Chapter 8
Steve woke up in a grumpy mood the next morning. He was feeling better and was chomping at the bit to get back home but didn't know if he dare to approach his dad or Jesse with his request, fearing a lecture on the reason he had landed in the hospital to begin with.
Mrs. Grant was fussing over him making him feel smothered and helpless. She started reproaching him about his breakfast the minute it arrived and he had turned his nose up at it. It wasn't that he didn't like the oatmeal it just wasn't what he was hungry for. He wanted a stack of pancakes dripping with syrup and butter with a side of bacon. He wanted a cup of coffee and a tall glass of orange juice. Instead he was staring at a carton of milk and a banana to go with the toast and oatmeal.
After being threatened for the fourth time about eating his breakfast Steve finally had taken all he could and began throwing a fit about the meal and the fact that he was stuck in the hospital when he was perfectly capable of looking after himself. Mrs. Grant was stern and unmovable about what she felt her patient needed.
"Are you through now? I hope you feel better. Sit up and eat your oatmeal or I will feed it to you myself!" With that she handed Steve his spoon and glared at him daring him to disobey.
Grudgingly, Steve took the spoon from her and began to pick at the warm cereal taking tiny bites and mumbling under his breath.
While he suffered through the bland tasteless food he noticed her packing up some of his things. She began to fold his robe and stack up his magazines carefully placing them into the carry all that his dad had brought some of his belongings up to the hospital in.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm getting your things packed to go. We're going home this morning and I want to be ready when you're dismissed. We still have to get you changed into clean clothes for the trip. Now finish up your oatmeal." Mrs. Grant continued her fluttering around as she continued to pack up Steve's belongings.
Steve started to eat with a little more enthusiasm now that he knew he was going to get to go home. As he took another bite it dawned on him what he had heard her tell him. "Did you say 'we' are going home? As in me and you 'we'?"
"Yes, Steven, as in me and you 'we'. Now finish up so we can get you ready." She continued to gather up little things and put them in the bag.
Steve no longer had the appetite to finish up his breakfast. The joy of going home had just plunged to absolute dread. At least at the hospital he had a call button if he felt he needed to be protected from her constant attention, and bossy methods of dealing with his needs. At home he knew that he would be left alone with her and the thought of the last time she stayed with him was still very fresh in his mind.
Mrs. Grant turned to see her patient once again picking at his oatmeal and decided that it just wasn't worth the fight that it would cause to make him eat the now cold lumpy cereal. Picking up the remainder of the, barely touched mess, she admonished him. "I don't want to hear a word come from your mouth about how hungry you are later. Can you at least drink the rest of the milk?"
Steve picked up the luke warm milk and managed to swallow it down with out uttering a single word. It wasn't an easy feat but he even managed to smile at his warden in hopes of appeasing her and avoiding any more unpleasant altercations. Not being fooled one bit by his sudden change in attitude she approached him cautiously.
"Why don't you to lay back and relax. It's bound to be another hour or so before Dr. Travis or your dad can get up here and check you out and be sure that everything is ok for you to be discharged. I'll get your clothes ready and as soon as they give us the go ahead we'll get you dressed and head home. Now won't that be fine?" She smiled down on her patient and pulled the covers up around him hoping he would take a nap so that she wouldn't have to listen to his complaining about every little thing.
Steve did lay back and he didn't complain but he didn't intend to go to sleep either. He just lay there thinking about everything that had happened to him in the last few days. If he hadn't stopped for that donut and coffee he might not be laying here right now. But deep down he knew that he would more than likely have done something that would have landed him in the hospital before it was over. He was wishing there were some way he could go home with out his private drill sergeant in tow.
The next thing Steve knew his father was shaking him. "Wake up, Steve, we need to get you in your clothes and go home." With cobwebs still in his head he obediently accepted the help offered to get him ready to leave. Once he had been deposited into the wheel chair the little party headed for the elevator. As soon as they were inside his dad started a small lecture of do's and don'ts that Steve only half listened to. He didn't feel the need to pay to close attention since he knew that Nurse "Granit" was going to be there and make sure he followed all the rules to the letter.
On the way home Steve sat in the back seat quietly listening to the conversation between his dad and his nurse. He realized that he should be grateful that he was alive to even go home, but somehow he wasn't feeling quite that generous. He knew that the next couple of weeks were going to be hard. All he could think to do was to try and cooperate as best he could in hopes that his dad would not see any need to keep the older nurse on for more than a couple of days.
Once he had been settled into the guest room Steve fell asleep exhausted from the trip home. Mark made Mrs. Grant promise to call if she had any problems or if anything came up. After reassuring the doctor that Steve was going to be fine and she was well capable of handling him she ushered Mark out the door and went about setting everything up for his bath and a light lunch. Steve slept for the next hour waking up to the smell of something good. He carefully got to his feet and, after steadying himself, he gingerly made his way to the kitchen.
When Mrs. Grant saw Steve she quickly directed him to one of the stools at the island and placed a bowl of hot vegetable soup in front of him with homemade slices of bread lightly toasted on the side. Steve's mouth watered at the sight of the food. Since he had barely touched his breakfast he had become very hungry and the smell of the soup was almost more than he could stand. He quickly took a careful sip and immediately realized he had just stepped into heaven. It was the best thing that had passed his lips in the last several days.
"You make this from scratch?" Steve knew nothing this good could have come from a can or a mix.
"I sure did and the bread too. So eat up, kiddo. You could use a little nourishment right now. I wasn't very happy about you leaving your breakfast practically untouched this morning." She didn't have to tell Steve twice as he drained his bowl and asked for more.
"I thought I had to be on a bland diet for a couple of days?" Steve said as he started on his second bowl.
"You do. But it doesn't have to taste bland. Besides your father has decided that as long as you don't judge the next chilli contest that roll's through town you can ease back into normal eating. Now don't eat that too fast or you'll make yourself sick. When you get through we'll get you bathed and into some nice clean clothes.
Steve sighed as he ate the last of the bread next to his soup. "Isn't there some other form of torture you can inflict on me besides always giving me a bath?" Steve complained.
"Well there is but this is more fun. Now stop talking and eat up." She grinned to herself as she continued to clean up the mess in the kitchen.
Once the battle of the bath had been waged and Steve had finally admitted defeat, the two adversaries sat down for a rest. Steve was still fuming over the whole bath thing when suddenly he heard his father at the front door.
"Hi, everyone. How's it going?" The smile that Mark had come in the door with soon turned to a concerned frown.
"What's the matter?" Mark suddenly had a fear that his son was being overly obnoxious and difficult. The looks that came over both Mrs. Grant and Steve's faces told the story.
"Let me guess. She wanted you to do something, you didn't want to, she won, and now you're pouting. Is that about right?" Mark wasn't smiling except in his eyes.
"I think I'll go take a nap now if you don't mind. I'm feeling very tired all of a sudden." Steve rose stiffly and made his way to the guest room leaving Mark alone to discuss his son with the very unmoving Mrs. Grant.
"I apologize if he's being difficult. He really does like you. I know he doesn't show it but he really does." Mark smiled at the older nurse as she grinned back at him.
"Oh, I think that is up for debate but it doesn't matter. He ate a good lunch for me and he just volunteered to take a nap on his own. It seems to me that so far things are working out pretty good. I am curious to why you are home early though. I didn't expect you for another two or three hours."
" I just came from the review board about the Penicillin mistake. It seems that the temp nurse was the one who made the error. She is so over worked that she just got confused about what floor she was on.
Unfortunately my son was the one who suffered for it." Mark sighed looking down the hall towards the room where Steve now lay napping.
"What did they decide to do about it?" Mrs. Grant asked.
"Well I spoke up on her behalf. I think that part of the blame should rest on the hospital's shoulders and the nursing agency that she works for. There needs to be some way that we can keep up with how many days these nurses are working and regulate how many hours they can work in a week. It's just too dangerous to them and the patients if they don't get the proper amount of time off. Anyway they aren't going to take away her license at my request. But I did ask that they put her on medical leave for a few weeks so that she can get some rest and get over being exhausted." Mark looked rather serious as he thought about the near fatal mistake and what it would have cost him.
"Do you think that they will keep a better eye on the staff they use from nursing agencies for now on?" Mrs. Grant cocked an eyebrow at Mark knowing how things tended to get forgotten once the storm blows away.
"I think so. I did suggest that we set up some kind of system where we can keep a much closer eye on the actions of the agencies and of the nurses we use from them. I think that there will be a new job opening up. I'm sure that someone will be hired for the sole purpose of keeping up with who is used and how often. Anyway it's a start." Mark got up and headed for his bedroom.
"I'm going to change and go for a quick jog down the beach and when I get back I'll help you with the next big project you have planned for my son." Mark smiled and disappeared.
Later that evening Steve, Mark, and Mrs. Grant all sat on the deck enjoying the cool evening air. Suddenly someone screamed out and Steve was on his feet in a flash. As he raced down the steps of the deck Mark yelled. "Steven Michael don't you dare."
Steve raced down the beach to where a young mother was struggling to catch a small child while holding on to a baby at the same time. The little boy was running for the ocean unaware that the strength of the surf would surely sweep him away. Steve managed to grab the youngster just at the water's edge before the surf rolled in soaking his pants up to his knees. He turned around and headed back towards the frantic mother who had one arm outstretched anxious to hold her child close and safe.
Mark and Mrs. Grant raced after Steve both very angry. "I'm going to kill that boy myself when I get my hands on him." Mark sputtered.
"You better get there before me, Doctor, because if I get there first he's all mine."
As they approached the object of their frustration, they both started in on Steve at the same time. Startled by the outburst of both father and nurse, Steve looked up to see them both rapidly bearing down on him with obvious anger all over their faces. At this point it didn't matter as he was in quite a bit of pain from the unexpected exercise.
"What were you thinking?" Mark asked with frustration.
"You could have gotten hurt."
"What are we going to do with you?" The nurse angrily asked the poor out numbered Lieutenant.
"I can't believe this. You just got home today."
"No wonder you never get a promotion. You probably don't listen to them any better than you listen to us." Again Mark aimed his frustration at his son.
"Did you not just say you would try to follow directions and do as you're told?"
"I should have known we couldn't trust you."
"You are going straight to bed as soon as we get you back to the house young man." Mrs. Grant informed her patient.
On and on the two scolded as they drug Steve back to the house one on either side. All Steve could think was 'Here we go again.'
The End.
Steve woke up in a grumpy mood the next morning. He was feeling better and was chomping at the bit to get back home but didn't know if he dare to approach his dad or Jesse with his request, fearing a lecture on the reason he had landed in the hospital to begin with.
Mrs. Grant was fussing over him making him feel smothered and helpless. She started reproaching him about his breakfast the minute it arrived and he had turned his nose up at it. It wasn't that he didn't like the oatmeal it just wasn't what he was hungry for. He wanted a stack of pancakes dripping with syrup and butter with a side of bacon. He wanted a cup of coffee and a tall glass of orange juice. Instead he was staring at a carton of milk and a banana to go with the toast and oatmeal.
After being threatened for the fourth time about eating his breakfast Steve finally had taken all he could and began throwing a fit about the meal and the fact that he was stuck in the hospital when he was perfectly capable of looking after himself. Mrs. Grant was stern and unmovable about what she felt her patient needed.
"Are you through now? I hope you feel better. Sit up and eat your oatmeal or I will feed it to you myself!" With that she handed Steve his spoon and glared at him daring him to disobey.
Grudgingly, Steve took the spoon from her and began to pick at the warm cereal taking tiny bites and mumbling under his breath.
While he suffered through the bland tasteless food he noticed her packing up some of his things. She began to fold his robe and stack up his magazines carefully placing them into the carry all that his dad had brought some of his belongings up to the hospital in.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm getting your things packed to go. We're going home this morning and I want to be ready when you're dismissed. We still have to get you changed into clean clothes for the trip. Now finish up your oatmeal." Mrs. Grant continued her fluttering around as she continued to pack up Steve's belongings.
Steve started to eat with a little more enthusiasm now that he knew he was going to get to go home. As he took another bite it dawned on him what he had heard her tell him. "Did you say 'we' are going home? As in me and you 'we'?"
"Yes, Steven, as in me and you 'we'. Now finish up so we can get you ready." She continued to gather up little things and put them in the bag.
Steve no longer had the appetite to finish up his breakfast. The joy of going home had just plunged to absolute dread. At least at the hospital he had a call button if he felt he needed to be protected from her constant attention, and bossy methods of dealing with his needs. At home he knew that he would be left alone with her and the thought of the last time she stayed with him was still very fresh in his mind.
Mrs. Grant turned to see her patient once again picking at his oatmeal and decided that it just wasn't worth the fight that it would cause to make him eat the now cold lumpy cereal. Picking up the remainder of the, barely touched mess, she admonished him. "I don't want to hear a word come from your mouth about how hungry you are later. Can you at least drink the rest of the milk?"
Steve picked up the luke warm milk and managed to swallow it down with out uttering a single word. It wasn't an easy feat but he even managed to smile at his warden in hopes of appeasing her and avoiding any more unpleasant altercations. Not being fooled one bit by his sudden change in attitude she approached him cautiously.
"Why don't you to lay back and relax. It's bound to be another hour or so before Dr. Travis or your dad can get up here and check you out and be sure that everything is ok for you to be discharged. I'll get your clothes ready and as soon as they give us the go ahead we'll get you dressed and head home. Now won't that be fine?" She smiled down on her patient and pulled the covers up around him hoping he would take a nap so that she wouldn't have to listen to his complaining about every little thing.
Steve did lay back and he didn't complain but he didn't intend to go to sleep either. He just lay there thinking about everything that had happened to him in the last few days. If he hadn't stopped for that donut and coffee he might not be laying here right now. But deep down he knew that he would more than likely have done something that would have landed him in the hospital before it was over. He was wishing there were some way he could go home with out his private drill sergeant in tow.
The next thing Steve knew his father was shaking him. "Wake up, Steve, we need to get you in your clothes and go home." With cobwebs still in his head he obediently accepted the help offered to get him ready to leave. Once he had been deposited into the wheel chair the little party headed for the elevator. As soon as they were inside his dad started a small lecture of do's and don'ts that Steve only half listened to. He didn't feel the need to pay to close attention since he knew that Nurse "Granit" was going to be there and make sure he followed all the rules to the letter.
On the way home Steve sat in the back seat quietly listening to the conversation between his dad and his nurse. He realized that he should be grateful that he was alive to even go home, but somehow he wasn't feeling quite that generous. He knew that the next couple of weeks were going to be hard. All he could think to do was to try and cooperate as best he could in hopes that his dad would not see any need to keep the older nurse on for more than a couple of days.
Once he had been settled into the guest room Steve fell asleep exhausted from the trip home. Mark made Mrs. Grant promise to call if she had any problems or if anything came up. After reassuring the doctor that Steve was going to be fine and she was well capable of handling him she ushered Mark out the door and went about setting everything up for his bath and a light lunch. Steve slept for the next hour waking up to the smell of something good. He carefully got to his feet and, after steadying himself, he gingerly made his way to the kitchen.
When Mrs. Grant saw Steve she quickly directed him to one of the stools at the island and placed a bowl of hot vegetable soup in front of him with homemade slices of bread lightly toasted on the side. Steve's mouth watered at the sight of the food. Since he had barely touched his breakfast he had become very hungry and the smell of the soup was almost more than he could stand. He quickly took a careful sip and immediately realized he had just stepped into heaven. It was the best thing that had passed his lips in the last several days.
"You make this from scratch?" Steve knew nothing this good could have come from a can or a mix.
"I sure did and the bread too. So eat up, kiddo. You could use a little nourishment right now. I wasn't very happy about you leaving your breakfast practically untouched this morning." She didn't have to tell Steve twice as he drained his bowl and asked for more.
"I thought I had to be on a bland diet for a couple of days?" Steve said as he started on his second bowl.
"You do. But it doesn't have to taste bland. Besides your father has decided that as long as you don't judge the next chilli contest that roll's through town you can ease back into normal eating. Now don't eat that too fast or you'll make yourself sick. When you get through we'll get you bathed and into some nice clean clothes.
Steve sighed as he ate the last of the bread next to his soup. "Isn't there some other form of torture you can inflict on me besides always giving me a bath?" Steve complained.
"Well there is but this is more fun. Now stop talking and eat up." She grinned to herself as she continued to clean up the mess in the kitchen.
Once the battle of the bath had been waged and Steve had finally admitted defeat, the two adversaries sat down for a rest. Steve was still fuming over the whole bath thing when suddenly he heard his father at the front door.
"Hi, everyone. How's it going?" The smile that Mark had come in the door with soon turned to a concerned frown.
"What's the matter?" Mark suddenly had a fear that his son was being overly obnoxious and difficult. The looks that came over both Mrs. Grant and Steve's faces told the story.
"Let me guess. She wanted you to do something, you didn't want to, she won, and now you're pouting. Is that about right?" Mark wasn't smiling except in his eyes.
"I think I'll go take a nap now if you don't mind. I'm feeling very tired all of a sudden." Steve rose stiffly and made his way to the guest room leaving Mark alone to discuss his son with the very unmoving Mrs. Grant.
"I apologize if he's being difficult. He really does like you. I know he doesn't show it but he really does." Mark smiled at the older nurse as she grinned back at him.
"Oh, I think that is up for debate but it doesn't matter. He ate a good lunch for me and he just volunteered to take a nap on his own. It seems to me that so far things are working out pretty good. I am curious to why you are home early though. I didn't expect you for another two or three hours."
" I just came from the review board about the Penicillin mistake. It seems that the temp nurse was the one who made the error. She is so over worked that she just got confused about what floor she was on.
Unfortunately my son was the one who suffered for it." Mark sighed looking down the hall towards the room where Steve now lay napping.
"What did they decide to do about it?" Mrs. Grant asked.
"Well I spoke up on her behalf. I think that part of the blame should rest on the hospital's shoulders and the nursing agency that she works for. There needs to be some way that we can keep up with how many days these nurses are working and regulate how many hours they can work in a week. It's just too dangerous to them and the patients if they don't get the proper amount of time off. Anyway they aren't going to take away her license at my request. But I did ask that they put her on medical leave for a few weeks so that she can get some rest and get over being exhausted." Mark looked rather serious as he thought about the near fatal mistake and what it would have cost him.
"Do you think that they will keep a better eye on the staff they use from nursing agencies for now on?" Mrs. Grant cocked an eyebrow at Mark knowing how things tended to get forgotten once the storm blows away.
"I think so. I did suggest that we set up some kind of system where we can keep a much closer eye on the actions of the agencies and of the nurses we use from them. I think that there will be a new job opening up. I'm sure that someone will be hired for the sole purpose of keeping up with who is used and how often. Anyway it's a start." Mark got up and headed for his bedroom.
"I'm going to change and go for a quick jog down the beach and when I get back I'll help you with the next big project you have planned for my son." Mark smiled and disappeared.
Later that evening Steve, Mark, and Mrs. Grant all sat on the deck enjoying the cool evening air. Suddenly someone screamed out and Steve was on his feet in a flash. As he raced down the steps of the deck Mark yelled. "Steven Michael don't you dare."
Steve raced down the beach to where a young mother was struggling to catch a small child while holding on to a baby at the same time. The little boy was running for the ocean unaware that the strength of the surf would surely sweep him away. Steve managed to grab the youngster just at the water's edge before the surf rolled in soaking his pants up to his knees. He turned around and headed back towards the frantic mother who had one arm outstretched anxious to hold her child close and safe.
Mark and Mrs. Grant raced after Steve both very angry. "I'm going to kill that boy myself when I get my hands on him." Mark sputtered.
"You better get there before me, Doctor, because if I get there first he's all mine."
As they approached the object of their frustration, they both started in on Steve at the same time. Startled by the outburst of both father and nurse, Steve looked up to see them both rapidly bearing down on him with obvious anger all over their faces. At this point it didn't matter as he was in quite a bit of pain from the unexpected exercise.
"What were you thinking?" Mark asked with frustration.
"You could have gotten hurt."
"What are we going to do with you?" The nurse angrily asked the poor out numbered Lieutenant.
"I can't believe this. You just got home today."
"No wonder you never get a promotion. You probably don't listen to them any better than you listen to us." Again Mark aimed his frustration at his son.
"Did you not just say you would try to follow directions and do as you're told?"
"I should have known we couldn't trust you."
"You are going straight to bed as soon as we get you back to the house young man." Mrs. Grant informed her patient.
On and on the two scolded as they drug Steve back to the house one on either side. All Steve could think was 'Here we go again.'
The End.