Carter parked his jeep, stepped out into the bitter cold. After almost 8 months in Africa, it was a shock to come back to Chicago in December. Cold, snow, dark.
Would he stay? When he'd left Kisangani, he hadn't been certain. He had things to do; settle Gamma's estate, spend Christmas with his father, see friends he hadn't seen in far too long. And yes, see Luka, make sure he was doing well. The man was not much of a correspondent. (But then, neither was he.) The first few days home, the comforts of civilization had been quite seductive indeed; hot showers, good food, people who spoke English everywhere he turned. (Even after 8 months, French was largely gibberish to him, but then, languages had never been one of his talents, and with the many multilingual staff members always happy to translate for him, he'd never been forced to sink or swim and learn!) But now, the cold snap was making him reconsider yet again. 95 degrees in the shade might not be so bad after all ....
Still, he didn't have to decide yet. He'd told Angelique he'd be gone for at least a couple of months, and then he'd decide one way or another.
Through the ambulance bay doors and into the ER. It looked strange. They had remodeled. "Dr. Carter!" Chuny came running and caught him in a big hug. "When did you get back?"
"A couple of days ago. I've been settling in, taking care of some business."
Chuny dragged him down the hall, screaming to everyone that "Carter's back!" and he was smothered by more hugs and kisses and found himself trying to answer a dozen questions all at once. And then he spotted Susan, standing off to one side, grinning at him, but her smile looked tired.
"Please tell me you're back for good and you're going to start taking shifts again," she said quietly.
Carter disengaged himself from the pack of puppies and followed her into the lounge. "I'm not sure yet," he said. "It will depend on how things go. I'll be working for a couple of months anyway though." He poured himself some coffee. "Isn't Luka back to work yet? I tried to call him a couple of times since I've been home. I get the machine, but he hasn't returned my calls." He tried to keep his voice casual.
Susan looked uneasy. "He's back ... sort of."
"Meaning what, exactly?"
"He was back to work for a while, but now he's upstairs in the ICU."
"With what? What happened?"
"Another uneasy look, then Susan seemed to make up her mind. "PCP."
Carter closed his eyes. "Shit ..." he whispered. "AIDS?" Susan nodded. "When was he diagnosed?" Susan again looked unwilling to answer, and Carter said, "I know that he was exposed in the Congo. It was something he was ... really scared about."
"He was diagnosed the same time they diagnosed the pneumonia. He hadn't had the 6 month test yet. I think he was putting it off ... was afraid to find out. He hadn't been well for a while."
"How did he take the news?"
Susan smiled. "Your guess is as good as mine, Carter. We've ... Luka and I have gotten pretty close ... I'm probably the best friend he has ... but he still doesn't really talk to me. It's hard to know what he's thinking, feeling. And he was just extubated a few days ago, so he hasn't had much time to talk about it yet. He had to have known though. He was so sick ... but he kept insisting it was the flu. I didn't even know he'd been exposed; was on prophylaxis. He'd never told me. Not until he was so sick. If we'd known before, we could have gotten him on a more effective combination."
Carter sipped his coffee. "Has he told you much about Africa? About what happened to him there?"
"No. Almost nothing. He doesn't let me ask, either. He's told me a little about his work there, but I don't know anything else."
"He experienced some pretty horrible things."
"I guessed that much," Susan said quietly.
"So it's not surprising that he's still using denial as a coping tool. It's not very healthy, emotionally or physically, but I guess it's worked for him up until now, and it seems the easiest way." Carter could still see Luka in his bed in Kisangani, hear him saying fiercely 'I don't remember anything, Carter!' ... while he knew well that he himself would never forget his own first sight of Luka in Matenda, covered with flies and blood. This just wasn't something you forgot. Ever.
Susan nodded. "It's just so hard for me. I care about him, Carter. It's hard seeing him in pain, and not knowing how to help. But if I push too hard, I'm afraid I'll push him away."
"I know that feeling," Carter assured her. He finished his coffee. "Can he have visitors upstairs?"
"Yeah. He's extubated, doing much better. They'll probably be moving him out of the ICU tomorrow. I'm sure he'll be thrilled to see you."
--------
Carter stood outside the glass. Luka appeared to be asleep. An oxygen mask covered the lower part of his face. The part Carter could see was rather pale. The monitors showed a rapid pulse and an oxygen level that still seemed a little low considering the mask. He looked, Carter thought, somewhat better than he had when he'd said good-bye in Kisangani, but this wasn't what he'd expected to find. Not what he'd expected at all.
The ICU nurse approached him. "Hello Dr. Carter," and he recognized her. She'd worked in the ER briefly a few years before. "You can go in if you like."
"I wouldn't want to wake him."
"I'm sure he won't mind. He doesn't get a lot of visitors."
So Carter opened the door and went in, and Luka stirred; opened his eyes.
"Hey, Luka," Carter said softly. "Didn't mean to wake you."
"Wasn't sleeping," Luka said. He looked confused for a moment, then a smile lit his face. He moved the mask from his mouth so he could talk more easily. "When did you get back?"
"A few days ago. When you get home you'll find a bunch of messages on your machine." Carter took the mask and started to replace it. "You should keep that on," but Luka shook his head.
"Don't really need it. Just wear it to make them happy." Clearly a lie. Every word was a little more breathless than the one before, and his sats dropped a few points on the monitor. He didn't object when Carter firmly replaced it. A few breaths from the mask, then, "Home for good?"
"Don't know yet. I'll have to see how it goes. Kisangani's wonderful, but civilization has its perks."
"When I get out of here, I'll have to walk for you. I do it pretty good now."
"I'll be looking forward to seeing it," Carter said with a smile.
"Two legs, both mine. One crutch."
Carter could only smile again. At least Luka had gotten the two things he'd wanted most, to keep his leg, and to walk again. But God ... why this? Hadn't he been through enough?
"So," he said after a minute. "I guess the leg works well enough for some nice slow dancing with Susan?"
"Did she tell you that?" Luka's eyes were suddenly troubled.
"No. She said you've been spending a lot of time together. I assumed..."
"We're not ... a couple. It's complicated."
"Women usually are, right?" Carter spoke lightly, and Luka smiled a little. "Ok," Carter went on. "You're tired. I'd better let you rest. I'll be around for at least a couple of months; we'll have lots of time to talk, catch up, when you're feeling better."
Luka nodded, closed his eyes. Carter clasped his hand briefly, and turned to go, but Luka said, "Carter."
"Yeah?"
"I never thanked you ... for saving my life."
"Yes, you did."
"No."
"Luka, you are alive. You are walking. That's all the thanks I need. Now you just keep fighting. You stay alive. Don't let it be for nothing."
Would he stay? When he'd left Kisangani, he hadn't been certain. He had things to do; settle Gamma's estate, spend Christmas with his father, see friends he hadn't seen in far too long. And yes, see Luka, make sure he was doing well. The man was not much of a correspondent. (But then, neither was he.) The first few days home, the comforts of civilization had been quite seductive indeed; hot showers, good food, people who spoke English everywhere he turned. (Even after 8 months, French was largely gibberish to him, but then, languages had never been one of his talents, and with the many multilingual staff members always happy to translate for him, he'd never been forced to sink or swim and learn!) But now, the cold snap was making him reconsider yet again. 95 degrees in the shade might not be so bad after all ....
Still, he didn't have to decide yet. He'd told Angelique he'd be gone for at least a couple of months, and then he'd decide one way or another.
Through the ambulance bay doors and into the ER. It looked strange. They had remodeled. "Dr. Carter!" Chuny came running and caught him in a big hug. "When did you get back?"
"A couple of days ago. I've been settling in, taking care of some business."
Chuny dragged him down the hall, screaming to everyone that "Carter's back!" and he was smothered by more hugs and kisses and found himself trying to answer a dozen questions all at once. And then he spotted Susan, standing off to one side, grinning at him, but her smile looked tired.
"Please tell me you're back for good and you're going to start taking shifts again," she said quietly.
Carter disengaged himself from the pack of puppies and followed her into the lounge. "I'm not sure yet," he said. "It will depend on how things go. I'll be working for a couple of months anyway though." He poured himself some coffee. "Isn't Luka back to work yet? I tried to call him a couple of times since I've been home. I get the machine, but he hasn't returned my calls." He tried to keep his voice casual.
Susan looked uneasy. "He's back ... sort of."
"Meaning what, exactly?"
"He was back to work for a while, but now he's upstairs in the ICU."
"With what? What happened?"
"Another uneasy look, then Susan seemed to make up her mind. "PCP."
Carter closed his eyes. "Shit ..." he whispered. "AIDS?" Susan nodded. "When was he diagnosed?" Susan again looked unwilling to answer, and Carter said, "I know that he was exposed in the Congo. It was something he was ... really scared about."
"He was diagnosed the same time they diagnosed the pneumonia. He hadn't had the 6 month test yet. I think he was putting it off ... was afraid to find out. He hadn't been well for a while."
"How did he take the news?"
Susan smiled. "Your guess is as good as mine, Carter. We've ... Luka and I have gotten pretty close ... I'm probably the best friend he has ... but he still doesn't really talk to me. It's hard to know what he's thinking, feeling. And he was just extubated a few days ago, so he hasn't had much time to talk about it yet. He had to have known though. He was so sick ... but he kept insisting it was the flu. I didn't even know he'd been exposed; was on prophylaxis. He'd never told me. Not until he was so sick. If we'd known before, we could have gotten him on a more effective combination."
Carter sipped his coffee. "Has he told you much about Africa? About what happened to him there?"
"No. Almost nothing. He doesn't let me ask, either. He's told me a little about his work there, but I don't know anything else."
"He experienced some pretty horrible things."
"I guessed that much," Susan said quietly.
"So it's not surprising that he's still using denial as a coping tool. It's not very healthy, emotionally or physically, but I guess it's worked for him up until now, and it seems the easiest way." Carter could still see Luka in his bed in Kisangani, hear him saying fiercely 'I don't remember anything, Carter!' ... while he knew well that he himself would never forget his own first sight of Luka in Matenda, covered with flies and blood. This just wasn't something you forgot. Ever.
Susan nodded. "It's just so hard for me. I care about him, Carter. It's hard seeing him in pain, and not knowing how to help. But if I push too hard, I'm afraid I'll push him away."
"I know that feeling," Carter assured her. He finished his coffee. "Can he have visitors upstairs?"
"Yeah. He's extubated, doing much better. They'll probably be moving him out of the ICU tomorrow. I'm sure he'll be thrilled to see you."
--------
Carter stood outside the glass. Luka appeared to be asleep. An oxygen mask covered the lower part of his face. The part Carter could see was rather pale. The monitors showed a rapid pulse and an oxygen level that still seemed a little low considering the mask. He looked, Carter thought, somewhat better than he had when he'd said good-bye in Kisangani, but this wasn't what he'd expected to find. Not what he'd expected at all.
The ICU nurse approached him. "Hello Dr. Carter," and he recognized her. She'd worked in the ER briefly a few years before. "You can go in if you like."
"I wouldn't want to wake him."
"I'm sure he won't mind. He doesn't get a lot of visitors."
So Carter opened the door and went in, and Luka stirred; opened his eyes.
"Hey, Luka," Carter said softly. "Didn't mean to wake you."
"Wasn't sleeping," Luka said. He looked confused for a moment, then a smile lit his face. He moved the mask from his mouth so he could talk more easily. "When did you get back?"
"A few days ago. When you get home you'll find a bunch of messages on your machine." Carter took the mask and started to replace it. "You should keep that on," but Luka shook his head.
"Don't really need it. Just wear it to make them happy." Clearly a lie. Every word was a little more breathless than the one before, and his sats dropped a few points on the monitor. He didn't object when Carter firmly replaced it. A few breaths from the mask, then, "Home for good?"
"Don't know yet. I'll have to see how it goes. Kisangani's wonderful, but civilization has its perks."
"When I get out of here, I'll have to walk for you. I do it pretty good now."
"I'll be looking forward to seeing it," Carter said with a smile.
"Two legs, both mine. One crutch."
Carter could only smile again. At least Luka had gotten the two things he'd wanted most, to keep his leg, and to walk again. But God ... why this? Hadn't he been through enough?
"So," he said after a minute. "I guess the leg works well enough for some nice slow dancing with Susan?"
"Did she tell you that?" Luka's eyes were suddenly troubled.
"No. She said you've been spending a lot of time together. I assumed..."
"We're not ... a couple. It's complicated."
"Women usually are, right?" Carter spoke lightly, and Luka smiled a little. "Ok," Carter went on. "You're tired. I'd better let you rest. I'll be around for at least a couple of months; we'll have lots of time to talk, catch up, when you're feeling better."
Luka nodded, closed his eyes. Carter clasped his hand briefly, and turned to go, but Luka said, "Carter."
"Yeah?"
"I never thanked you ... for saving my life."
"Yes, you did."
"No."
"Luka, you are alive. You are walking. That's all the thanks I need. Now you just keep fighting. You stay alive. Don't let it be for nothing."
