sam. Sam looked on nervously as Bilbo left Bag End, but then hunched down by Frodo to hold his hand again, once more taking up his murmured chant. "Mr Frodo, you're not alone. Sam is here. Mr Frodo, please get better."
Dr Bramble knelt down by the boy's side and carefully checked all over Frodo's back and down his spine, palpating him again and confirming his earlier diagnosis. This time, though, when he got to the inflamed area of Frodo's back, he noticed a dark speck deep in the pale flesh, and as he investigated the speck he noticed a tiny puncture in the skin. He has missed it before, and might well have missed it this time as well if the effects of the freezing bath had not made Frodo's skin almost transparent, the tiny vessels in his skin narrowing and starting to shut down.
Dr Bramble felt as if a dozen candles had been lighted in his mind. "Of course! The lad caught a number of nasty splinters in his fall from the tree. I thought we had found them all, but clearly one went deeper than the rest and has become infected, thus exacerbating all of Frodo's other symptoms. Somehow I need to drain that infection and get that splinter out. Poor Frodo." Dr Bramble glanced at Sam's worried face and stopped talking. #It's a good thing he's unconscious#, he continued in his thoughts. #Lancing that infection is probably going to hurt even more than damaging his back did.# He turned back to Frodo and laid cool cloths on him until Bilbo could return.
A few minutes later the front door opened and an anxious Bell was ushered in by Bilbo. She hurried into the bathroom and instantly spotted Sam, who hunched down even further under her suddenly angry gaze. "Samwise Gamgee! If you know what's good for you, you had best get yourself back into your bed this instant! To be pestering Mr Baggins and the doctor in this way! I've never been so mortified in all my life! How will I be able to hold my head up in public when they find out I have such ill behaved children?"
Dr Bramble decided he had to break in and restore a little order. "Mrs Gamgee, it's not as bad as that. In fact, I think Sam's presence here has somehow been of considerable relief to Master Frodo. I don't know how, but Master Frodo seems to know Sam is here, and is comforted. Nevertheless," he turned to little Sam, who looked up at him with starry eyed gratitude, "young Master Samwise, here, is going to have to leave." Dr Bramble knelt to be on eye level with the little boy and spoke kindly, "Samwise, now that Mr Baggins is back I'm going to have to take care of Master Frodo, and I'm going to have to give him all my attention. I need you to go with your mother, and maybe, you can ask her to let you visit Frodo tomorrow evening once he's had a chance to recover - and he WILL recover, Sam, I promise you that. Mr Bilbo will let your mother know as soon as Frodo is up to it."
Bilbo nodded his head firmly and then held his hand out to Sam, who looked uncertain for a moment, but then stood and padded over to take the hand. Bilbo led him out of the bathroom, Bell following behind. As they left, Frodo moaned quietly, despairingly, but Mrs and Master Gamgee continued on until they had left Bag End and returned to their beds.
As soon as they were gone, Bilbo trotted back to the bathroom. "Doctor, you mentioned some sort of operation?" His heart dropped into his stomach and left him feeling once again deflated and worried.
The doctor looked up and noticed the effect his words had had on the older hobbit. "Now, Mr Baggins, don't take on so. I repeat what I said to Sam. I believe I've discovered the source of Frodo's rising fever, and once that has been removed Frodo will have an excellent chance of recovery. Of course, his legs are a different matter, but if I can get rid of the infection it may even have some effect on them. I will need you to be calm and collected, and to make sure Frodo doesn't move. But first I need a bowl of boiling water, and if you have a bottle of strong spirit then bring that along as well."
Bilbo disappeared for a few minutes and then returned bearing a large bowl of boiling water, a bottle of his strongest spirit and a few towels. Dr Bramble poured a little of the water into smaller bowl and then dropped a long handled knife with an almost impossibly thin blade into the large bowl along with several needles of different sizes. He used a little of the water in the smaller bowl to clean Frodo's lower back and then washed his hands. He retrieved a small vial from his bag and poured a little of the contents onto a gauze pad, which he rubbed over the bulge of the inflammation.
"Doctor, what are you doing?" Bilbo was watching Dr Bramble's actions intently, and very nervously.
"Mr Baggins, there is a splinter, likely from the tree he fell out of, lodged deeply in Frodo's back. I need to get it out, as I'm sure it's what is causing the infection. Once I've drained the infection and removed the splinter Frodo should rapidly recover until he is able to enjoy the world again. The bad news is that it is going to hurt very much. For that reason more than any other I could not let Sam stay any longer. And I will need you to be on hand to hold Frodo down should he start to struggle. I've numbed the skin over the inflammation with a rare oil I managed to purchase in Bree. That should help, but I don't want to take any chances. If you would please take up a position by his arms then I'll begin."
"Shouldn't we move him back to his bed for this? I'm sure the boy would be more comfortable there. Or onto the Kitchen table for height and sturdiness?" Bilbo was surprised that the doctor made no mention of moving Frodo out of the bathroom.
"It's because of the ice and water, Mr Baggins. I want him to be right here should his temperature rise to a critical level and we need to lay him back in the bath, and even if that's not the case we will still need to lay cold cloths sodden with the ice-water over him afterwards until we know his temperature is coming down. Now, if you would take his arms."
So saying, the doctor waited only until Bilbo went to his station then took up the knife from the bowl and cut deeply into Frodo's back. A second passed, then two, then Frodo suddenly woke, tensed and uttered an ear- piercing shriek!
"Bilbo, grab his arms!" Bilbo did so, tears pouring once again down his cheeks as he helped immobilise his agonised cousin. Oh, but the old hobbit felt as though he were torturing the thing he loved most in the world.
Dr Bramble sat on Frodo's thighs, leaned over his back once more and cut again, even more deeply. Frodo screamed a second time, struggling vainly to escape the pain, and then collapsed into merciful unconsciousness. Dr Bramble quickly withdrew his knife and squeezed on the sides of the inflammation. From the wound oozed a sickening mixture of new blood, old blood and greenish yellow pus. "Mr Bilbo! Quickly! More water!"
Bilbo leaped up on shaking legs and grabbed the kettle and another bowl from the kitchen and was back in an instant. Dr Bramble dabbed a pad in the boiling water and then cleaned away the substance seeping from Frodo's back. He squeezed again and reached for another pad as the reeking fluids surged forth once more. Again and again he pressed and cleaned until finally all that issued from Frodo was fresh, clean blood. Very carefully Dr Bramble examined Frodo paying particular attention to the small puncture and the tissues beneath it. All traces of black had now vanished. He sighed in relief. While Frodo's spine was still inflamed, the large bulge had reduced considerably in size. He was sure he had managed to completely drain the infection and the worst was now well and truly over. The splinter, too, was gone, washed out with the detritus from the infection.
Using his smallest needle, Dr Bramble carefully sewed up the incision he had made a few minutes previously and then sat heavily on the floor, feeling surprisingly exhausted after such a short procedure.
"Mr Bilbo, let's get those cool cloths on him again, but that area on his back must stay dry and clean. Let's wait a half hour or so. I'll sit by him to check him every few minutes and if his temperature drops then we can move him back to his bed." Dr Bramble glanced at Bilbo to make sure his advice had been understood and noticed that Bilbo's face had gone white and his hands had started to tremble. "But first let's administer the spirit! I'll need two small glasses." Bilbo wobbled somewhat as he made his way to the kitchen to fetch them, his mind beginning to cloud with the shock of what he'd just seen and done. Frodo's scream was still echoing in his mind.
Upon his return, the doctor splashed some of the spirit into each glass, passed one to Bilbo and kept the other for himself. "Drink that, Mr Baggins. I think you need it more than Frodo does right now! Down the hatch!" He sipped a little from his own glass, feeling the warmth burn it's way down his throat to his stomach and kept an eye on Bilbo until he saw Bilbo tip the glass up and swallow the contents. A moment later some colour returned to his face as he gasped and, satisfied that Bilbo would soon be all right, Milo returned his attention to the young hobbit in his charge. "Now, Master Frodo, let's see how you do and whether we can get you back into your nice, comfortable bed."
Trying to think of what to say, Bilbo found his mind had gone blank. Torn between relief that the operation was over and guilt that he had helped subject his dear, dear cousin to such torture, he found that he could not speak - could not even think. He wandered out of the bathroom, then wondered what he was doing in the hall and wandered back in again. After a few moments he grasped the last thing the doctor had said. "Bed. Yes. Move him back to his bed. I'd better change the bedding or the poor boy will be in such discomfort." Bilbo trotted off toward Frodo's bedroom, trying to regain meaning through routine and eventually regaining sufficient of his senses to complete his task and start to hope, again, that the poor lad, HIS lad was now on the road to recovery.