Residual Scarring 2/?
See part 1 for disclaimers
West Wing -Office of the Deputy Chief of Staff
Donna Moss sighed as she surveyed the disaster area her desk had become. Josh had been out a week; it would take a month just to get caught up again. Donna shook her head. Three days in the hospital, another four at home. She knew Josh was going crazy not being allowed to work, but she also knew how rotten he really felt.
"You take out stock in the paper industry?"
Donna chuckled and looked up at Sam, who was leaning against the doorway of her cubicle. "Hopefully we'll be able to get caught up before the end of this term! I don't know what is worse, dealing with Josh when he's sick, or dealing with the consequences of when Josh is sick." Donna swept a hand toward the stacks of files and messages on her desk.
Sam laughed, and then grew serious. "How is he? I wanted to come by yesterday, but was stuck in meetings until late." Sam had been to see Josh every day, including spending several nights so that Donna would go home and sleep.
"He's still feeling pretty lousy. Between the coughing and the nightmares he's not sleeping very much. It's driving him crazy to be at home, but it's obvious he doesn't have the energy to come in."
"Did he sleep through the night?"
Donna's shoulders slumped and she shook her head. "He woke up several times from nightmares. I can tell that he's terrified, but he won't talk about them. He had an asthma attack as well. He's yet to make it through 24 hours without at least one attack."
"You look exhausted, Donna." Sam looked at her with compassion. She was the most dedicated assistant Sam knew. Strike that, thought Sam, Donna is more than just Josh's assistant. "I'll stay with him tonight. You go home and rest. He'll be back here next week and things will be back to normal. Then you'll wonder why you didn't go home early when you had the chance."
"I have to pick up his prescription from the pharmacy."
"I can do it. Besides, I need to check with him on a thing we've been working on. I think it will do him good. We'll have a few beers, talk a little shop, and watch a movie, or something."
Donna acquiesced. "Alright. I guess I'll try to make a dent in this mess and then actually leave at a decent hour."
Sam chuckled, "Take it while you can." He flashed Donna a smile then turned and headed across the bullpen back to his own office.
"This isn't the way I'd like to get it." Donna said out loud to herself as she began sorting through the files and messages. It was going to be a long day.
Josh Lyman's Apartment- Georgetown.
Josh Lyman settled back on his couch, flipping idly through the cable channels. He came back to CNN and tossed the remote onto the coffee table. He glanced at his watch. Donna wouldn't be back for another few hours. He knew his assistant was wearing herself out tending to him, and he felt somewhat guilty, but he was also extremely grateful for her attentiveness.
He'd been anxious to get home from the hospital, even an hour in the hospital seemed too long to him. But now being at home didn't seem a whole lot better. He was bored. The doctor had given strict orders for him to rest and Leo had informed him in no uncertain terms that he had better follow those orders and not show his face at work until Monday. Donna had been gracious enough to bring him a very light load of work to do at home. Sam had stopped by daily, missing only the previous day. There had been phone calls from Leo, C.J., and Toby, as well as a few unavoidable conference calls.
Josh found the phone calls the hardest. He was exhausted. The medicine made him jittery, and he still had a persistent cough. Sometimes the coughing fits lasted for several minutes. While they were good in one sense, ridding his lungs of the "gunk" that was built up in them, these fits were painfully exhausting. They robbed Josh of his breath and his energy. The previous day Donna had to post-pone a conference call with a particularly obnoxious senator when coughing in the middle of the call incapacitated him.
Josh closed his eyes and grimaced at the memory. He was so tired. He forced his mind to do the calculations. The medicine he'd taken earlier should be wearing off enough for him to get some sleep before taking another dose and being subject to its side- effects. He relaxed his body and cleared his mind. Fortunately sleep came quickly.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Gunshots ripped through the night. People were screaming, running, diving for cover. Josh sagged against the wall before sliding to the ground, pain exploding in his chest. "God! I've been shot!" his mind registered the shock. "Somebody. help me!" he tried to cry out, but could only cough, as a band seemed to tighten around his chest. He gasped for air. He was going to die. He was a lone and he was going to die. Panic gripped him. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder and heard a familiar voice. It sounded far away. The sirens were loud, drowning out everything. "Josh! Josh!"
"Josh! Wake up! You're having a nightmare!" Sam Seaborn tried desperately to wake his friend. Josh moaned and moved restlessly on the coach. His breath was labored, the wheezes audible. Josh was clutching at his chest, right hand over the scar. He cried out and curled onto his side. His sweat soaked brown hair stuck to his face and neck.
Sam grimaced as Josh continued to cough. He again shook Josh gently. "Josh, it's Sam. Come on buddy, wake up. You're having a nightmare. You're safe in your apartment." Sam watched as Josh slowly stilled, his mind moving from the dream to wakefulness.
Josh finally laid still, his chest heaving, and breath whistling. He opened his eyes and focused on the concerned face of his best friend. He sagged back and closed his eyes again. "Sam." He wheezed. "What are you doing here?"
"Checking up on you." Sam pointed to the bag of take out on the coffee table beside him. "I brought dinner and your prescription." Sam tossed the pharmacy bag to Josh, who caught it against his chest.
"Thanks. Donna?" Josh kept his sentences short in an effort to conserve oxygen and energy.
"Yeah. I made sure she left at a decent hour."
"Good. Thanks."
"You're welcome. You sound horrible, Josh."
"Gee, thanks." Josh wheezed. He broke into another coughing fit. Josh quickly grabbed a tissue to cover his mouth as he felt things loosening up in his lungs. He gagged on the mucus that he raised.
Sam moved from the coffee table to sit beside his friend. He helped Josh sit up and gently rubbed his back until the coughing subsided. Josh dropped the wadded up tissues into the trashcan he'd set beside the couch and sagged back against the cushions. He leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and drew slow, measured breaths.
Sam watched Josh cautiously. What he saw scared him. The man before him was merely a shadow of the vibrant, energetic man that he'd known for years. Josh was pale and thin. The nervous energy was replaced by medicine-induced jitteriness. The sparkle was gone from the brown eyes, replaced by pain and exhaustion.
"Can you get me a glass of water?" Josh asked quietly.
Sam sat in shock for a moment before lurching to his feet and moving toward the kitchen. A Josh Lyman who asked for help with simple things and did not try to put up a front was something that Sam was unfamiliar with. It only served to heighten his concern. When Sam returned from the kitchen with the water Josh was laying on the couch covered with a blanket, propped up by pillows. He had opened the pharmacy bag and taken a pill from the brown bottle. Sam handed him the water and watched while Josh downed the new medicine, along with a couple other pills.
"Hungry?" Sam asked as he began to unpack the take out bag.
Josh shook his head. "You go ahead and eat. I'll have something later."
Sam sighed. "Josh, you've got to eat."
Josh opened his eyes, leveling his gaze on Sam. "I'm not hungry. Don't try to cajole or badger me, Sam. I'm getting enough of that from Donna and my mother."
"How is your mother?" The significance of the topic change was not lost on either man.
Josh scrubbed a hand over his face. "She's calling every other day. It took awhile, but I finally convinced her not to fly up."
"She's worried about you. It's been a rough year."
Josh remained silent. Sam picked up a spring roll from a take out carton. "So, I've got the language finished for the bill. Do you want to go over it?"
"Sure." Josh pushed himself up and reached out for Sam's notepad. Sam drew the notepad from his briefcase and handed it over. Soon Josh was focused on the written words with Sam watching his face for his reaction.
After an hour of work, which included two arguments and at least three coughing fits, Josh threw his notepad and pen onto the coffee table amid the half empty take out cartons. "I can't do this anymore."
Sam looked up in surprise. "Okay. We got a lot done, anyway. We can come back to this on Monday."
"No. I mean this." Josh waved his hand in the air. "I hate being sick. I hate being weak. I hate not being able to concentrate. I hate not being able to breathe." Josh sagged back against the cushions and coughed a few times. When he spoke again, his voice was barely audible, his despair evident. "I'm tired of the hovering. Of the pitying looks and being treated like I'm going to break."
Sam sat in silence, his heart breaking for his friend. After a moment he spoke. "I wish I could take all this away from you, Josh. I wish there was something more I could do. We care about you. We want to help you, but there is only so much we can do. This is the way it is, but things will get better."
Josh closed his eyes and nodded.
After looking at his watch Sam began cleaning up the coffee table. "You should go to bed. You've got a weekend off. Enjoy it. Come into work Monday, allow your friends to care for you. You'll learn how to manage this Josh. It won't control your life."
Josh pushed himself off the couch and staggered down the hallway to his bedroom. As Sam busied himself with clearing away the take out cartons and half eaten food he thought back over what he'd said to Josh. He wasn't entirely sure who he was trying to convince; Josh or himself.
West Wing -Office of the Deputy Chief of Staff
Donna Moss sighed as she surveyed the disaster area her desk had become. Josh had been out a week; it would take a month just to get caught up again. Donna shook her head. Three days in the hospital, another four at home. She knew Josh was going crazy not being allowed to work, but she also knew how rotten he really felt.
"You take out stock in the paper industry?"
Donna chuckled and looked up at Sam, who was leaning against the doorway of her cubicle. "Hopefully we'll be able to get caught up before the end of this term! I don't know what is worse, dealing with Josh when he's sick, or dealing with the consequences of when Josh is sick." Donna swept a hand toward the stacks of files and messages on her desk.
Sam laughed, and then grew serious. "How is he? I wanted to come by yesterday, but was stuck in meetings until late." Sam had been to see Josh every day, including spending several nights so that Donna would go home and sleep.
"He's still feeling pretty lousy. Between the coughing and the nightmares he's not sleeping very much. It's driving him crazy to be at home, but it's obvious he doesn't have the energy to come in."
"Did he sleep through the night?"
Donna's shoulders slumped and she shook her head. "He woke up several times from nightmares. I can tell that he's terrified, but he won't talk about them. He had an asthma attack as well. He's yet to make it through 24 hours without at least one attack."
"You look exhausted, Donna." Sam looked at her with compassion. She was the most dedicated assistant Sam knew. Strike that, thought Sam, Donna is more than just Josh's assistant. "I'll stay with him tonight. You go home and rest. He'll be back here next week and things will be back to normal. Then you'll wonder why you didn't go home early when you had the chance."
"I have to pick up his prescription from the pharmacy."
"I can do it. Besides, I need to check with him on a thing we've been working on. I think it will do him good. We'll have a few beers, talk a little shop, and watch a movie, or something."
Donna acquiesced. "Alright. I guess I'll try to make a dent in this mess and then actually leave at a decent hour."
Sam chuckled, "Take it while you can." He flashed Donna a smile then turned and headed across the bullpen back to his own office.
"This isn't the way I'd like to get it." Donna said out loud to herself as she began sorting through the files and messages. It was going to be a long day.
Josh Lyman's Apartment- Georgetown.
Josh Lyman settled back on his couch, flipping idly through the cable channels. He came back to CNN and tossed the remote onto the coffee table. He glanced at his watch. Donna wouldn't be back for another few hours. He knew his assistant was wearing herself out tending to him, and he felt somewhat guilty, but he was also extremely grateful for her attentiveness.
He'd been anxious to get home from the hospital, even an hour in the hospital seemed too long to him. But now being at home didn't seem a whole lot better. He was bored. The doctor had given strict orders for him to rest and Leo had informed him in no uncertain terms that he had better follow those orders and not show his face at work until Monday. Donna had been gracious enough to bring him a very light load of work to do at home. Sam had stopped by daily, missing only the previous day. There had been phone calls from Leo, C.J., and Toby, as well as a few unavoidable conference calls.
Josh found the phone calls the hardest. He was exhausted. The medicine made him jittery, and he still had a persistent cough. Sometimes the coughing fits lasted for several minutes. While they were good in one sense, ridding his lungs of the "gunk" that was built up in them, these fits were painfully exhausting. They robbed Josh of his breath and his energy. The previous day Donna had to post-pone a conference call with a particularly obnoxious senator when coughing in the middle of the call incapacitated him.
Josh closed his eyes and grimaced at the memory. He was so tired. He forced his mind to do the calculations. The medicine he'd taken earlier should be wearing off enough for him to get some sleep before taking another dose and being subject to its side- effects. He relaxed his body and cleared his mind. Fortunately sleep came quickly.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Gunshots ripped through the night. People were screaming, running, diving for cover. Josh sagged against the wall before sliding to the ground, pain exploding in his chest. "God! I've been shot!" his mind registered the shock. "Somebody. help me!" he tried to cry out, but could only cough, as a band seemed to tighten around his chest. He gasped for air. He was going to die. He was a lone and he was going to die. Panic gripped him. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder and heard a familiar voice. It sounded far away. The sirens were loud, drowning out everything. "Josh! Josh!"
"Josh! Wake up! You're having a nightmare!" Sam Seaborn tried desperately to wake his friend. Josh moaned and moved restlessly on the coach. His breath was labored, the wheezes audible. Josh was clutching at his chest, right hand over the scar. He cried out and curled onto his side. His sweat soaked brown hair stuck to his face and neck.
Sam grimaced as Josh continued to cough. He again shook Josh gently. "Josh, it's Sam. Come on buddy, wake up. You're having a nightmare. You're safe in your apartment." Sam watched as Josh slowly stilled, his mind moving from the dream to wakefulness.
Josh finally laid still, his chest heaving, and breath whistling. He opened his eyes and focused on the concerned face of his best friend. He sagged back and closed his eyes again. "Sam." He wheezed. "What are you doing here?"
"Checking up on you." Sam pointed to the bag of take out on the coffee table beside him. "I brought dinner and your prescription." Sam tossed the pharmacy bag to Josh, who caught it against his chest.
"Thanks. Donna?" Josh kept his sentences short in an effort to conserve oxygen and energy.
"Yeah. I made sure she left at a decent hour."
"Good. Thanks."
"You're welcome. You sound horrible, Josh."
"Gee, thanks." Josh wheezed. He broke into another coughing fit. Josh quickly grabbed a tissue to cover his mouth as he felt things loosening up in his lungs. He gagged on the mucus that he raised.
Sam moved from the coffee table to sit beside his friend. He helped Josh sit up and gently rubbed his back until the coughing subsided. Josh dropped the wadded up tissues into the trashcan he'd set beside the couch and sagged back against the cushions. He leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and drew slow, measured breaths.
Sam watched Josh cautiously. What he saw scared him. The man before him was merely a shadow of the vibrant, energetic man that he'd known for years. Josh was pale and thin. The nervous energy was replaced by medicine-induced jitteriness. The sparkle was gone from the brown eyes, replaced by pain and exhaustion.
"Can you get me a glass of water?" Josh asked quietly.
Sam sat in shock for a moment before lurching to his feet and moving toward the kitchen. A Josh Lyman who asked for help with simple things and did not try to put up a front was something that Sam was unfamiliar with. It only served to heighten his concern. When Sam returned from the kitchen with the water Josh was laying on the couch covered with a blanket, propped up by pillows. He had opened the pharmacy bag and taken a pill from the brown bottle. Sam handed him the water and watched while Josh downed the new medicine, along with a couple other pills.
"Hungry?" Sam asked as he began to unpack the take out bag.
Josh shook his head. "You go ahead and eat. I'll have something later."
Sam sighed. "Josh, you've got to eat."
Josh opened his eyes, leveling his gaze on Sam. "I'm not hungry. Don't try to cajole or badger me, Sam. I'm getting enough of that from Donna and my mother."
"How is your mother?" The significance of the topic change was not lost on either man.
Josh scrubbed a hand over his face. "She's calling every other day. It took awhile, but I finally convinced her not to fly up."
"She's worried about you. It's been a rough year."
Josh remained silent. Sam picked up a spring roll from a take out carton. "So, I've got the language finished for the bill. Do you want to go over it?"
"Sure." Josh pushed himself up and reached out for Sam's notepad. Sam drew the notepad from his briefcase and handed it over. Soon Josh was focused on the written words with Sam watching his face for his reaction.
After an hour of work, which included two arguments and at least three coughing fits, Josh threw his notepad and pen onto the coffee table amid the half empty take out cartons. "I can't do this anymore."
Sam looked up in surprise. "Okay. We got a lot done, anyway. We can come back to this on Monday."
"No. I mean this." Josh waved his hand in the air. "I hate being sick. I hate being weak. I hate not being able to concentrate. I hate not being able to breathe." Josh sagged back against the cushions and coughed a few times. When he spoke again, his voice was barely audible, his despair evident. "I'm tired of the hovering. Of the pitying looks and being treated like I'm going to break."
Sam sat in silence, his heart breaking for his friend. After a moment he spoke. "I wish I could take all this away from you, Josh. I wish there was something more I could do. We care about you. We want to help you, but there is only so much we can do. This is the way it is, but things will get better."
Josh closed his eyes and nodded.
After looking at his watch Sam began cleaning up the coffee table. "You should go to bed. You've got a weekend off. Enjoy it. Come into work Monday, allow your friends to care for you. You'll learn how to manage this Josh. It won't control your life."
Josh pushed himself off the couch and staggered down the hallway to his bedroom. As Sam busied himself with clearing away the take out cartons and half eaten food he thought back over what he'd said to Josh. He wasn't entirely sure who he was trying to convince; Josh or himself.