This is the seventeenth chapter of this story!
Now I'm not gonna say much for this chapter! This time, a flu epidemic strikes the 4077, with Andrew being the first one to have caught it as he's completely miserable, and it starts spreading to some of the other minor doctors and a few of the nurses. How will this go? Find out now!
AT THE M*A*S*H 4077:
Several days have passed since Andrew and Margaret became a new couple. Things were going pretty swell with them, and there were no complications of the sort. The others all agreed to allow them to stay together, and Colonel Potter agreed that they shouldn't be separated, and they should stay in this unit.
Hawkeye, as it would appear, has finally decided to accept the fact that he was wrong; wrong for butting into their business when they should have worked it out amongst themselves. After spending a whole couple of days avoiding the two, the captain had started to be around them again and had gone back to talking to the others in the compound. He was planning on talking with Andrew about it as well as apologizing for it.
But at the moment, in the Swamp, everyone had left for Sherman Potter's office. Except for Andrew, who had trouble waking up. He had overslept, and he felt like he had just been hit by a jeep. By the time he finally woke up, he felt something wrong with his head, as it felt very hot. Not only that, but he was also shivering like crazy. He also seemed very frail, as well as pale in the skin.
"Achoo!" He sneezed, feeling his nose stuffing up. "Oooohh...what happened...?"
Andrew started to stand up, which wasn't easy since he felt terrible today. Did he catch a case of the cold? Or was it something different? Whatever it was, Andrew found himself coughing, letting out a rather dry cough. He was feeling hideous, but then he realized that he overslept.
"I overslept," he muttered weakly. "I should-cough-cough-cough...get to the colonel's office-achoo...at once..."
Feeling the aches, he slowly put on his boots and his cap before he stumbled out of the tent, where he went straight for Colonel Potter's office, almost losing his balance several times. He knew that the others were waiting for him, and despite his condition, he couldn't keep them waiting. This didn't seem like a good day for him at all.
Meanwhile, in Sherman's office, the main crew was waiting for Andrew to show up. They know that Andrew was always on time, and he would never keep them waiting. If he took this long, then something must be wrong with him.
"Goodness gracious," Potter grunted. "Where in the name of horse hockey is Major Andrew Peterson?!"
Suddenly, the door to his office opened as the major himself was shown standing in front of the door.
"Right here...sir," he said in such a frail tone that got everyone looking shocked by his appearance.
"Great donkey donuts!" Sherman Potter yelped at Andrew's dizzy appearance. "What the hell happened to you?! You don't look so good."
"Indeed. You look like you just caught something dreadful," Charles commented.
"I'm sorry that I kept you waiting...sir," Andrew started coughing again before moaning. "I...I don't feel so good..."
It was then Hawkeye went over and approached the sick major along with BJ. They were about to check him for symptoms.
"Do you have a fever, son?" Potter queried.
Andrew couldn't answer that as Hawkeye pressed the backside of his hand right up against his forehead, and felt just how hot it felt.
"Yup. His head is as hot as a furnace running on a cold winter day," Pierce remarked, not hiding the joking tone that he used.
"Do you have the chills?" The colonel asked.
BJ watched as he saw Andrew shivering weakly, a sign that he did experience the chills.
"Yes Colonel, he's definitely got the chills," BJ told him, motioning to his shivering position.
"How about coughing," Klinger wondered. "Do you feel a cough coming up?"
"I...I think so, Klinger...I have this dry cough wanting to come out..." Andrew answered before letting out several dry coughs.
"I suppose your nose is stuffy too, yes?" Winchester asked him.
"As a matter of fact, it is," Andrew said with a nasal tone. "Achoo! See? I think I'm coming down with something."
"Dear Lord, this is terrible," Father Mulcahy expressed sympathy for the major. "I hope it isn't anything deadly."
"It's probably just a bad bug that has infected him," Colonel Potter exclaimed.
"I feel absolutely lousy today guys," Andrew let out a cough and then a sneeze before shivering again. "Ooooooh...I'm sorry sir...I'm sorry that I have to be sick on a day like this..."
"Don't be sorry, darling," Margaret assured him. She felt really bad for him. He was in such a lousy state that was painful for her to watch. Nonetheless, she remained strong and she was going to help her boyfriend through whatever it is he has. "Here. I'll escort you to Post-Op so you can lie down."
"I better help him too," Hawkeye insisted. "Before he gets under a fainting spell and falls on us while we bring him there."
"I'm gonna need a sample of his saliva to diagnose what it is he's got," BJ remarked. "We need to know what it is before we can treat him."
"Not to mention that if what he's got is contagious, it's likely that it'll spread all over camp," Charles pointed out.
"We'll worry about that when we know what he has," Potter insisted. "For now, Margaret! You and Pierce escort Andrew here to one of the beds in Post-Op so he can lie down. Hunnicutt, you can have him extract a sample of his cough into a bag and run a diagnosis on it."
"What can I do, sir?" Klinger wondered.
"Klinger, you go into the supply tent and see if we still have some disinfectant liquid on hand," the colonel commanded. "Chances are we might end up with an epidemic on our hands, so I need to make sure."
"Right away, sir," Klinger decided to check the supply tent as the colonel demanded.
More action will be taken once they find out what Andrew caught. At the moment, Hawkeye and Margaret helped Andrew out the door and made sure he didn't faint on them, while BJ tagged along with them.
"Guys, this really does stink," Andrew whimpered. "Everything about me stinks today. I feel horrible."
"I know honey," Margaret assured her boyfriend. "But we'll help you through this, once we know what it is you caught."
"Just try not to cough-a-doodle-doo on the way to Post-Op," Hawkeye told him.
"I'll try not to," Andrew grimaced as they brought him to Post-Op so he can lie down.
"You don't think it's serious, do you Colonel," Father Mulcahy asked once they were gone.
"Let me put it this way Padre," Potter exclaimed. "We don't need this to end up like the Spanish Flu of 1918. That was a tough time for me."
"I bet," Winchester rolled his eyes in annoyance.
The three of them stayed in that office for a bit, as they waited to see what it was that Andrew caught...
LATER, AT THE 4077...
Andrew was already put into a Post-Op bed in Post-Op thanks to Hawkeye and Margaret, and BJ had Andrew open his mouth and cough right into a plastic bag, which he did. From there, Hawkeye and BJ took the sample into the diagnosis room where they used a microscope to deduce exactly what it is that the young man caught. They were able to identify it, and they decided to report this finding to the Colonel at once.
Colonel Potter was in his office with Margaret, Klinger, Father Mulcahy, and Winchester when Hawkeye and BJ came in to give the colonel the finding that they found.
"Hey Colonel, we checked the sample of saliva that Andrew gave us," Hawkeye told him. "And we made the proper diagnosis of what it is he caught exactly."
"Well that is good news," Potter said. "What did he catch?"
"Let's just say that what Andrew just caught is a term that we like to call the 'grippe'," BJ explained.
"In other words, Andrew only has a case of influenza," Hawkeye elaborated. "Or as we should call it, the flu."
"I was afraid of this," Colonel Potter shook his head, knowing how much of a big deal this was turning out to be. "It seems that we may end up with an epidemic after all."
"We still have some antihistamine on hand, don't we?" Margaret queried.
"Yes. I found some in the supply tent when I was checking for the disinfectant liquid," Klinger answered. "We have at least a good 40 bottles full of that stuff."
"And I believe that we can use several remedies to help Andrew get better," Colonel Potter said. "In the meantime, I'm more concerned about what'll happen if one of us catches it next."
The others knew what he was getting on about. The flu is a highly contagious disease that spreads quickly. They could use the remedies as well as good disinfection of everything that Andrew has touched. But it wouldn't make it go away entirely. Suddenly, Hawkeye came up with a solution.
"Hey! I got a great idea," he suggested. "Why don't we give everyone here a flu vaccine?"
"It could help with reducing the spread of it," BJ threw in.
"Huh, that doesn't sound like a bad idea," Potter rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Then again, we don't know if everyone had already gotten the vaccine or not."
"I've already gotten the vaccine sir," Margaret admitted. "I prefer to get my flu vaccine yearly."
"Yeah. You know, I've had mine too," Hawkeye spoke up. "So I should be good against this flu outbreak."
"Same here," BJ also confessed. "I had my flu vaccine a few months ago."
"And I've gotten mine too," Potter proclaimed. "So that makes four people have gotten it already, and Andrew is in desperate need of one. That's for damn sure!"
"Uh, if you don't mind me speaking up Colonel," Father Mulcahy said. "I think I require a flu vaccine myself."
"Okay. What about you Klinger? Did you get the vaccine?" Potter asked.
"I'm afraid not sir," Klinger shook his head. "I haven't gotten it."
"I'll have to include myself in the 'I didn't' category too Colonel," Winchester proclaimed.
"Very well then. We're gonna need a shipment of flu vaccines sent here for everyone who needs it," Colonel Potter proclaimed. "Klinger, get on the horn and call I-Corps! Tell them that we are in desperate need of 4 boxes of flu vaccines, pronto!"
"I'm on it sir," Klinger wasted no time in going into his office to make the call for shipments of the vaccine.
"With that taken care of, we'll have to each play a part in who does what," Potter made the arrangement. "Margaret, I want you to go into Post-Op and help Andrew with his flu. Give him the antihistamine that he needs to take, keep him hydrated and make sure he gets plenty of rest. You already had the vaccine, so you shouldn't be in trouble. You can help your boyfriend get better and be cured of this flu!"
"I'm all over it sir," Margaret smiled. "I would have helped him with this anyway."
"Good," Potter turned to Hawkeye and BJ. "Pierce, Hunnicutt, you go with Houlihan to Post-Op in case more people catch the flu! You can check on them and make sure they are doing the proper procedures to get over this sickness."
"You can count on us sir," BJ remarked.
"Yeah. We wouldn't want everyone else to catch the grippe, now would we," Hawkeye said.
"What can I do Colonel," Father Mulcahy asked.
"Padre, you're gonna be on laundry detail," Potter exclaimed. "You'll start with Andrew's bedsheets, pillow sheets blankets, and clothes to make sure any traces of the flu have been taken care of! You will then make sure all the other bedsheets and stuff are washed thoroughly to keep this flu under control."
"I'd be more than happy to oblige, Colonel," Father Mulcahy said happily.
"Also, be sure to wear gloves. You're gonna need them to avoid catching the flu," Potter recommended.
"Not a problem at all," the Padre beamed.
"I have to wonder why you are in such a good mood about all of this," Charles groaned.
"Well Major, it's just the fact that I'm feeling useful to this outfit," Father Mulcahy admitted.
"Right," Charles rolled his eyes.
"Winchester? I've also got a job for you to do too," Potter told him.
"What in prey tell could you have for me to do?" Winchester was already dreading this.
"Simple. You're gonna be in charge of sanitizing and washing all of the medical tools used for those who will be affected by this bug," Potter said matter-of-factly.
"Me scrubbing some tools? Surely you jest," Charles huffed at that.
"Surely I'm not," Potter snorted. "We're gonna have an epidemic on our hands! And I need you to wash, scrub, sanitize and scour every single medical tool and supply that we use in this M*A*S*H unit!"
"And if I refuse?" Charles dared.
"If you refuse to obey my command Winchester, you're gonna be dealing with something far worse than the heebie-jeebies," Potter barked.
"Oh yeah? Like what?"
"My boot! As in, my boot will send you flying all the way up to the front," Potter threatened. "Or would you rather have Sophie buck you all the way to the stockade? It's your call, Winchester!"
Charles could only groan at this. Seeing that he had no way out of this one, he grudgingly accepted the command.
"I can't believe that a Winchester has to be subjected to the sanitation of medical tools," Winchester grumbled.
"You'll get over it Winchester," Potter rolled his eyes. "And as for Klinger, he'll be disinfecting all of the beds in the compound! We are all going to play our part in keeping this bug at bay. And we will keep this from becoming a pandemic. Do I make myself clear?!"
Everyone nodded, a sign that they know what needs to be done.
"Very well. Dismissed!" Potter dismissed them as they all left to do their assigned jobs.
Just then, Klinger came in with some news from I-Corps. "Sir, I just called I-Corps about needing a supply of flu vaccines! We're expecting a shipment of 4 boxes of them in a couple of days from now! Likely four days or so!"
"Well, we have enough remedies to tie us over until then," Potter exclaimed. "In the meantime Klinger, you are in charge of using the disinfectant liquids on all the beds in the compound! You will start with Andrew's bed once Father Mulcahy removes his blanket, bedsheet, and pillow sheet to scrub, and then you can work your way from there with the other beds. Comprende?"
"Loud and clear sir," Klinger obliged. "I hear you like a bell!"
Klinger then went to the supply tent to get the disinfectant bottles to use on the mattresses in the compound. Now the colonel had the plan set in motion. He only wondered if it'll pull through alright.
No matter the outcome, things were looking to be pretty hectic at the 4077...
DOWN IN POST-OP:
Andrew had already gotten himself comfortable in one of the beds, as he had his boots taken off. He felt so horrible at the moment. He had no idea what it is that he has, but it really did suck. His head felt as if a jackhammer was plowing into it repeatedly to the point where it aches. His body was shivering as if he was put into a freezer to cool off. His nose was so stuffy, he figured that it was comparable to a clogged toilet. His eyes felt all scratchy, as he had trouble trying to keep them open. And finally, he had coughs that hurt his throat since they were as dry as a martini.
I feel like I'm in hell. Andrew thought. God, I'm in bad shape. And I don't even know what I have...
Just as if faith came to his side, Hawkeye and BJ came in with a clipboard to tell Andrew the news about what he had caught for a sickness.
"We've got good news Andrew," Hawkeye started. "We ran a diagnosis and found out exactly what it is you caught."
"Really?" Andrew moaned painfully. "What do I have? Is it gonna kill me?"
"Relax Andrew, it's just a simple case of the grippe," BJ assured him.
"Let's just say that you have caught influenza or just the flu," Hawkeye added. "It's a sickness that can be spread throughout America."
"Wait-achoo...I got the flu?" Andrew sneezed and sniffled. "I'm not gonna die, am I?"
"We doubt that it'll kill you," BJ said. "As long as we help give you the proper treatment, you should feel better in no time."
"In short, we expect it to be cured in 5 to 7 days, as long as you follow the remedies provided," Hawkeye mentioned.
"Okay," Andrew started coughing again before speaking. "I still feel horrible right now..."
"We know exactly what you're going through," BJ told him. "Which is why you'll be the first to get a flu vaccine once they come in from I-Corps."
"Alright," Andrew said hoarsely.
"And if you think that's satisfying," Hawkeye added. "The head nurse is going to give you the proper remedies, and she'll be staying here with you to make sure that you get better."
"I see..." Andrew muttered in such a frail manner. Even though he was feeling frail, he could already feel the comfort of Margaret helping him through this.
As if on cue, Margaret came in with her nurse coat on and she had some stuff for the sick major. A glass of water to keep him hydrated, a bottle of antihistamine for him to take, a blanket to wrap around him to reduce the chills, and an ice pack to reduce his fever.
"Okay Andrew, I've got all the supplies needed to help with your flu," she got up and approached him. "I have some water for you to drink so you'll keep hydrated. These antihistamine pills are to be taken. I have a blanket to help with your chills. And the ice pack is to reduce your fever."
"Thanks, Margaret," Andrew thanked her weakly.
"Pierce, could you go get some ice cubes from the Officer's Club," the head nurse told the chief surgeon. "We're gonna need some to put into the ice pack."
"Your word is as good as mine," Hawkeye followed her instruction.
"Hunnicutt, you better go with him and make sure there is ice," Margaret then gave them the ice pack. "And take this with you so you can fill it up right away."
"Sure thing Margaret," BJ obliged. "Let's go Hawkeye."
"Yeah, before Andrew's fever starts to boil over," Pierce remarked as they left.
Once they were gone, Margaret pulled a second stool to sit next to the bed that Andrew was lying down on, since one of them had that glass of water and pill bottle on it. She wanted to make sure how he was feeling.
"How are you feeling?" She asked.
"If I have to be honest, I feel like such a wreck," he didn't hold back in saying that.
"I know honey, but I'm here for you," she assured him. "Everyone else is doing their part to keep this flu from spreading, and I'm going to make sure you get through this."
"I see..." Andrew felt himself coughing a couple of times. "I don't know what I did to deserve this..."
"You don't deserve this," she insisted. "Darling, you got sick. it happens to everyone. That's all there is to it. Now drink some water. I need you to stay hydrated."
Nodding his head slowly, Andrew took the glass and started to drink some of it down. Once he stopped, he felt another sneeze catch on as he felt his nose dripping. Margaret had gone and got him a box of tissues for him to use. She pulled one out, gave it to him, and had him blow his nose, which he did. She kept the box of tissues on the stool next to him so he can use them. Andrew wondered if this pain will ever end, or if this nightmare was only beginning...
It didn't take longer than two hours for the flu to start spreading, as many of the minor doctors and nurses were now sick with the flu. Fortunately, not everyone got sick with it, as several doctors and nurses had the vaccine previously, so there was plenty of medical staff that was active to take care of the ill. Still, it was escalating to an epidemic, as some of the sick had to be quarantined into the V.I.P. tent.
Andrew was still in Post-Op as Margaret was making sure he gets through this. She put the ice pack filled with ice on his head for a bit to bring down the fever. She then had him take two pills of antihistamine so he can get some sleep and reduce the fever. And on top of that, she made sure he continued to drink water throughout the day. So far, he's had at least 8 cups of water today. He's gone to the latrine a couple of times because of that, but it wasn't a problem for him.
Regardless of all this, she didn't care if he'd spread the flu to her. His health was her top priority at the moment.
"Okay Andrew, you'll start getting a little sleepy with the antihistamine you took, but I can promise you that it'll help," the head nurse told him.
"That's fine," Andrew coughed a little. "I can manage."
"Good. Now I'm gonna take your temperature, so I need you to open your mouth so I can put this thermometer in there, okay?"
"Sure." Andrew opened his mouth, and she put the thermometer under his tongue, as he then closed his mouth and waited for a minute.
Afterwards, she took the thermometer out of his mouth and saw just how warm he was. It wasn't anything that surprised her. She wanted to make sure.
"Okay darling, that's all that I wanted to know." She told him.
"Thanks for that, dear," Andrew wheezed a bit from the dry throat.
"You're welcome, sweetheart."
It was then Charles came into the Post-Op with the bucket of medical tools and supplies all cleaned and scrubbed that he put onto the desk.
"Ah, Winchester. Just the one I needed to see," Margaret walked over to him and placed that thermometer into his hand. "I need you to go and scrub up that thermometer. Andrew just had it in his mouth, and it needs to be sanitized, pronto!"
Charles grimaced at the fact that more work was unloaded onto him. "Major, you can't be serious. For the past few hours, I've done nothing but slaved over a sink, scrubbing every nook and cranny of these god-forsaken medical tools and supplies. And now you expected me to do the same with this thermometer!? You are as insane as you are mad!"
Andrew overheard what was said by Winchester. Despite being sick, he decided to say something about it with a weak smile. "You know Charles, it does my heart good to see you slaving yourself over cleaning some medical supplies just for good old me."
Margaret couldn't help but smirk at what Andrew just said. At least he was willing to keep his spirits up while suffering from the flu. That was something to be proud of.
Charles, on the other hand, wasn't so pleased by that. Sick person or not, he wasn't going to take that standing up, or sitting down for that matter.
"Major Peterson, I can assure you that I haven't the slightest bit of interest in doing this for you," he retorted. "In any case, I've been forced into shining this stuff by that old boar of a colonel!"
"Sure you weren't," Andrew smiled weakly. "It still does me some good, and I appreciate it."
Winchester only rolled his eyes as he stormed out with that thermometer, with reluctant plans on getting it cleaned out. From there, Margaret walked back to Andrew and complimented him on how he reacted.
"For someone who's sick with the flu, you sure are willing to keep your spirits up," she remarked.
"Yeah, well, unlike Winchester, I'm not going to keep my head in the gutters, no matter how sick I am," Andrew said honestly.
Margaret found herself grinning at that. Suddenly, she remembered that there was something that she wanted to give to Andrew. Even though he was sick, it was still alright to give it to him, right?
"Oh, I just remembered. I have something that I want to give to you," she told him. "I'll be back in just a moment."
"Alright," Andrew wondered what she wanted to give to him, but considering how she's been here for him since he caught the flu, he shouldn't be too surprised.
"Be right back," she told him softly before heading for the door. As she approached it, Hawkeye had opened it and stepped into Post-Op.
"Oh, Pierce. Just who I wanted to see," she then asked him for a favor. "I have to run to my tent to get something for Andrew. Will you keep an eye on him until I get back?"
"Ah, I gotcha," Pierce accepted the favor. "I'll wait for you to get back."
"Good. I won't be long," and with that, Margaret went to her tent.
Once she was gone, Hawkeye decided to check on Andrew and see how he was doing at the moment.
"So how are you holding up in this luxury hotel that is Post-Op?" He asked him.
"Eh, I still feel lousy," Andrew moaned. "I am starting to feel a little tired though."
"Good. Then the antihistamine must be doing its job," Pierce commented. "You'll be alright in no time."
"Yeah," Andrew coughed lightly a few times. "To be honest...I feel like this was all my fault. That I am to blame for this flu epidemic from starting in the first place..."
Hawkeye was a little taken aback by what Andrew just said. Was he seriously blaming himself for this epidemic? Did he seem himself as the sole proprietor of it all? No matter the answer, just about anyone could've gotten the flu first and it would have escalated just as quickly.
"Andrew, you can't pin this all on you," Hawkeye told him in a serious tone. "You can't blame yourself for this epidemic. Anyone could have gotten the flu instead of you. There was nothing you could do to stop it."
"But still..." Andrew looked a little uneasy as he sneezed. "I've been feeling like such a pain to the 4077 for all of you to go through all this trouble."
Hawkeye had to shake his head at that, as he didn't think that at all. "No. Andrew, you aren't a pain to the 4077. If anything, I've been a pain to you."
This got Andrew really confused. He had no idea what the captain was talking about. "What are you saying, Pierce?"
Hawkeye let out a sigh. He knew that this had to come out, so he decided to do it right now since it was just them.
"Look, Andrew, I just want to say that I'm sorry," Hawkeye apologized. "I'm sorry for all the teasing I've done in regards to your feelings for Margaret."
Andrew took that apology in for a moment. It was true that all the teasing he had done was downright annoying. But it still didn't come without its perks, as the feeling turned out to be true.
"You weren't wrong though..." Andrew said hoarsely.
Now Hawkeye was surprised by what he just heard. Was the medication that he took making him say this stuff out in the open? It must've been because he hasn't done this before. Not to him at least.
"Excuse me, would you mind repeating that?" The captain queried.
"I said you weren't wrong though, not entirely at least," Andrew explained weakly. "I do have feelings for Margaret. And I do love being around her a lot. I found myself charmed by not only her looks but her wonderful personality. I was more upset because I assumed that you felt my feelings for her were a joke or a tease, and not genuine. I am happy to be stationed in the same M*A*S*H unit that she is in. And I want us to stay together too. I was literally happy when Margaret and I became a couple just a couple of days ago. And everything that happened to us when we were lost in the wilderness really brought us closer together. My point is that while the teasing was annoying, it wasn't without its faults, and I can't be too mad about that. I hope you understand what I'm saying."
As soon as Andrew was finished, Hawkeye couldn't help but think things over. A lot of what Andrew said just now was true. Whether it was the medication driving him or not, he was correct. Now he had to get what he wants to say out in the open.
"I understand what your saying Andrew," Pierce said softly. "After seeing you two kiss that one night I made that dare made me realize that I should have butt out as BJ insisted. I should have allowed you two to decide on your own. And to be honest, I'm happy that both of you became a couple."
"Thanks. But I'm saying that I'm not too mad about it and that I forgive you for it. And it's not because I'm sick either," Andrew proclaimed nasally. "Eventually, I would have gotten over it. Besides, I no longer feel ashamed of being seen with Margaret in public, let alone kissing her. So I guess I'm saying there's no hard feelings, Pierce."
"That's good," Hawkeye was at least satisfied with this talk that he had with the sick major. "I'm glad that we had this talk, Andrew."
"Same here," Andrew agreed with him.
Just then, Margaret stepped back into Post-Op and saw Hawkeye having finished a chat with Andrew.
"Pierce? Were you pestering Andrew again?" Margaret asked with a warning tone.
"Ah no. Not this time," Hawkeye defended. "We were just talking."
"Talking? About what?"
"He was just talking to me about how he's sorry for the teasing he's done," Andrew vouched for him. "He apologized for how he teased me in regards to my feelings for you, and that I said that I was hurt because I felt that my feelings were a joke and a tease, and not genuine. And that he admits that he should've just butt out. So I've forgiven him for that and that there are no hard feelings."
"I see..." Margaret wasn't sure if she should believe that or not, but since this is Andrew she listened to, she decided to trust her boyfriend on this. "Well, that's good I guess."
"Yeah," Hawkeye then started to walk away. "Since your back, I'll leave you two alone. I got to check on some of the other sick people here anyway, before scrubbing up. I'll see myself out."
And with that, he left to check on some of the other sick patients. As soon as he was gone, Margaret got her focus back onto Andrew and approached him again.
"So I guess he finally learned his lesson, after all, right?" She asked him.
"Yeah," Andrew nodded before settling back down. "Anyway, didn't you have something to give to me?"
It was then she remembered exactly what she wanted to give to him. "Oh right. I wanted to give you this."
She then gave him what appeared to be a ring box. Curiously, Andrew opened the box and saw what looked to be a ruby ring. Andrew had no idea what this was about, or why she was giving this to him, especially when he's sick no less. But he wanted to know for sure.
"Uhhhh...dear," he looked at her with a puzzled look and scratchy eyes. "Not that I don't appreciate this gift being given to me out of nowhere, but what is it suppose to be?"
"That is a ruby ring darling. It is a precious family heirloom of mine," Margaret explained to him. "It once belonged to Frank Burns, but when I was engaged to Donald, I took it back from Frank and gave it to Donald. But then after I divorced Donald, I had him send it back to me, or I would issue a complaint about how he stole it from me. But now since we are a couple, I want you to have in Andrew."
"Awwwwww Margaret," despite being sick, Andrew was still able to feel flattered by this. "You really don't have to give this to me. It is your family heirloom after all. You don't have to do this for me."
"But I want you to have it, Andrew. We've grown so close and now we are a couple," she insisted. "I'm giving it to you because you are a faithful person who wouldn't do anything behind my back. So it's yours, darling."
She would've kissed him, but he was sick. So she settled with a wink instead. Andrew just stared at it with a lost expression. Why would she do this for him? Was it because he's sick? Was there so much pity to be shown towards him because of his condition? Just thinking of it made him guilter than ever.
Disregarding the ring, for now, Andrew looked at her with that lost expression in his eye.
"Margaret...why...?" Andrew said weakly. "Why are you going through all this trouble for me when I have the flu...?"
"Because I love you, Andrew," Margaret showed no hesitation with answering. "You're my boyfriend, and I can't stand seeing you suffer like this! You don't deserve to stay sick, so that's why I've been helping you! Because I want you to get better and be able to do things again!"
"I love you too Margaret," Andrew sniffled. "But my concern is that you'll get yourself sick if you keep helping me like this."
"Don't worry about me honey," she told him. "Your health is far more important to me than my own. Besides, I already had my flu vaccine recently, so I shouldn't get that sick."
"But I..."
"Look, Andrew, do you remember what I said to you when we were in that abandoned South Korean home? When you had that minor wound in your left arm?"
"Yes," he nodded.
"I told you that you are my partner. In and out of OR," she explained. "And as my partner, I'm not gonna let you stay sick. Not if I have anything to say about it. So I'm going to help you get better no matter what."
Oh, Margaret, what did I do to deserve someone as perfect and loyal as you? Andrew thought. I guess that's why you're the only girl I'll ever love.
Andrew was able to convince himself to let Margaret help him get better from this flu, regardless of whether or not she does get herself sick. Besides, if she did get sick, and if he was feeling a million times better, then there was no harm in helping her get better too, right?
"Okay Margaret dear," Andrew accepted, feeling another cough come up. "I'd love to have you take care of me until I'm better."
"Thank you, Andrew," she smiled warmly.
"And besides, if you do catch the flu, and when I'm feeling better, I'll help you get better," he had that smile on his face, no matter how weak it was.
"It goes to show how much we look out for each other."
"Yeah, and uhhh, thanks for this," Andrew pointed her to the ruby ring. "I'll uhhh, be sure to put it on when I'm no longer sick with the flu."
"I would love that. Thanks," Margaret noticed how her boyfriend was starting to zone out, the medicine kicking in. "Now please get some sleep. You'll need it."
"Okay," he closed up the ring box and put it to the side.
"I'll be right over at the desk if you need me," Margaret pointed out.
"Alright. Thanks," Andrew found himself slipping straight into a deep sleep, something that he needed.
She gave him one last look before heading to the desk for a bit, wondering how long Andrew will take for him to get over the flu...
THE NEXT DAY - IN POST-OP:
Apparently, Andrew slept longer than a good 8 hours, since he was sick and the medicine made him pass out. He really did need the extra sleep though. At this moment, he was still asleep in the Post-Op bed. At least he was until Father Mulcahy came into Post-Op, planning on getting the sheets on the bed Andrew was sleeping on washed up in the laundry tent. He was wearing latex gloves to protect his hands from germs that came from the flu.
Approaching Andrew's bed, Father Mulcahy cleared his throat to get him to wake up.
"Ahem. Pardon me for waking you when you are cursed with the flu, Major," the Padre started as Andrew opened his eyes and looked towards him. "But I'm gonna need the blanket and sheets from this bed that you've been sleeping on since your sick. So I need you to stand up for just a minute."
"Oh...Okay," Andrew understood his reason as he slowly got up. He still had a sore throat, but at least his fever was less noticeable.
After he stood on his own two feet, he tried to pull the sheets and blanket off of his bed, but Father Mulcahy insisted.
"Oh no, Major. No need to trouble yourself when you are suffering from the flu. Allow me to handle this," with that, the Chaplin approached his bed and took the blankets and sheets off the bed with his latex gloves still on. He put them into the basket that he brought with him afterwards.
"Thank you for this," Andrew thanked him slowly. "By the way, you seem quite happy doing this kind of thing."
"It was no trouble at all. And it's just the thought of being useful that's got me uplifted," the Padre exclaimed, before picking up the basket. "By the way, Major Houlihan is going to put an extra set of bed sheets on this bed. Klinger's suppose to be here to disinfect the bed for you."
"Here I am sir," that voice belonged to Klinger, as he looked a little tired and frail. "I'm ready to disinfect the bed for you, Major Peterson."
Without another word said, Klinger dumped some of the disinfectant liquid onto the mattress to get rid of the unwanted germs.
"Hey Klinger, are you alright," he asked. "You don't look so good."
"Must be from the lack of sleep," Klinger murmured. "Thank you for letting me do that by the way."
"You're welcome." Andrew was confused by this.
Klinger didn't say anything else as he left Post-Op in a stumbling manner. Father Mulcahy was a little perplexed by this. But he decided not to look into it any further.
"Well, I should be going now," the Padre then said to Andrew. "Do try to get better Major."
"Right. Thanks, Father." Andrew said, watching him walk out of Post-Op, leaving him alone for the time being.
While he was alone, Andrew thought about everything that had happened. The talk he had with Hawkeye last night, the fact that Margaret gave him a family heirloom, having Father Mulcahy take the blanket and sheets to be washed thoroughly, and Klinger disinfecting the bed with that liquid, albeit in a frail manner.
Well, Winchester was sanitizing the medical tools, but he was forced to by the colonel, and he acted as snobby as usual. He hoped that getting sick wasn't making everyone start to go soft on him, because it wasn't necessary. Perhaps he was a necessary member of the 4077 after all.
But of course, he knew that this whole time, especially when it comes to Margaret. Yes, Margaret. He looked at the ring box again, remembering the reason why she gave it to him.
It was very sweet of her to do this for me...
Then on cue, Margaret came back into Post-Op with the basket of fresh bed sheets and blanket for Andrew's bed. He also noticed her bringing in a bowl of steaming soup, that she put to the side. For now, she focused on getting the bed that he was sleeping on made.
"Oh, look who's up," she said while putting the sheets and blanket onto the bed. "How's my brave little fighter doing?"
"I'm feeling meh," Andrew responded. "My throat is still sore and I have these urges to cough. And my nose is still stuffy. But I think my fever is going away."
"Well, it'll get better," she reassured him. "I set this bed up with fresh sheets and a blanket for you to lie down on."
"Thanks for that," Andrew walked back over to the bed. "Father Mulcahy took the old sheets and blanket and is having them washed, and Klinger poured some disinfectant liquid onto the mattress. I've also noticed Klinger isn't looking so good. He claims that it must be from the lack of sleep."
"I can see why, considering how he's been doing it all day yesterday," Margaret watched Andrew get back into the bed. "Anyway, I have something else that I want to give to you."
She went over and brought the bowl of hot soup over to him, complete with a spoon as she sat in the spare stool, and scooted it close to his bed.
"What's that?"
"It's soup. For you to eat," she then said to him. "Andrew you haven't eaten anything within the past 24 hours or so. You need to eat something to keep your strength up."
"Yeah. I guess my lack of appetite had something to do with that," Andrew sighed. "Alright, I'll eat the soup. But could you do me a solid?"
"Yeah. What?"
"I don't think my arms are ready to be used yet," Andrew then said shyly. "Could you...maybe...feed it to me...?"
You could see just how embarrassed he was when he asked that question. Thankfully, she didn't judge him for that choice.
"Sure," she scooped up some of the soup into the spoon. "You want me to give it the 'choo choo' treatment?"
"We don't need to go that far," Andrew had something else to say to her, but it was cut off when she put the spoon into his mouth and got him to swallow it.
Andrew's cheeks turned a bright rosy red. He didn't know what it was about; the fact that the soup was too hot, or the fact that Margaret was feeding it to him. Nonetheless, he swallowed it down whole.
The same thing happened with the next spoonful. And the next one. And the next. It kept going like this for 7 to 9 minutes until Andrew was all finished with the soup.
"Okay, I'm all set," Andrew said, panting with how much he swallowed. "Thanks for that."
"You're welcome darling," Margaret smiled as she put the empty bowl and spoon onto the desk for now. She could take care of it later.
Just then, Hawkeye and BJ came into the Post-Op, willing to check up on how Andrew was doing.
"Hey, how's our little sick patient doing?" BJ wondered as he and Hawkeye approached them.
"Yeah, we are just checking on our sick calf," Hawkeye added. "You know, we just want to see how he's doing."
"I'm more on the meh side this time. My throat is still sore, I have these urges to cough and my nose is still stuffy," Andrew explained. "But my fever seems to be going away. Plus, I just had some hot soup; the first thing I ate in 24 hours."
Andrew left out the part where Margaret fed it to him, seeing that they didn't need to know that. Fortunately, they accepted it as an answer.
"Sounds fair enough, I guess," BJ shrugged. "Glad to see some progress is being made."
"Let's just say that we hope your flu goes away as soon as possible," Hawkeye commented.
"I hope so too," Margaret agreed.
Andrew was smiling, albeit weakly. He still felt some of the sickness, but some progress was made. However, before he could say anything, Charles came into Post-Op, feeling all hideous and sick on the inside as he stumbled to an empty bed.
"Winchester? What's up with you?" Andrew queried with a raised eyebrow.
"Oooooooohh..." Winchester groaned in misery. "I think I had contracted your flu..."
"Well, we better get him to a bed," BJ commented.
"That makes two people of ours that are sick," Hawkeye referred to the main crew of personnel in the 4077.
"Better make that three," that came from Klinger, who stumbled back in looking as sick as a dog. "I think I've caught Andrew's flu too."
"I should have known something was wrong considering how you stumbled about when disinfecting my bed," Andrew remarked.
"Ooooooohh... It hurts..." Klinger felt himself wanting to fall over.
"Would you look at that? Three sick calves in a petting zoo," Hawkeye retorted.
"Okay Pierce, you get Klinger into bed, and BJ, you tend to Winchester," Margaret commanded, staying by Andrew's side. "I'll take care of Andrew."
"Fair enough. Come on Charles, time to make you feel better," BJ turned his attention to Winchester.
"Please, Hunnicutt...I just want to lie down," Winchester whined, not wanting to be bothered.
"Fine by me. I just need to give you the remedies that were given to Andrew," BJ insisted.
"Yeah, come on Klinger," Hawkeye helped Klinger to bed. "Time for this sick Lebanese-American calf to hit the sack."
"Ohhhhhhhh...where am I?" Klinger moaned, feeling delusional. "Is this Toledo...?"
"Yes, Klinger. We are in the Toledo Hospital, about to cure you of the flu," Hawkeye said sarcastically.
"Oh good..." Klinger whimpered as he got onto the bed and lied down.
Andrew and Margaret only exchanged looks at the sight before them.
"Gosh. I never thought I was that sick," Andrew grimaced, feeling an itch in his throat again.
"They are just overreacting a little," Margaret shrugged. "Anyway, let me get you some more water. You'll need to keep being hydrated."
"That would be lovely dear," Andrew smiled. "Thank you."
"You're welcome, darling."
She then went to get a glass of water for her boyfriend, while BJ and Hawkeye tend to their own patients of Charles and Klinger respectively, who had started to cough, sneeze, shiver, and felt a fever picking up. It was safe to say that Andrew wasn't the only one feeling sick at the moment...
A couple of days have passed since then. Andrew felt like he was on the road to recovery, while Klinger and Winchester felt absolutely miserable. At the moment, Colonel Potter was sitting outside the OR entrance when suddenly, an army van pulled into the unit and came to a stop just outside of the OR building. Colonel Potter was curious by this as a man in green army clothing stepped out and saluted him.
"Excuse me, I'm looking for a Colonel Potter. Would you happen to be him?"
"That would be me," Colonel Potter said. "Is there something I can do for you?"
"Yes, there is. You see, I've come here to deliver four boxes of flu vaccines that you ordered," the delivery guy got out the four boxes. "I believe you issued these to be sent here, right?"
"Yes, and about time too," Potter remarked. "We have a whole clan of sick people here who require these flu shots! Two of my majors caught it, as did my company clerk! This couldn't have come at a better time!"
"Fair enough," the delivering guy headed for the building. "I'll bring this stuff in here, and you'll get some of your staff ready to give these vaccines to those who need it."
"Exactly what I was counting on," Potter followed him inside. "You sure know how to make a good bargain."
"Yeah, I know."
And so they went inside the building, planning on giving vaccines...
Sometime later, in Post-Op, Andrew was lying in his own bed with Charles and Klinger keeping him company. His two roommates looked absolutely miserable. He couldn't blame them though. He felt the same way when he first caught it. He wondered when the vaccines will get here, just so they can finally resolve this issue.
Then just as if hope came in, Hawkeye and BJ entered with Margaret following behind them. Each of them had a needle for the flu vaccine, a cotton ball, and a bottle of rubbing alcohol to give them the vaccine.
"Hey gentlemen, we bring great gifts to you," Hawkeye got their attention.
"And by gifts, we mean a flu vaccine for all three of you," BJ told them.
"Ooooooooooooooohhhh..." Charles and Klinger whined, not ready for a vaccine.
"That's great news guys," Andrew said, a little more uplifting compared to his roommates.
"I'm glad to hear that darling," Margaret approached Andrew. "Because you're going to be the first person to receive this vaccine. You got sick first, so you'll get your shot first. It's only fair."
"Yeah, I suppose so," Andrew shrugged. "Let's just get it done and over with so I don't ever have to be this sick with the flu again."
"That's the spirit," the head nurse was impressed with his enthusiasm. "Would you like it on the right arm or the left arm?"
"Actually, if it isn't too much trouble dear, I'd prefer it on my left arm," Andrew insisted.
"Left-arm it is," Margaret grinned as she approached his left arm and had him hang it out straight.
Andrew was very patient while Margaret got ready to give him the vaccine. First, she took a cotton ball and got it soaked in that rubbing alcohol. Then she rubbed the moist cotton ball on the spot that the vaccine will be injected into. Then she grabbed the needle and extracted the pointy end towards the moist spot on his left arm.
"Okay, this'll only sting for a minute," she told him.
"Alright," he was being casual about it.
From there, she then inserted the needle into his arm and injected the vaccine right into his left arm. Despite the slight pinch, Andrew didn't react to it at all. He kept himself calm and stoic while she did it. As a final touch, she put a bandage over the spot that she poked the needle into.
"There. All done," she seemed impressed by his patience. "I'm impressed, Andrew. You didn't freak out. Although I'm not surprised with how calm you were when I gave you that vaccine, it was still impressive."
"Yeah I know," Andrew said. "I'm not crazy about needles, but if it means I won't get a bad case of the flu again, then I can manage."
"That's what I like to hear," she was encouraging of his enthusiasm.
"I just wished Klinger had the same motivation that Andrew had," Hawkeye said, holding Klinger down to give him the vaccine.
"Same goes for Charles," BJ was also holding Winchester down so he could be given the vaccine.
"You know, this is no problem at all," Andrew said. "I might have the occasional dry coughs and occasional stuffy nose. But now that I have a flu vaccine, I think things will start improving for me very soon."
"I couldn't agree more Andrew," Margaret beamed in agreement.
And so Andrew lied back down as Margaret kept him company. Andrew knew his left arm would be sore as a result, but at least this wouldn't happen again. They watched as Charles and Klinger got their shots from BJ and Hawkeye respectively before they went around and gave vaccines to the rest of the compound who didn't get it yet. It seems that things will take a turn for the better at the 4077...
A couple more days have passed since then. In Post-Op, Andrew was seen sleeping away. After being given antihistamine as medication, some water to drink, and eating soup, he started to feel different. Although he didn't notice it at first. And neither did his two sick roommates.
He heard three voices in Post-Op, and he could identify them just from their voice.
"Andrew has been in here for a few days," that came from Hawkeye. "I think he must be feeling better."
"He should be, seeing how he was taken care of all this time," that voice belonged to BJ.
"Let's wait for him to wake up," the head nurse spoke.
At that moment, Andrew slowly opened his eyes and sat up. He didn't feel miserable anymore. All the painful aches in his body were gone and there was no sign of a headache.
"Hey, Andrew? How are you feeling?" Hawkeye queried.
"Alright I guess," Andrew felt his tummy rumbling. "I'm also kinda hungry."
"What about your throat and nose," BJ brought up. "Are those still sore and stuffed up?"
"Actually," Andrew was able to breathe through his nose. "I can smell again. And my throat stopped being sore."
"So does this mean your feeling better," Margaret questioned.
"Now that you mention it, I don't feel sick anymore," Andrew felt a smile creep on as he pieced it together. "I'm actually feeling a lot better!"
"I bet you feel like a million bucks," Pierce commented.
"When you put it that way Pierce, yes I do," Andrew smiled as he was able to get up and join the two captains and his girlfriend.
All of them were happy that he was no longer sick and they expressed it through cheers and whatnot.
"I'm so glad that you are healthy again," the head nurse beamed. "Love you, darling."
"Love you too dear," Andrew was just as ecstatic. "You know guys? There are two kinds of doctors that I know of! There are you guys."
"Ooooooooohhhhh..." Winchester groaned. "What's with all the screaming...?"
"And then there's Winchester," Andrew point towards him. "Let's make him and Klinger feel like a million bucks just like I am!"
"Hey, I'm all for that," Pierce exclaimed.
"Me too," Hunnicutt agreed.
"Count me in too," Margaret was willing to go with it.
All four of them were talking in unison about how to make the other two sick patients feel as good as Andrew was. No matter the outcome to it, it was great to see Andrew back on his own two feet, and feeling as fit as a fiddle again.
Things couldn't have gone any better...
END OF CHAPTER 17...
Whew. This was a pretty long chapter to write, considering how many details I added to it. I hope you like it despite its long length.
Really, I don't have much to say this time. So I'll be doing some thinking about what the next chapter is going to be about. What will happen next? Find out next time.
For now, you can leave a review only if you like. Constructive criticism is for those who are polite about it. And positive reviews are welcome anytime.
That's all that I have for now. So until next time, do take care of yourselves. And with that said and done, thanks for reading everyone!
