Author's Notes: Okay one of two chapters I want to put up today. Like I said, I was spending Halloween home, alone. Another fight. I think that's about all me and my bf do. But anyways off that topic. I haven't done thank you's in a while so here we go::: CATIE: thanks for sticking with me for so long... you really are great! KATTYBABY2318: sorry, double angsty, but I promise it will get better.. At least only one of the two hates each other.. FUURUMA: Keep hope, just keep hope.. It will all work out in the end... I hope... ABBY: thank you!! I thought it was about time to leave the Wyczenski gene pool alone.. CARBYLUV: Poor Abby.. Not poor Carter... Well unless Carter comes back with a huge diamond ring that would be elegantly placed on Abby's ring finger.. Until then, he's on my **** list... ;-) TINA: thanks for the constant reviews..!!! HELEN: for the reviews... Always and forever. You're the best!! TAYLOR WISE: thank you for he review.. the little bit of happiness I get during my day... AMANDA: awesome reviews.. thanks!! IDONTWRITEIJUSTREAD, FANFICWREADER,CARBYLUVER,FAITH,CANARD, and HYPERPIPER: Thank you guys so much for reviewing.. You really have no clue how much it means to me. It motivates me to write, even when I don't want to or am just way too tired to do anything else. For all it's worth, all of you mean the world to me because you care enough to let me know what you think!! Thank you! I don't think I'd be this far without you!!!
~*~
She steaded her hand, the syringe and needle feeling heavier than ever. She stuck the tip of the needle gently into the first layer of skin, piercing it slightly, making sure the local anesthetic had begun working. This was the hardest procedure she ever had to do. Not because she didn't know what she was doing, on the contrary, this was a regular procedure. It was because of the person lying awake on the bed, sacrificing himself. She started to drive the needle deeper and deeper, she needed to hit the hip bone, and push it through. She needed to get his bone marrow for the biopsy. To see if he was a match. She had spent the last few hours discussing courses of action to take, the chemo wasn't helping anymore, and she didn't want to expose him to some experimental immunotherapy, so a bone marrow transplant was her only hope right now. And so far Carter was the only one that matched the first step, blood type. He was the universal donor, he was O negative. She hated doing this, but he had begged her. He told her he trusted no one but her with his life. Was that supposed to be some type of compliment? She didn't give a damn about him, she just wanted to finish this so she could get the results up to the lab. The final results on John had come back this morning, Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia. Death was usually within a matter of weeks, the disease was never caught early. So many machines, so many tests, and they couldn't do anything until it was too late.
She was running the biopsy by feel only, she wasn't looking at it, sliding the needle deeper and deeper. She couldn't think about what she was doing, she had to mentally picture it, and through sense finish the procedure. She felt added resistance, and knew she was nearing the bone, and she pushed harder. She felt him jump from under her, still awake, the discomfort yielding a small moan from him. Suck it up. He did this to him, he should suffer equally, if not more than John. She pushed it in completely and began drawing back the marrow. After a few minutes, she slid the needle out, cleaning the injection site, and placing a bandage over it. She grabbed the marrow from the table that she had set it on, wrote down Carter's name, and headed out the door, without even a second glace at the man lying on the table, even with the anesthetic, in a moderate amount of pain.
She ran to the lab, handing off the container to the tech, quickly saying something about rushing the results STAT to pediatric oncology. She walked to the door and headed back to the ER, she still had to finish off another three hours. She was just about to grab another chart when her pager when off. She looked at the number 911, room 363. She threw the chart back onto the pile, sprinting up the stairs to John's room. Something was happening. She just couldn't figure it out. She got up there in a matter of seconds. The nurse at the front desk started restraining her from getting any closer to his door. She heard commotion, doctors and nurses running in and out of the room, but she knew little of what was going on, although the doctor in her knew he had probably stopped breathing, his heart stopped fighting, giving up on life. She gave up trying to get over there, and forgot completely about the world around her. So this was how it was going to end. This was it. She steadied herself against the desk, still in complete shock. She didn't want to move. Everything prevented her from moving.
She listened deeper, the whole floor dead silent except for everything in that room. She heard clear. V-fib. Charge 200. Clear. Charge 250. Clear. We got tach. Arrhythmia. Flat line. 300. Clear. Charge again. Clear. Things she said everyday without completely comprehending what they meant except for the medical procedure associated with them. How long would they continue to fight? An hour? Two? Wear out everything in him, every resource they had. But it wouldn't mean anything. If you don't get them back within the first fifteen minutes, they are brain dead. The brain would be deprived of too much oxygen, rendering them a vegetable. And then it was never the hospital's fault, we saved them, instead of letting them die, and physically suffer, although they probably felt nothing. The families that didn't want to let go.
She was holding her breath. Her pulse was racing, the world spinning around her. She was holding on the counter, her knuckles turning white. The world was on hold. She finally let a breath out when she heard one of the doctors from the room say 'we got him back, let's keep him that way'. She waited a few minutes, letting the crowd clear out of the room and pulling herself together before she approached the attending on call.
"Dr. Clarion?"
She was watching him write his lab orders up when he looked up at her.
"Mmhmm?"
She hated those types of doctors. That disregarded everything personal, just the disease. Every patient was just a patient. But sometimes it was the only way to get through a shift.
"How is he doing?"
She knew the answer, but she hoped he would give her some good news.
"Dr. Wyczenski, you know your son's current prognosis. I'm not going to lie to you. You know as well as I do his chances are decreasing by the hour."
She closed her eyes. No sense of hope was left in him. She was just supposed to wait and let him die?
"Is there anything that can be done?"
She saw he handed off the chart to the nurse, and he gently pushed her into a walk towards the elevator.
"We need to get that bone marrow biopsy from Dr. Carter as soon as possible. If necessary we can pull together a team within the next few hours if it turns out a match. His situation is critical. You need to consider how aggressively you want us to proceed."
She wanted him to fight with all his will, do everything in his power to help her son. Nothing else mattered to her more than seeing her son alive. But instead of saying anything she slowly nodded her head.
"I'm going to hurry the lab up with that biopsy. I suggest you head home, doctor, and try to get some rest."
She nodded her head again in reply. She couldn't head home. She still had a shift to finish and what if he arrested and she was at home. By the time she would get to the hospital, it would all be over. And she would never be able to forgive herself for not being there. She leaned against the wall of the elevator as she saw him step off hurriedly towards the lab. She hoped Carter was a match, since getting another might take weeks, even months. Time that no one had.
~*~
She steaded her hand, the syringe and needle feeling heavier than ever. She stuck the tip of the needle gently into the first layer of skin, piercing it slightly, making sure the local anesthetic had begun working. This was the hardest procedure she ever had to do. Not because she didn't know what she was doing, on the contrary, this was a regular procedure. It was because of the person lying awake on the bed, sacrificing himself. She started to drive the needle deeper and deeper, she needed to hit the hip bone, and push it through. She needed to get his bone marrow for the biopsy. To see if he was a match. She had spent the last few hours discussing courses of action to take, the chemo wasn't helping anymore, and she didn't want to expose him to some experimental immunotherapy, so a bone marrow transplant was her only hope right now. And so far Carter was the only one that matched the first step, blood type. He was the universal donor, he was O negative. She hated doing this, but he had begged her. He told her he trusted no one but her with his life. Was that supposed to be some type of compliment? She didn't give a damn about him, she just wanted to finish this so she could get the results up to the lab. The final results on John had come back this morning, Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia. Death was usually within a matter of weeks, the disease was never caught early. So many machines, so many tests, and they couldn't do anything until it was too late.
She was running the biopsy by feel only, she wasn't looking at it, sliding the needle deeper and deeper. She couldn't think about what she was doing, she had to mentally picture it, and through sense finish the procedure. She felt added resistance, and knew she was nearing the bone, and she pushed harder. She felt him jump from under her, still awake, the discomfort yielding a small moan from him. Suck it up. He did this to him, he should suffer equally, if not more than John. She pushed it in completely and began drawing back the marrow. After a few minutes, she slid the needle out, cleaning the injection site, and placing a bandage over it. She grabbed the marrow from the table that she had set it on, wrote down Carter's name, and headed out the door, without even a second glace at the man lying on the table, even with the anesthetic, in a moderate amount of pain.
She ran to the lab, handing off the container to the tech, quickly saying something about rushing the results STAT to pediatric oncology. She walked to the door and headed back to the ER, she still had to finish off another three hours. She was just about to grab another chart when her pager when off. She looked at the number 911, room 363. She threw the chart back onto the pile, sprinting up the stairs to John's room. Something was happening. She just couldn't figure it out. She got up there in a matter of seconds. The nurse at the front desk started restraining her from getting any closer to his door. She heard commotion, doctors and nurses running in and out of the room, but she knew little of what was going on, although the doctor in her knew he had probably stopped breathing, his heart stopped fighting, giving up on life. She gave up trying to get over there, and forgot completely about the world around her. So this was how it was going to end. This was it. She steadied herself against the desk, still in complete shock. She didn't want to move. Everything prevented her from moving.
She listened deeper, the whole floor dead silent except for everything in that room. She heard clear. V-fib. Charge 200. Clear. Charge 250. Clear. We got tach. Arrhythmia. Flat line. 300. Clear. Charge again. Clear. Things she said everyday without completely comprehending what they meant except for the medical procedure associated with them. How long would they continue to fight? An hour? Two? Wear out everything in him, every resource they had. But it wouldn't mean anything. If you don't get them back within the first fifteen minutes, they are brain dead. The brain would be deprived of too much oxygen, rendering them a vegetable. And then it was never the hospital's fault, we saved them, instead of letting them die, and physically suffer, although they probably felt nothing. The families that didn't want to let go.
She was holding her breath. Her pulse was racing, the world spinning around her. She was holding on the counter, her knuckles turning white. The world was on hold. She finally let a breath out when she heard one of the doctors from the room say 'we got him back, let's keep him that way'. She waited a few minutes, letting the crowd clear out of the room and pulling herself together before she approached the attending on call.
"Dr. Clarion?"
She was watching him write his lab orders up when he looked up at her.
"Mmhmm?"
She hated those types of doctors. That disregarded everything personal, just the disease. Every patient was just a patient. But sometimes it was the only way to get through a shift.
"How is he doing?"
She knew the answer, but she hoped he would give her some good news.
"Dr. Wyczenski, you know your son's current prognosis. I'm not going to lie to you. You know as well as I do his chances are decreasing by the hour."
She closed her eyes. No sense of hope was left in him. She was just supposed to wait and let him die?
"Is there anything that can be done?"
She saw he handed off the chart to the nurse, and he gently pushed her into a walk towards the elevator.
"We need to get that bone marrow biopsy from Dr. Carter as soon as possible. If necessary we can pull together a team within the next few hours if it turns out a match. His situation is critical. You need to consider how aggressively you want us to proceed."
She wanted him to fight with all his will, do everything in his power to help her son. Nothing else mattered to her more than seeing her son alive. But instead of saying anything she slowly nodded her head.
"I'm going to hurry the lab up with that biopsy. I suggest you head home, doctor, and try to get some rest."
She nodded her head again in reply. She couldn't head home. She still had a shift to finish and what if he arrested and she was at home. By the time she would get to the hospital, it would all be over. And she would never be able to forgive herself for not being there. She leaned against the wall of the elevator as she saw him step off hurriedly towards the lab. She hoped Carter was a match, since getting another might take weeks, even months. Time that no one had.