My gratitude to all those who have reviewed my efforts, especially to the real (anonymous) "Dr. Kyle Anthony"who helped me work out all of the addiction details. I wish all doctors were like you!
To Jan in VA, I hope this helps answer your questions!
Chapter 11JULIE was angrier than she had ever been in her life. And she had been a very angry child. She made her way to the mountain shelter she and Rob had put together a while ago, to hide out in when the heat was on. It was like a bomb shelter built into the side of the mountain. They had just taken what nature had in place and tweeked it a bit. Julie was certain it had been home to countless bear generations and probably even a pioneer or two. The skeletal remains of a few small animals were scattered about when they first discovered the cave. Julie had wanted to get rid of them, but Rob, he like them. He had said that he liked to think about how they had died. He got down and showed her how some of the bones bore gnaw marks and were scattered around. "Torn off as a cat gorged on the helpless creature's muscles." She could remember how his eyes glittered as he showed her how cruel nature could be.
She had always been fascinated with the darker, more sinister side of life, but she had not known how wonderful it could be until Rob. He was an artist. A sadistic artist who could make her feel the euphoria of the hunt, the satisfaction of running the prey to exhaustion, and finally the sheer ecstasy of the kill. It was as if she had been only to see in shades of gray, and Rob had helped her to see in color, like those new televisions. Nothing was ever as satisfying as when she was with Rob. He was the pinnacle.
And to be brought down at the moment of triumph, when he had both of the cops together and at his mercy, brought down by the betrayal of her little sister! It was the cruelest moment of her life. Julie had hated Michele ever since she was born. Her mother had remarried a good, kindhearted soul and they had whelped a good, kindhearted kid. She had hoped Rob would have been able to teach her more about real life, life on the edge, but the baby ran. Michele was not a real woman.
Julie raged against them all. But she had learned one important element from Rob as she grew older. Control. It is what gave her an edge. It is what separated her from the weak. It kept her going now.
She cautiously felt her way into the shelter, making certain she had closed the camouflaged door completely before slipping around the dark curtain they had hung and finally lighting the lantern. She did not want any light seeping around the edges of the door. It would alert someone to her presence. She and Rob had stashed enough food and water to survive in comfort for a couple of months, and to just survive for a year if necessary. Julie could wait out the search that she knew would be going on for her in relative comfort. But now she was alone. Rob would not be coming back. Julie would not cry, but she would rage. Silently, as Rob had taught her. It brought her power. And she would plan. She knew what Rob had in store for Hutchinson. They had Starsky hooked and dependent and they had been ready to return him to watch him suffer with his partner, powerless to help him without the drugs. They had been so close. It could not end this way. Not while she was living. She would make sure that all of them paid for the terrible injustice they had brought on Rob. He would be avenged.
Hutch had tried to get the coffee down Starsky, but none of it was staying. He knew the stimulant effect of the caffeine would be good to counteract the depressant effects of the heroin, but again, was that all they gave him? Hutch was worried and knew he needed help. Starsky was still fighting, but his efforts were weak and lacked coordination. Hutch's jaw was grateful for the break, it was still sore from where Starsky had kicked him, but he felt Starsky's continued weakness did not seem good.
He put in a call to Captain Dobey who again referred him to Dr. Anthony. When Hutch reminded him that Starsky would not want any record of this, Dobey told him that he was calling in a favor and that Hutch should make the call.
From what he had heard, Dr. Anthony was a good doctor as far as doctors went. Hutch was inclined to mistrust them all, but Dobey seemed to trust him. While Starsky once again dry heaved in the bathroom, Hutch reluctantly placed the call. Dr. Anthony was with a patient, and Hutch had to wait about 5 minutes before the nurse came back on the line to tell Hutch she was forwarding the call. Hutch was ready to scream.
"This is Dr. Anthony. Detective Hutchinson?"
"Yeah."
"Captain Dobey called me and told me to expect your call. How's your friend."
Exhausted, Hutch could only focus on his surprise. "Captain Dobey called you? Why?"
"Captain Dobey helped my family a long time ago when my daughter was kidnapped. You did not answer my question. How's your friend?"
Hutch proceeded to tell him what was going on and answered the doc's questions as best he could. He was shocked when the doctor asked him how to get to his apartment.
"I thought doctors didn't make house calls anymore."
"They don't, not when they are seeing their patients in the office. But when I am visiting a sick friend, I don't keep records. I've had my nurse clear a couple of hours for me."
"I see." Relieved, Hutch explained how the doc could find him.
He hung up the phone wondering how Dobey had managed to talk the doctor into unofficially taking care of Starsky. At this point he did not care. He just needed the help and he was grateful to Dobey. Hopefully, this guy was not a quack.
He went back into the bathroom where Starsky was curled up on the floor. The retching had stopped, but his body was trembling and he seemed to be panting. His eyes were panicky and he just looked miserable. God, is this what he had looked like when Starsky helped him? So pitiful and in so much pain. How did he do it? Looking at him was tearing Hutch's heart out so he opted for action. Swallowing his fear, he took a deep breath and got a washcloth. He wet it down with cool water. Wringing it out, he cautiously bent down next to his friend and wiped his face. Starsky closed his eyes, and Hutch thought he had relaxed a little.
"I've called a doctor. Can you believe he is going to come here to help? Neither can I. We need to get you cleaned up a little. Can you help me?" Starsky faintly nodded, but that is about all he did. At least he was not fighting Hutch's ministrations anymore. Hutch took the opportunity to clean up as much of Starsky as he could see - mainly face and hands. He tried removing Starsky's jacket, but the tremors were too strong and his muscles were like steel bands. After a while, with much effort, he was able to get him out of the bathroom and back on the couch. At least there he could see him from any part of the apartment.
There was a knock at the door, followed by a tentative, "Detective Hutchinson?"
Drawing his gun, Hutch approached the door from the side. He was very wary these days, especially with the girl on the loose. She probably was not much of a threat, women rarely were, but one never knew. Diane was a good case in point.
"Yeah?" Hutch opened the door partway.
"I'm Dr. Anthony." Said the figure from the hallway.
"Yeah, sure." Hutch said as he hastily replaced his gun in its holster. "Come in, come in." Hutch backed up to allow the doctor entrance. He rapidly assessed the man who entered the room. The doctor looked to be about fifty and stood about 5'10, thin build, dark hair sprinkled with gray, and he had hazelish eyes.
"Tell me about your friend." Dr Anthony rapidlyscanned the room and walked over to his patient. Hutch didn't know how much he could trust this man, and was uneasy about just telling him everything. He paused.
"Captain Dobey told me that Detective Starsky had a pretty harrowing two days. He emphasized the desires you guys have about records. I will do the best I can for you, but I need some information. Do you know how many times he was dosed and with what?" Without waiting, the doctor competently and with great care started to examine Starsky.
Hutch decided to trust him. He knew Starsky was in a bad way, and he needed the help. Again, by pushing aside his emotions and relying on his training, he was able to explain to the doc the events of the past two days. He related his suspicions of heroin, but the concerns that it might have been mixed with something else.
Somehow, the doctor had managed to get Starsky to relax enough to get the jacket off. He was able to work around Starsky's tee shirt. Impressed by this small feat, Hutch decided to talk frankly with the guy about his concerns over records.
"Doc, you have to make sure there are no records about Starsky being an addict."
"First off, detective…"
"Ken."
"Kyle." The doctor held out his hand and smiled. Hutch briefly shook it. "As I was saying, your friend is not an addict. He is physiologically dependent on the drugs he was given, but that is different from being psychologically dependent."
"What."
"I'll explain more later, right now we have to deal with a bigger problem. Detective Starsky here is dehydrated. Dangerously so. I suspected as much and brought some bottles of fluid with me. It will make a huge difference in the way he is feeling." He paused and looked directly at Hutch. "However, I believe there might be a problem, and I will need your help."
"What's that, doc?"
"I am going to have to start an IV. With the track marks I see on his arms I can tell they used a needle on him. He might fight us."
"Us?" Hutch said with a sinking feeling.
"Yes. I will need your help in keeping him still long enough to get a needle in. If we were in the hospital, where he belongs by the way, I would have enough staff to help. But we are not, and if you want your friend to recover, we have got to get some fluids in. This is the best way, since he is not keeping anything down by mouth."
Hutch swallowed nervously. God knows, he hated needles. He was not eager to see one inserted into his friends arm. What if Starsky thought that he was helping shoot him up?
The doctor's calm eyes assessed Hutch's nervousness. "I'm going down to get the supplies out of the car."
Hutch ran his hand through his hair, and nodded distractedly at the doc. He went over to look at his friend laid out on the couch. Starsky looked so incredibly sick. Crap. He really did not want to have to hold Starsky down, but it was the only way. He took a deep breath and decided he could face this. He'd have to. Lord, I hate needles.
Dr. Anthony returned carrying a box full of medical supplies.
"How can I help, doc." Hutch asked in a tentative voice.
"I need for you to go find a washcloth and a towel. Oh, and a sheet or a blanket." Dr. Anthony busied himself with dragging the coffee table close to the couch and began setting up his equipment.
Hutch, grateful for the chance to get away from where the doctor was working, went back into the bathroom and pulled down a fresh washcloth and a relatively clean towel. He wondered why the doc had asked for a sheet, but he went back into his room and pulled the blanket off his bed. When he returned to the main room, the doctor was quietly talking to Starsky who was lying silently. Hutch could't tell if Starsky comprehended what the doctor told him, but he was not fighting him.
"Here's the st-stuff you asked for." The slight stutter betrayed Hutch's nervousness.
"Ok, first I want you to help me get your friend covered with the blanket." The doctor helped him roll Starsky on his side, and tucked the blanket underneath him. He then brought the blanket around Starsky and, leaving only his right arm free, he tucked the blanket in firmly around his body. He indicated where Hutch was to sit near Starsky's hips and told him to talk softly to his friend. Hutch, grateful for the chance to focus on something other than what was going on, complied. Meanwhile, the doctor unplugged and dragged his reading lamp closer to the couch. Hutch decided to ignore what the doc was doing for the moment, although, he was curious.
"Hey buddy, you're going to be up and about soon. Want to go knock off some banks in Bolivia with me?"
Starsky gave the faintest of smiles, but did not open his eyes. Hutch continued talking about inconsequential things, until the doctor indicated that he was ready. Crap. Hutch did not like this at all. His heartbeat picked up and he looked at the doctor to see what he needed to do.
Dr. Anthony spoke to Hutch in a calm and confident voice. He explained that he would take care of starting the IV, Hutch's only role was to keep Starsky calm, and hold him down, if necessary.
It was not a fun procedure. Starsky reacted in fear immediately when Dr. Anthony put the tourniquet around his right arm.
"Hey, hey, it's ok. This is a doctor. He is going to help you feel better."
That may have been the wrong words, for Starsky started struggling harder. He couldn't go far though, for the blanket made it difficult for him to move. Hutch began to see the wisdom in the good doctors actions.
"Starsky. No drugs, only fluids. I'm here to help you. I will not hurt you." Dr Anthony's voice seemed to calm Starsky some.
"You will feel a little prick, and then some tape. I am going to give you some water in your veins. It will make you feel a lot better. Here we go."
The words just made Hutch more nervous, but it seemed to help Starsky. He didn't even wince when the needle went in. The doctor drew off some blood, and then placed the primed IV tubing in the catheter.
"Hand me that tape." Was all that he said, as he confidently secured the IV to Starsky's arm.
Hutch felt like he was going to faint.
"You ok?" The doctor asked. It took Hutch a second to realize the doctor was talking to him.
"Yeah, uh, yeah."
"You going to pass out on me?"
"Um, I don't think so."
"You wouldn't be the first."
"Really?"
"No, once I had to place 10 stitches in a guys scalp because he knocked his head on his wife's high heels on the way down. She was pregnant. Twins they thought. Turned out to be triplets. I'd faint too."
Hutch managed a laugh, and his color began to return to his face. Satisfied he wasn't going to be treating two patients, the doctor turned his attention to the rapidly infusing fluids – hanging from his reading lamp! Hutch stifled a laugh.
"Doc?"
"Yes."
"You said Starsky wasn't an addict. What did you mean?" This was the first time Hutch had heard anything like this. For the longest time he was convinced he was just like the junkies he pulled in off the streets. It hurt for him to look at them, for in each one's eyes he could see himself. He no longer felt the call of the drug, but he could still remember the intense rush of euphoria he had when Forest's group had shot him up.
Dr. Anthony finished what he was doing, and sat down on the coffee table across from Hutch. "There is a huge difference between addiction and being an addict."
"I don't follow."
"Bear with me. We use some strong drugs with people to combat the pain they might have, say from cancer, or a bad break or such. They need the medication to function. Just like someone with high blood pressure needs regular medication to help get it back and keep it at normal. They need the medication to treat the illness. It is not an addition.
"After some time, say as a broken leg heals, they may no longer need the stronger pain medications. However, we have to take them off of the pain medicine slowly, or they will go through withdraw symptoms. Their body is 'addicted' as people like to say, but really, their body has just formed a tolerance for the medication. Physical addiction or tolerance is much different from psychological addition. Psychological addiction is when a person mentally wants the side effects of the medication, not necessarily to treat a physical symptom.
"Heroin is just an unrefined type of morphine and the body reacts quickly to its effects. When you go through withdraw, your body is reacting to the lack of the drug. It can be hard because mentally you do not want to experience the pain. But a truly addicted person craves the effects of the drug not only for the pain, but usually for an emotional reason as well. They might not be experiencing any physical symptoms, but when stress or something difficult comes up, they will use the drug as a means of escape – a way to avoid dealing with the true problem. Generally, it just makes the problem worse, not better. But they think they feel better, and the side effects of the drug makes them able to ignore how their actions are making things worse. Make sense?"
Hutch heaved a huge sigh. It was complicated, but it did make sense. Starsky did not choose this - it was forced on him. Just asForest hadforced it on him all those years ago. He had been addicted, but he was not an addict. He was strong enough to face his problems head on without the escapism of drugs. No, he was not an addict. Neither was Starsky. Now if he could just get Starsky through the withdraw of the next forty eight hours…