"A Heavenly Cause"
Chapter Nine
Roy's smoke-irritated eyes eventually re-opened.
It wasn't a dream.
He really was lying in a hospital bed, in I-See-You, judging by the camera on the ceiling.
His wife, however, was no longer seated beside him.
"She went home to change and check on the kids," his partner suddenly volunteered.
Roy slowly turned his head.
Sure enough. His buddy was lying in the neighboring bed.
Roy stared at his partner in complete and utter disbelief and then gave him a 'What are we doing here?' look.
"I know. Right?" Johnny then proceeded to relate the explanation Dixie had so kindly provided for him earlier that morning.
Roy still found their continued existence completely incomprehensible and the two of them enjoyed a good laugh.
Joanne returned just then. "What's so funny?" she wondered and couldn't keep from grinning herself.
"Nothing," they replied in perfect unison.
There was just no way the woman would ever understand.
Joanne planted a passionate kiss upon her hubby's still smiling lips. "Your son wanted me to give you this."
Roy took the folded piece of construction paper and opened it.
Christopher had made his father a crayon drawing. A red blob with four smaller black blobs. 'The Squad?'
"And your daughter wanted me to deliver these," Joanne pressed her face right up to her husband's and fluttered her long eyelashes against his.
Susie had sent her Daddy a whole slew of butterfly kisses.
Joanne then crossed over to the neighboring bed and smiled down at her husband's partner. "Thank you," she shakily whispered just prior to planting a kiss on his forehead.
Johnny didn't—couldn't say anything. He just blinked his misty eyes and smiled right back at her.
It was then that Roy noted the present condition of his partner's hair. His dream hadn't been so impossible, after all. "Dixie was dressed in a sultry black dinner dress…and she was standing right over there…cutting your hair."
Gage grinned and nodded. "She did a damn good job, too. Don't yah think?" He picked his head up from his pillow and turned it from side to side.
Joanne's right eyebrow arched and she aimed an accusing glare at her mate. "Sultry black dinner dress?"
DeSoto saw 'the' look and promptly ducked beneath his bed covers.
Kel Brackett was the next person to pay the recuperating firemen a visit.
The doctor gave both of his patients a very thorough neurological exam….and one of his infamous lectures.
"These latest tests show signs of significant improvement. However, anytime the brain is deprived of oxygen there is the potential for cell damage. I'm hoping that exposure time was limited and that treatment was administered quickly enough to minimize whatever neurological damage may have been done.
Since neurological damage from CO poisoning can be delayed, the two of you will have to undergo weekly cognitive testing for the next couple of months."
The two firemen exchanged grave glances.
"When can we get out of here?" Gage wondered.
"You can probably go home tomorrow." He turned to Roy. "We'll be keeping you for a few more days. We still have a few tests to run. With that busted rib, we'll need to monitor your lungs and administer breathing treatments to ward off pneumonia. Any questions?"
The dark-haired fireman proceeded to fire off a whole barrage of questions.
Kel winced. He was going to have to stop loaning the paramedic his old medical journals.
Johnny's old ear doctor was the next visitor.
"I'll be needing an upright chair," the doctor informed the nurse who had escorted him into the room.
The nurse nodded and left to procure a chair.
"Hi, Mr. DeSoto. My name is Dr. Jeff Perry. I'm an otolaryngologist. An ENT."
"An ear, nose and throat guy. Right?"
Perry smiled. "Right. This is my assistant…" he added and motioned to a young woman with a medical chart and a satchel strung over her left shoulder. "Dr. Brackett has asked me to examine your airway. Is that all right with you?"
Mr. DeSoto nodded.
"I understand that the two of you are firemen."
Another nod.
"Inhalational burns are, by far, my biggest challenge as an ENT. But, I must confess, I don't see too many firemen. Firemen will rarely be symptomatic from smoke exposure unless the SCBA wasn't worn or the mask was dislodged or failed during fire suppression."
"I was the victim of a ceiling collapse and ran out of air before I could be rescued."
Perry appeared somewhat astonished. "Were you close to the fire?"
"I was in the fire."
Perry appeared even more shocked, but then obligingly began his exam. "Complications from smoke inhalation can take hours or even days to manifest themselves. No sign of any burns to the face or neck."
His assistant noted the observation on her chart.
"The magnitude of an airway burn depends on both air temperature and time of exposure. The hotter the temperature the less exposure time is required to produce a significant burn. Significant burn starts at around an inhalation air temperature of 184.73 °."
"I figure that was the temp' the air in that hallway was about to reach, when Don Quixote over there showed up with an air-pac."
Perry shot Don Quixote a quick glance. Then he donned his stethoscope and listened closely for any abnormal lung sounds. "Thermal damage to the upper airway can induce stridor or hoarseness. None present. Chemical damage to the trachea and bronchi can create wheezing or rhonchi. Also absent. Deep inhalation into the alveoli can cause pulmonary edema. Your lungs sound remarkably clear and your oxygen SATS and latest blood gases are both contraindicative of edema."
The requested 'upright chair' arrived.
"Stick around," Perry told the orderly. "I'm going to need your help to move this patient." The doctor handed his assistant the stethoscope and she passed him back a powerful headlamp. He strapped it on and then announced, "Laryngoscopic exam."
The young woman promptly picked her pen back up and began writing.
"We are going to sit you in this chair…"
"Careful," John advised. "He's got a busted rib."
Roy was carefully moved to the chair.
"I'm going to ask you to open your mouth as wide as possible. I will then spray your throat with this anesthetic…"
The woman stuck her pen between her teeth and handed her boss a spray can.
"…to numb it. I'll have you gargle and then spit. I will then cover your tongue with gauze and hold it down. A mirror will be placed at the back of your throat. Even with the topical, it may cause gagging. If the exam becomes too uncomfortable for you, just give me a poke. Open wide for me please…" Perry examined the fireman's mouth while spraying the anesthetic. "No apparent swelling or blistering."
The observation was duly noted.
Roy winced at the spray's bitter taste. Gatorade Gum was yummy, by comparison. His throat instantly felt swollen.
Perry's assistant held an emesis basin up to his mouth.
The patient obediently gargled and then spat.
"Just try to breathe normally. It will all be over in just a few minutes." Doctor Perry flicked his headlamp's ridiculously bright light on, covered Roy's tongue with a gauze pad and held it down. A warm mirror was inserted into the fireman's mouth and held up to the back of his throat. With the aid of his headlamp, the doctor tilted the mirror to view various areas of the throat. "Say ahhh."
"Ahhh…"
"The larynx, vocal cords, and hypopharynx are unremarkable. I'm not seeing any soot deposits in the nares or oropharynx. The oropharynx is lined with moist mucous membranes, making heat transfer very efficient. Which is why most thermal burns caused by hot smoke occur above the glottis. There is an absence of swelling on both the oropharynx and laryngopharynx." Perry removed his mirror, released the fireman's tongue and flicked his headlamp off. "The numbness will wear off in about 30 minutes. You should not eat or drink anything for about 2 hours." That said, the ENT doctor flicked his headlamp back on and began a thorough examination of his patient's nose. "You didn't singe your nasal hair, but the nasal cavity, itself, shows significant signs of heat damage."
"I inhaled through my nose."
"That'll do it.
"The entire olfactory region is pretty much fried." Perry saw the perplexed look on the face of his assistant. "Substantial burn to the olfactory cleft," he quickly clarified. "The olfactory cleft is where the receptors for smell sensations are found. Olfactory cilia are located along the upper surface of the inside of the nasal passages. These hair-like receptor cells respond to chemical stimuli that have dissolved in the nasal mucus. 80% of our taste is related to smell. That's why we can't taste food when we have a stuffy nose. Anything that impairs your sense of smell, will also decrease your perception of taste. The good news is that the damage isn't permanent. Olfactory cilia are constantly being replaced. The bad news is you won't be smelling anything for a few days. This also means an inability to taste. Then again, considering your current address, that may not be such a bad thing."
Everyone was forced to grin.
"In spite of your close proximity to the fire, I am pleased to report that I can find no permanent damage to your airway. You are a very lucky man."
Roy flashed his friend in the bed beside him a grateful grin. "It helps to have a partner who is completely insane."
Gage grinned back and waggled his eyebrows.
If someone had to be completely insane to champion a lost—er, heavenly cause, then so be it.
Captain Hank Stanley, and his entire engine crew, stepped out of the elevator on Rampart's sixth floor and up to the Nurses' Station.
"We're here to see Gage and DeSoto," Stanley announced.
"Patient relationship?"
"Brothers," Hank truthfully replied.
The nurse fought back a grin. "One at a time and visits must be kept to under two minutes."
"Chester, you're up first, pal."
Chet hurried off down the hall.
The three remaining firemen poured themselves some complimentary coffee and sank into some seats in the visitors' lounge.
Stoker glanced up from his steaming brew. "Can I ask you something?" he quietly inquired of his Captain.
"Shoot."
"Why did you pick Chet and me?"
Hank studied his engineer carefully. "Why do you think I chose the two of you?"
"Because you could see how tore up I was that I couldn't save Roy the first time…and you were hoping I might be able to help save him the second time?"
Hank smiled. "And Kelly?"
"Because he looked like he was about to start scaling the outside of the building?"
The two of them enjoyed a good chuckle.
But then Hank forced himself to sober. "The ability to think like your Captain is the sign of a really good engineer. It's also a sign that you may be ready to become a Captain, yourself."
"Thanks but, I think I'll stick with being a really good engineer."
It made 51's Captain deliriously happy to hear that and the two of them exchanged grins.
Kelly just stood there, in the open doorway to ICU Room 604, smiling.
The room's occupants' eyes were open and they were both moving.
He blinked his blurring vision clear and finally stepped up to the foot of Johnny's hospital bed.
A nurse was in the process of changing the dressings on his buddy's burned legs.
"Sheesh, Gage. You really are a red man."
John glanced up at his visitor and suppressed a smile. "I hear you helped save my red hide. So I'll let that one slide."
"Thanks, Roy!" Kelly suddenly declared in the most sarcastic manner imaginable.
DeSoto lowered his magazine and looked up. "What did I do?"
"What did you do? What did you do? You ruined a perfectly good pigeon. That's what you did." That said, Chester B. turned and took his leave. He'd seen what he'd come to see. Besides, his two minutes were up.
The remaining firemen exchanged more than a few mystified glances.
Johnny's gaze returned to the open doorway, through which their latest visitor had just vanished. "Talk about being completely insane…"
Roy couldn't keep from grinning. "Must be the company he keeps."
TBC