Okay, I'm not a doctor, so I don't exactly know how hospitals work, but if you have a major problem with anything, just tell me, and maybe I'll fix it. I also have never been in a hospital as a patient (thank God) so maybe I have my facts wrong.
Thank you to Beth Pryor whose nitpicking is highly valued! And I'm not being sarcastic. I've only seen about 10 episodes of Joan before they cancelled it, so any pickups are greatly appreciated. Also, I have no idea what baseball shoes look like, even though I play softball, which I think is almost the same (I'm not very good…), so it's good to learn these little facts!
Remember, reviews are always welcome!
DISCLAIMER: I own no Joan of Arcadia characters or related items, please don't sue!
My shift was almost over. I could depart in ten minutes, and leave the wards of St. Alfred Private Hospital, and go home and relax in front of the fire with a hot bowl of soup. I was really looking forward to that.
But I still had one last case for the day. It was going to take at least an hour and I couldn't leave until it was done. At university, many of the pupils joked about how bad the hours were at Alfred's but I never believed them to be true. 50 hour days, followed by just twelve hours rest. I guess that would be a bad day, but it still wasn't good on a good day.
I wandered into room 2516. I was visiting Kevin Girardi, MVA victim, multiple back and leg wounds, possible paraplegia. He had only just some out of a coma, and a nurse had just paged me about half an hour ago. It was one of those scenarios you had to attend to ASAP. No hot soup for me until it was done.
I entered the room and saw the boy's mother and father with him. I shooed them out. Often parents were a hindrance in these types of cases. They went outside to see their other children.
I walked over to Kevin. "Hello Kevin. I'm Dr. Witkowski. Do you know where you are?"
"Hospital," he managed to mutter.
"Good, good. And what's your date of birth?"
"15th June, 1984,"
"Excellent, now do you know why you're here?"
Kevin looked at me, and quietly said "No,"
"Okay Kevin, you and friend were in a car accident on Saturday night. You were injured so you were brought here. It is now Monday, by the way,"
Kevin shut his eyes and murmured something. What? I'll never know.
"Okay Kevin, we're going to run through some tests. You just answer my questions as best you can. Just say if I hurt you,"
Kevin gave a noise of agreement, so we proceeded with our exam.
"Okay, can you feel me squeezing my hand?"
"Yes,"
"Can you feel this?" I asked as I tapped his chest.
"Yep,"
"What about this?"
"Yep,"
"And this?"
Silence. "Kevin, can you feel this?" I asked again, tapping his tummy.
"No," he whispered.
I worked my way down his tummy and onto his leg. He was showing no sign of feeling or movement from his waist down. It was kind of what I was expecting, but certainly not hoping.
Finally I got to his toes. One of he main signs of paraplegia is toes which do not have a normal reflex reaction when the base of the foot is tapped. Alas, there was no reflex. All the tests that we had done so far had come to the same conclusion; paraplegia. Now it was my job to tell this family that their son's and brother's life had changed forever. Yay.
I called in the parents and other children, all of whom immediately gravitated towards Kevin. I told them to settle down. The ICU usually only allowed 2 guests at a time, maximum, so I was making an exception.
"Okay, I have come to a conclusion based on all the tests we have done so far. As you know, Kevin received a head wound, which as you can see, is healing just fine, no permanent damage there. Umm, he has some fairly severe bruising around the shins and calves, but once again, that should just heal over. Err, the most concerning injury was the spinal damage received in the accident.
I put up some x-rays for the family to see.
"Kevin received three fractures in various places of the spine, here, here and her," I said pointing. "Unfortunately, I believe this second fracture may have damaged the spinal cord. One of our x-rays revealed that the cord isn't completely severed; however, it has been badly damaged. It appears Kevin has lost all sensation from this fracture down," I said as gently as I could.
The family looked at me horrified. I looked down at Kevin, whose face was impassive.
"Well, there must be something you can do?" asked Mr. Girardi.
"I'm afraid we have done as much as we can to preserve the cord. When he was brought in, we immediately did as much as we could to relieve the pressure from his back."
Kevin finally piped up in a wavering, soft voice, "Will I ever play baseball again?"
Oh man. I hate this part. "From what we have seen so far, your chances of walking again are slim. Not impossible, but slim."
The room was silent. I didn't know if anyone was breathing.
"So our course of action is to first of all, allow Kevin's injuries to settle, and then we'll start a comprehensive physiotherapy schedule. We'll be able to transfer him to a normal room tomorrow, I believe. Umm, do you have any questions?"
The family sat in silence.
"Okay, if you have any questions later, just ask a nurse for me, and I'll be along as soon as I can,"
"Thank you doctor," said Mrs. Girardi.
I see these kinds of cases every second day. But this one was different. He hadn't just lost his legs; from my point of view, Kevin Girardi had just lost a big part of himself.
