Why did it take Lee so much longer than Bill to recover? And why was Lee not more excited about his promotion?
Maybe Lee had complications...
(In other words, the author hurts Lee some more. )
and as for Lee/Dee - (with apologies to Dr. Suess...)
I do not like them
in the rain
I do not like them
on a plane
I do not like them
in an attack
I do not like them
in Lee's rack
I do not like
to see them play
but she's in my story anyway.
Sorry.
Apparently what I think happened and what I wish happened are slightly different. Who knew!
2 1/2 weeks have passed since the events of the episode.
"I don't understand, I was shot twice and was back on duty in less than two weeks!"
"You shouldn't have been," Dr. Cottle told the Admiral dourly, "But the fleet was going straight to hell. If I didn't release you, Tigh was going to finish what the Cylons started." Adama's glare stopped Cottle from elaborating further on his opinions of Tigh's command abilities. The cantankerous doctor wasn't about to apologize for speaking the truth, but he took the hint to change the subject. "Don't worry. The wound is healing nicely. He's stable. I'll let him out of here in another day or two. He'll likely be fit for duty in a week or so. Not for flying vipers of course, but he can fly a desk." Neither man smiled at the tired joke, realizing that Lee hadn't flown a viper for quite some time now. He had never been recertified for combat since his accident in the blackbird. Adama was hoping his son would soon be back in the cockpit and he could put all this behind him.
Satisfied with the update from the doctor, he headed over to visit with Lee.
Lee was awake, but looking bored as he stared up at the ceiling. He smiled tightly as he noticed his father approach.
"Hey," Adama spoke first, smiling back at his son. "Cottle says maybe you'll be out of here by the end of the week."
"Great," Lee responded unenthusiastically. Bill wondered at that but dismissed it as boredom, or perhaps frustration at knowing he wouldn't be returning to full duty that soon. He pulled over a chair and sat down. "What do you think about the plan to start using Pegasus as the base for our nugget training instead of Galactica?
"What?" Lee's listlessness was gone.
"Didn't Kara tell you?" Bill was confused that Lee didn't already know about this.
It took a moment for Lee to reply. "Kara hasn't been here," he finally said. Lee hoped he'd sounded nonchalant when he said it.
"Well, I guess she got busy and got distracted. I'm sure she meant to run it by you."
Lee realized his father thought he'd meant Kara hadn't been there today, not that she hadn't come at all.
Suddenly he gasped and sat up, clutching his chest.
"Lee? Lee! What's wrong?" Bill jumped to his feet and put a hand on his son's shoulder.
Lee was completely taken off guard by the abrupt onset of stabbing pain. It radiated all the way through to his back and down his arm. He struggled to answer his father. "Can't…breathe…"
Bill looked around frantically for Dr. Cottle, a nurse, anyone. "Hey! HEY! I need some help over here!"
A nurse materialized from behind a nearby curtain and came rushing over brandishing her stethoscope when she saw the captain's condition. Bill had his arms around his son's shoulders, supporting him from behind as he leaned forward, struggling to breathe.
"He's not moving any air in the right upper lobe," the nurse announced after listening to Lee's chest. "Help me get his gown off, we need to get him back on the monitor." While Bill fumbled with the gown's ties, the nurse turned on the O2 and secured it on Lee's face. By this time Bill had managed to get the gown undone and the nurse practically ripped it off and quickly stuck the monitor leads on his chest.
"What's wrong with my son?" Adama demanded.
"I think he has a collapsed lung, but the doctor will have to say for sure." She then ran off, calling for Dr. Cottle.
It was rare for Admiral Adama to find himself in a situation where he did not feel in control, but this was one of those times. He tightened his hold on his son as he tried to understand how things could have changed so quickly. Within moments the nurse reappeared, Dr. Cottle right behind her. He didn't even bother speaking but immediately placed his stethoscope on Lee's chest. Adama watched intently as the doctor examined his son.
Cottle finally straightened and turned to the nurse. "Get a chest x-ray, AP and lateral, and an ABG. Then bring me a chest tube tray and a local anesthetic." The nurse hurried off and the doctor turned his attention to the worried man at the bedside. "Admiral, you need to wait outside."
"Like hell!" Adama channeled his fear into anger. "Now tell me what's going on!"
Cottle raised his eyebrows at Adama's refusal to leave. Quickly gauging the man's determination he decided it wasn't a battle he would win easily. Having security drag the Admiral from sick bay wouldn't go over well. Aside from that, he didn't have time for it. "I need the test results to make a firm diagnosis, but I believe a portion of his right lung has collapsed."
"How is that possible? He was just lying here!" Adama couldn't comprehend how Lee's condition could have changed so quickly without any provocation.
"It's called a spontaneous pneumothorax, and it just happens. That's why it's called spontaneous. Look Admiral, we'll have to do the physiology lesson later. If you intend to stay here you need to keep out of the way." The doctor indicated the tech that had arrived with the portable x-ray machine.
Bill realized he was going to have to move, but didn't have to like it. He leaned in close and whispered, "I'm not leaving, son, I'm right here. They just need to take some x-rays." Lee managed to nod slightly, then Bill reluctantly released Lee and stepped over to stand beside the doctor.
"Why aren't you giving him anything for pain?" Adama demanded as he watched the tech position his son.
"Because emergency intubation isn't my idea of a good time," Cottle replied pointedly, not bothering to look at Adama but keeping his attention rapt on his patient and the monitor display. "Listen Admiral, I don't hang around CIC during Cylon attacks asking a bunch of damn fool questions about your battle strategy. I appreciate that you're worried but you have got to back off and let us do our jobs. I know he's in pain but until I know exactly what we're dealing with, I can't risk medicating him."
Adama swallowed hard and realized Cottle was right. He wouldn't want anything to put his son at risk. The doctor had chosen a metaphor that made his point well. He vowed silently that he would not interfere with anything the medical staff was doing and would wait until Lee was okay to ask any more questions.
As soon as the x-rays were done, Bill moved back to his position supporting Lee from behind. Lee was again hunched over clutching his chest in pain. Bill covered Lee's hands with his own and held him close. Bill experienced an odd moment of déjà vu and wondered why. Then he remembered that Lee had held him like this when they were on Kobol. He pressed his cheek against his son's hair, part of him savoring this rare physical closeness with Lee despite his overwhelming fear. He heard Cottle say he was going to read the x-rays and would be right back. Then the nurse was there, saying she needed blood.
Lee distractedly extended his arm to her, not changing his position otherwise. He heard her explaining something about taking blood from an artery in his wrist but he wasn't really listening. He was concentrating on breathing. She felt for his radial pulse and swabbed the area.
"It's going to hurt, Lee," Adama whispered. Lee was puzzled by his father's warning. It was just a blood test. Most of the staff were pretty good; he barely felt anything when they slipped the needle into his vein. Curiosity got the better of him and he turned his head just in time to see the nurse plunge the needle straight into his wrist. Okay, yeah, that hurt.
Lee paled and sagged back against his father, a bit unnerved at seeing the syringe fill by itself from arterial pressure.
"Maybe watching wasn't the best idea, son."
Lee silently agreed and pressed his cheek back against his father's chest.
In a moment, Cottle was back with another nurse. She started arranging supplies on the nearby table while the doctor took the opportunity to talk to Lee. "Captain, you do have a collapsed lung, but don't worry, we'll fix you up. You'll be as good as new in a few days. I'm going to put a tube in your chest so the lung can re-inflate." As he spoke, he tapped the point where he would insert the tube. "How bad's the pain on a scale of one to ten?"
"Seven...maybe eight," Lee gasped.
Cottle nodded, having expected that. "I can't risk giving you anything too strong right now, but I'll see if we can take the edge off." He turned to the nurse and gave orders for a small dose of pain medication and a mild sedative.
"Bill, it's time for you to go."
"I already told you I'm not leaving." Adama's tone and expression left no room for argument.
Cottle rolled his eyes and muttered something to himself that Adama didn't quite catch. Then he sighed and looked Adama in the eye. "Fine. But if you pass out over there don't expect us to stop everything to pick you up off the floor."
"Don't worry about me. You just take care of my son."
"You do realize that you'll have to move?"
Adama was still sitting on the bed behind Lee, holding him close. He carefully got up, keeping one arm around his son's shoulders for support. The nurse raised the head of the bed so it was at a 60 degree angle and then helped Bill gently ease Lee back against the pillow and positioned him with his right arm above his head.
Dr. Cottle started placing sterile drapes across Lee's chest while the nurse injected the drugs she'd brought. Lee had lost the battle with the doctor about removing his IV the day before. He didn't need fluids but still had the catheter for access. The nurse was glad she hadn't had to start a new one along with everything else. She presumed Lee was too, although it was unlikely he realized it at the moment.
"This will feel cold," Cottle warned before he cleaned the intended site of insertion with a sterilizing solution.
Bill hovered close to the bedside, holding Lee's left hand.
"Where's that local anesthetic?"
The nurse placed the syringe into Cottle's outstretched hand. "All right. I'm going to numb the area now. It's going to sting for a bit."
Lee thought he was prepared, but he still flinched when Cottle started. The area was sensitive anyway, and it didn't help that it was so close to the gunshot wound which was still pretty sore. Also, he'd expected a couple of quick injections, like when he'd needed stitches. This was lasting for longer than he'd anticipated. He shifted his eyes so he could see what was taking so long. He gasped softly when he saw the doctor had a 20cc syringe. He kept repositioning the needle deeper and injecting more. No wonder it hurt.
Cottle noticed his patient watching him. He knew this was painful. Not as painful as not doing it would be, though. "Look over towards your Dad. You're breathing on my sterile field." Cottle still sounded gruff despite his underlying compassion. "Bill, you insisted on being here. Make yourself useful. Talk to him. Sing to him for all I care. Get him to think about something else."
Lee couldn't remember if he'd ever heard his father sing. He was feeling a little lightheaded from the drugs so that idea was enough to suddenly produce a mental image of his dad singing and dancing like a performer in a cabaret. Complete with a flamboyant costume. He now found himself in the peculiar situation of simultaneously trying not to laugh and trying not to cry out in pain. The drugs made it harder to control his emotions so he ended up making a sound that was somewhere between a chuckle and a cough.
"Hey, what's so funny? I can sing!" Adama pretended to be insulted, inwardly grateful for Cottle's help. He still was at a loss of how to comfort his son with words.
"I don't…think so…Dad," Lee somehow managed to smirk and grimace at the same time.
"I hope you're not going to try to prove him wrong," Cottle said sternly. "I was being facetious. I do care if you sing." He laid the empty syringe aside. "It's a moot point now anyway. I'm all done with this part."
He waited a few moments for the medication to work then held out his hand to the nurse again. "Scalpel."
The doctor lightly pressed the tip of the blade to Lee's skin. "Can you feel this?"
"Feel what?"
Lee's answer was exactly what the doctor wanted to hear. The anesthesia had taken effect. "I'm going to make a small incision now. Don't worry. You won't feel a thing."
Adama swallowed hard and gripped his son's hand a little tighter. Cottle was really going to cut into Lee's chest? Having learned his lesson previously, he carefully avoided looking in that direction. He patted Lee's shoulder. "Close your eyes and try to relax." He decided to try his hand at some comforting words. He wasn't sure if they were for Lee or for himself.
"Is that…an order?" Lee smiled wanly.
"A direct order, Captain."
"Aye, sir," Lee whispered and closed his eyes. He could tell Cottle was touching him, but didn't experience any discomfort. It took a few moments to incise the skin, the underlying tissue and the layer of muscle beneath that. Cottle thought to himself that it was ironic that the young man's excellent physical condition would actually make this more painful. It would be hard to force the tube through the well-toned muscle.
"Lee?" Cottle uncharacteristically used his patient's first name.
"Huh?" Lee mumbled, without opening his eyes.
"I'm going to put the tube in now. You're going to feel some pain. Don't move. You can yell, curse, you can even call me names, but do not move."
The nurse had placed her hands on Lee's right shoulder and wrist, and with a look at Adama let him know that he was responsible for holding Lee's left side in place.
Seeing everyone was ready, Cottle thrust the tube through the incision into the pleural space. He felt it pop as it entered the pleura.
Lee felt it too.
He stifled a gasp and blinked back tears. He hadn't felt any pain during the procedure since the local had been administered and wasn't expecting it to hurt that much. Firm hands kept him from jerking away.
"This is the worst part, Lee. I know it hurts, but you've got to hold still." He continued advancing the tube.
"Ahhhh, Frak!" Lee finally lost his battle to remain silent. "Sorry," he immediately apologized for his profanity.
"Don't be sorry. I've heard much worse," the nurse assured him. "This sounds silly, but it will hurt less if you yell."
Lee found the idea of screaming at the top of his voice strangely appealing at the moment, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He forced himself to lie motionless and didn't cry out again, but squeezed his father's hand with enough pressure that the Admiral wondered if he'd have a bruise.
"All right, son, it's in," Cottle announced. "You can relax now." He deftly sutured the tube in place and the nurse assisted him in covering it with a dressing.
"You're okay, Lee. It's over." Bill wished he could gather his son into his arms, but he was afraid that would cause him pain. He settled for stroking Lee's dark hair back from his forehead. Lee was pale and still, breathing hard but no longer struggling to breathe. Bill leaned over and lightly kissed his son's brow. "I love you, son," he whispered. Lee didn't have the strength to answer but he managed a small smile and squeezed his father's hand.
Kara Thrace had been very busy for the last two and a half weeks, doing her own job plus filling in as temporary CAG. She told herself that she hadn't been to sick bay to visit Lee because she just hadn't had time. She wondered how there was any paper left in the fleet. She was sure she had written a report on every last scrap. Of course, she would go to visit Lee as soon as she had a free moment. This is what she'd been telling herself every day since it happened. It. The accident. The shooting. The hostage crisis. Whatever anyone wanted to call it. Her screw-up. She had tried to visit Lee immediately after he came out of surgery, but had been taken aback to find Dee sitting at Lee's bedside already, waiting for him to wake up. She felt she would be intruding if she stayed, so she had left quietly before anyone even knew she was there.
She finally admitted to herself that she was scared to see Lee. Scared and ashamed, both to see what she'd done to him and to find out if he hated her for it. At last she convinced herself that Starbuck didn't run from anything. She would go and see Lee, tell him how sorry she was, and take it from there. She couldn't risk Dee being there, though. She had to talk to Lee alone. She had just delivered the next week's CAP schedule to Colonel Tigh in CIC and she'd noticed Dee on duty. The shift wouldn't change for several hours. This would be the perfect time. She could do this. She had to do this.
Kara kept up a silent monologue with herself as she walked through the corridors towards sick bay. Lee would be there for me. I should be there for him. Of course, Lee wouldn't have shot me. But he knows it was an accident. Of course he knows that. He doesn't blame me. I'm sure he doesn't. And he doesn't hate me. Hell, if he doesn't hate me for Zak he wouldn't hate me for this. Would he?"
Kara's pace became more and more tentative as she neared her destination. Finally she reached sick bay and ventured to peep between the curtains which were drawn around Lee's bed. She paled as she saw a nurse and the Admiral holding Lee down while Cottle did something to him that must hurt like hell because he was cursing. She almost forgot to breathe when she heard him cry out in pain. She'd expected him to be nearly recovered by now. She was appalled by the scene before her. She quickly let the small gap in the curtains close and turned her back to them, trying to get her bearings. Lee was still this sick? In this much pain? Gods, how could he stand the sight of her? How could she have done this to him? She knew that she could not face him now. She crept out of sick bay wondering what thing of value she possessed that she could trade to the Chief for some of that stuff the deck crew concocted in their makeshift still.
Lee's respiratory status had improved considerably, and Cottle finally felt comfortable giving him a full dose of pain medication. He was now sleeping. Bill was relieved that his son seemed stable now, but also felt like screaming in frustration. He'd come here thinking Lee was just days away from being released and now here he was heavily medicated, on oxygen, and with a tube the size of a garden hose stuck in his chest. He felt like Lee was back to square one.
"Come to my office. You look like you could use a drink." Cottle plied the worried man away from his son's bedside. "He'll sleep for hours now. Come on."
Adama reluctantly followed the doctor, glancing back at Lee a couple of times as he went.
When they entered the doctor's small office, Cottle poured them both a cup of coffee. Not quite the type drink he'd prefer but he was on duty and the Admiral was due in CIC soon. If they couldn't have alcohol, they would make do with caffeine.
"Sit. Drink."
Cottle was not a verbose man, Adama thought wryly.
"You've got questions. Let's hear them."
The doctor was right. Bill had questions. He had lots of them, or at least he did earlier. He realized now that he didn't really want to know all the technical medical details about what had happened. It seemed too macabre to listen to the doctor recount a "physiology lesson" as he'd put it, with his son as the focus. There was only one question on his mind now. "Will he be all right?"
"He should be fine. These things usually resolve in a few days. When the lung is back to normal we'll take the tube out and he should be ready for discharge a few days after that. It will mean he'll have to take physical therapy a bit slower, though."
Bill nodded as he processed this information.
"He should be off the oxygen by tomorrow and he can even try walking around if he feels up to it. Of course a nurse will have to help him manage the chest tube but it won't keep him confined to bed."
Adama presumed Lee would be relieved at that. He'd only just started being able to walk unaided and doing some basic exercises with the therapist in sick bay. It was good to know he'd be able to resume that soon. He knew his son wanted to get back in the gym, although Bill knew from personal experience it would take time for him to get back to his full strength. He stood and downed the remainder of the coffee.
"Bill, there's something else. He will recover as I said, but there is a chance that this could happen again in the future. It won't be a problem if he gets to sick bay right away, but left untreated for a time it could cause the organs in his chest to shift, resulting in cardiac arrest. One thing that could trigger it is flying in an unpressurized aircraft." Cottle waited a moment for his words to sink in. He knew the message had gotten across when he saw Adama's eyes widen in horror.
"Y..You mean…he can't…he can't fly?" Bill stammered.
"Not a viper." Cottle confirmed. "Not anymore."
"For how long?" Adama demanded.
Cottle took a deep breath and looked the worried father in the eye. "Admiral, it's very unlikely he'll ever be medically cleared to fly vipers again. Ever," he repeated for emphasis. He didn't need to elaborate on what might happen if Lee's lung were to collapse while he was in combat.
Adama turned away in grief and shock. "Not ever? What's he supposed to do now?" he muttered.
Cottle recognized that it was a rhetorical question, but he chose to answer anyway. "Promote him. All you flyboys get promoted out of the cockpit eventually anyway." He ignored the glare that statement provoked and continued. "I'm sure there's enough administrative work around to keep him occupied. Integrating the squadrons, managing the viper foundry, overseeing pilot training…"
"I get the idea." Adama interrupted him. He stood silently for a moment, thinking. "Don't tell him," he said suddenly. Seeing the doctor's expression he amended, "Not yet. Just give me a few days to iron out the job description for a new position, requiring the rank of major."
"All right then," Dr. Cottle agreed. "I'll give him a few days. He should be more stable medically before he gets that kind of news anyway. But he should hear it from me," Cottle stated resolutely.
Adama nodded, realizing the doctor was right. He doubted Lee would take it well. Adama wasn't afraid to be the one to tell his son, but he knew if he did he'd never be able to cut through Lee's anger to try to help him cope with it. It was only appropriate that the doctor deliver such a prognosis anyway. He would get to give Lee the good news. Lee was a fine officer. He deserved a promotion. He'd make an excellent major. Pleased with this decision, despite still feeling a profound sense of loss on his son's behalf, he turned to go.
Checking again to see that his son was still sleeping, Bill reluctantly left sick bay and headed for CIC. On his way there, he met Chief Petty Officer Dualla in the corridor. He suddenly realized where she was going and stopped to talk to her. She saluted and started to continue on her way.
"Dee."
She stopped. "Sir?"
Adama glanced up and down the corridor to confirm that they were alone. "I need to talk to you. It's about Lee."
The young woman froze inside, stood at attention and put on a false smile. "Captain Adama and I are just friends, Sir."
"I see." Adama hadn't considered that she would think he disapproved. "Well. I can't think of anyone I'd rather see him be…friends…with." He smiled at her.
"Sir?" Did the Admiral just tell her he didn't mind that she and Lee were together?
"You're not directly under his command. And things are a little different now that the world's ended, don't you think?"
"Yes, Sir." She remained at attention.
"That's not why I wanted to talk to you."
"Oh?" Dee had no idea what the Admiral was getting at.
Adama found it hard to say the next words. "At ease," he began. "Lee…um…" he trailed off, suddenly unsure of how to tell her. Taking a deep breath, he found his resolve. "This morning, Lee's lung collapsed."
Dee's hand flew to her mouth, but Adama continued.
"He's doing better now, but he's still pretty sick. He has a tube in his chest and he's back on oxygen. I thought you should know. Before you saw him, I mean."
Dee paled as she processed this information. She nodded. She was going to ask if he was sure Lee would be all right, but then she realized he wouldn't have left sick bay if he weren't. "Thank you, Sir."
She made her way to sick bay and quietly entered Lee's curtained-off area. She took a moment to compose herself before she went closer. She silently thanked the Admiral for his warning, as she was shocked even having been prepared. She hated to think how she would have reacted if she had not been. When she had seen Lee last, he was sitting up and joking around with her. Now he looked so ill. A nurse was there checking his vital signs. When he moved away, the young petty officer took his place at Lee's side. He smiled at Dee as he left. "Don't worry, it's not as bad as it looks. He's stable now. He'll be fine in a couple of days." Dee had been a fixture in sick bay and most of the staff were aware of her feelings for the CAG.
Dee sat in the chair beside Lee's bed and watched him sleep. She closed her eyes and bowed her head.
Lords of Kobol, hear my prayer she prayed silently. Please grant healing to this man, Lee Adama. Please watch over him and give him strength. We need him. I need him. So say we all.
When she raised her head, she found a pair of blue eyes staring up at her. "Hey," he said weakly.
"Hey, yourself. I see you got bored and decided to cause some excitement around here."
"Yeah, that's me. Mr. Excitement." He rolled his eyes. "I'll take boredom over this any day."
Dee reached over and took his hand. "Can I get you anything?"
Lee shook his head. "Just tell me what's new. Besides this." He gestured vaguely at his newly acquired medical tubes.
Dee began recounting the events of her shift and Lee drifted off listening to her voice. She stopped talking when she realized he was asleep but she sat watching him for some time. "I won't let you go, Lee," she whispered. "I told you before, you have to stay."