Chapter twenty-two
The blowup
So for two weeks, until January 25, Chet was kept in reverse isolation to ensure he would not get any infections. During this time the only visitors he was permitted close contact with were Jeanette, his mom and Tim. All others had to visit from the doorway. Chet understood and accepted the precautions, but this didn't lessen his feelings of being on display.
He had to endure blood work every day to be sure he was ok.
Then, IT happened. On the morning of January 15, just when things were going great, Chet slipped coming out of the shower and scraped his left knee on the stall. Thinking nothing of it, he continued drying and dressing.
But when it had not stopped bleeding ten minutes later, he called the nurse, a little nervously.
Everyone ran in like he had just had a cardiac arrest or something.
The orderlies actually physically lifted him onto the bed and Dr. Brackett examined a very nervous Chet Kelly.
"Ok, Chet, exactly when did this happen?"
Chet nervously relayed what had transpired and tried to laugh it off, but
realized no one else found this in any way amusing.
"Man, you guys are worse than nuns" He thought, gloomingly, to himself.
When Dr. Brackett had examined Chet and decided for himself that all was ok, he sent the others away.
"Chet, I know this looked like overkill, but remember you are scheduled to get the transplant in ten days and we don't want anything to wreck up the schedule, as I am sure you don't. Believe me, every little scrape could lead to an infection, so I am going to order another white blood cell count just to be sure."
"You mean for tomorrow morning? Aren't I already getting one everyday?"
"No, Chet, not tomorrow, but now. I am ordering an extra one NOW. We really have to be extra careful. I know how you must feel."
Chet didn't mean to, but when he heard Dr. Brackett say that, he raged, "YOU KNOW HOW I FEEL? YEAH, SURE. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN POKED AND PRODDED TWO OR THREE TIMES A DAY EVERY DAY? DO PEOPLE COME TO SEE YOU TO STARE AT THE LATEST FREAK, TO SEE IF MAYBE YOU'VE GROWN EXTRA ARMS OR SOMETHING? No, they don't, so don't tell me you know how I feel!
"I feel like a real circus freak and pin cushion.
"Sorry, Dr. Brackett, I am just so tired of all the poking and prodding, and I know it's not half over yet. I DO understand why, believe me, but I just needed to vent my feelings. I feel so pent up. I can't burden Jeanette with this; she has enough to deal with. Being pregnant, and having Tim. I just feel...."
Sympathizing with the young man, Dr. Brackett said, "'Would you like to discuss your feelings with someone? Maybe a therapist or a psychiatrist?"
"That may be a good idea, give you guys a break," And he smiled, "But not a doctor. No put down, doc, but I've had enough doctors for a while. A therapist might be an idea, though; one who has dealt with frustrated crazy firemen might be good. That would make it easier for Jeanette, too. She knows I 'm hiding my feelings for her and gets angry when I won't discuss them with her."
"Ok, Chet. I will check on it right now. I'm glad you agreed. My nurses have been telling me you are getting grumpy and they are not used to it. This is harder for you psychologically than last year, huh? The nurses that knew you then think it is."
Nodding affirmatively, Chet said, "Yeah, but I don't really know why. I guess it must have something to do with the increased mobility but still forced confinement. Last year, I was confined, but physically, and this year it is totally different. Do you understand what I mean? Does that make any sense?"
"Yes, it does. Chet, a lot of sense. And maybe talking to the therapist will help you put everything into better perspective. ok?"
Dr. Brackett left to make the necessary arrangements, just as Jeanette entered.
She was distraught having heard from her friends what happened.
"Chet, honey, you ok?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just scraped my knee. Doctor Brackett ordered more blood work and I am going to talk to a therapist to help me deal with all this garbage going on. You don't mind, do you?"
"NO, not all, in fact, I am glad to hear it. I know this is tearing you up inside and if you won't discuss it with me, maybe the therapist is a good idea. I know why so don't act all hurt and all. I love you, Chet, and understand you don't want me to worry. But you must know I do anyway whether you tell me stuff or not. Your mom does, too, ya know."
Smiling sheepishly at this wonderful woman he was married to, Chet said, "I know, but you have enough on your plate, with the baby and Timmy. He is ok, right?"
"He is doing great, just misses his daddy."
They continued to discuss the therapy and Jeanette kept ensuring Chet that even though time seemed to be dragging, it was going rather fast for her.
Chet continued with therapy, but in his room. He also began speaking with a therapist, which really helped him relax, and even he saw the changes in himself.