Part Six
Jim stood, smoothing down the covers, tucking Blair's arm under the sheets. Blair's eyes were open now, but he stared ahead, unseeing, eerily unblinking and blank.
A soft knock came at the open door and he turned to see Simon and Joel standing in the doorway.
Jim nodded as his boss and friend entered the semi darkened room and Simon sat in the chair near the window and Joel stood close to the foot of the bed, examining Blair.
"You okay?" Simon asked, looking from Jim to the still figure in the bed.
Jim nodded, leaning on the raised bed rail. He had never seen anything like this and truth be told it scared the shit out of him. His heart was still periodically sputtering. "Yeah, thanks for coming."
"So what are they saying now?" Joel wanted to know, reaching forward to touch Blair's foot through the sheet and it was then that Jim remembered he wasn't Blair's only friend, that other people had cared and loved for both of them and it was a small comfort to know that it also meant he wasn't alone in his worry.
"They know he's catatonic," he couldn't help the sigh that escaped. "But not why."
As they watched, Blair's arm came slowly from under the covers. Jim started to reach for the appendage, but stopped when the hand settled onto the sheet beside Blair's body.
It was still freaking him out to see Blair move parts of his body, usually in super slow motion, sometime leaving his arm hanging in mid air, or if he waited without interruption, he would twist his body, slowly moving to a destination known only to Blair. Missy had explained that it's a usual symptom of the illness that had overtaken Blair, but should improve with the meds they were giving.
Joel moved around the bed to stand across from Jim, resting his hand on the arm that Blair had moved a moment before. "Do you think he knows we are here…he's in there… somewhere, right?"
"They said to talk to him…he might be aware on some level." Jim sank into his chair, voice rough from all the talking he had already done.
"I just don't get it," Simon said. "What could cause this, Jim?"
"A short list, but they already checked for autoimmune disorders, neurological lesions. Missy thought he had had a…" he cleared his throat, not wanting to think about the possibilities. "a ah stroke, but the MRI was clear. They're still checking for metabolic disturbances. She also mentioned PTSD…but he doesn't fit into that category since we know he hasn't had any recent trauma."
Blair's hand was on the move again, slowly rising from the bed. When Jim leaned forward to reach for the hand again, Joel spoke up. "Why don't you let him be…what harm can he do?"
But Joel hadn't been the one to find Blair earlier, his body contorted in an unnatural position, twisted on the bed with his neck turned in an odd angle, both arms up and over his head.
It was something that Jim was surely never to forget.
He shouldn't have left, shouldn't have listened to Missy when she told him that Blair was stable and had been given medications that would take time to work.
Coming back from a quick bite to eat in the cafeteria and meeting up with Missy in the hall, they had spent a few minutes at the nurse's station while Missy finished up with something she was typing into the computer. She told Jim while he waited that they had increased the medications that would bring Blair out of his state, but that it wasn't an exact science and that it would probably be trial and error until they found the right combo of meds and often times that patients came out of it anywhere within a few hours to a few days once treatment had been started.
Ever since he had left the small hospital room he had been attuned to Blair's heartbeat and respiration and suddenly sensing a change ran down the hall, Missy on his heels and calling after him, wanting to know what was going on.
They had entered the room to find Blair twisted on the bed, eyes opened wide, but not responding to Jim's calls.
Pulling himself from his thoughts, he tucked the arm back against Blair's side, Jim sunk back into his chair. "He might accidentally hurt himself or pull a tube," he told them. "The doctor said that if he doesn't snap out of it soon and remains active, they'll have to restrain him."
Simon shifted in his seat, clearly not sure what to say to him. But Jim was sure that sooner or later he was gonna offer him a ride home. He glanced at the clock, a little surprised to see that it was nearly nine at night. "Anyway, I'm gonna stay with him. I don't want him to be alone."
Simon nodded, gathering up his coat and stood. "Tell the kid we're all rooting for him. I'll check back with you in the morning."
"Hey Blair." Joel leaned over the prone man in the bed. "Get better and come back real soon, okay man? We all miss you."
Jim walked them to the door, saying good night before returning to the chair.
Hours slowly ticked by…but nothing changed.
Around three in the morning Jim finally drifted off to sleep, encouraged hours before by the nurse that came to check on his partner. "I'll keep watch for now, get some rest."
Her words didn't sit right with him, but despite his best intentions, he's eyes grew heavy.
Sometime later he awoke to a dim room, the sun was just coming up and its early rays were trying to penetrate the haze of the room. Jim looked toward his friend and sighed, reaching to tuck the raised arm back under the covers. "Good morning, Chief."
He wasn't surprised when he received no answer. Blair's eyes remained closed.
Over the next few hours people came and went, the ward doctor checked Blair's incisions, looking for signs of infection. "Everything looks good."
Jim nodded, "What about the meds…are they working?"
"It's too soon to know for sure. The Lorazepam will be injected again this morning and hopefully we'll see more improvement.
"What if you don't see improvement, then what?" Jim asked, needing to know what the outcome could be.
"We'll try Zolpidem next, there are some therapies we can try." The man finished his examination, pulling down Blair's gown and pulling up the blankets, carefully lowering the arm that had risen a few inches off the bed. "That fact that we are seeing movement is promising. I'll be by a little later to check him again."
As the doctor left, Missy came in. "How's he doing Jim?"
"About the same." He sighed, feeling so frustrated that there wasn't a damn thing he could do. "He's still lifting his arm, so I guess that's good."
She sat in the chair on the other side of the bed, taking Blair's lax hand and moved closer to speak softly to him. Jim could have heard the words if he wanted to, but it seemed like an evasion of privacy and at least he could give that to Blair.
A nurse breezed in a few minutes later, checking lines and tubes, briskly pulling down the blankets and swabbing Blair's thigh to give an injection. After tossing the needle she hiked up the gown and looked at the dressing again, pressing firmly around the site, but Blair didn't stir.
Missy helped pull the gown back in place and they all helped gently roll Blair over to his side, rearranging pillows to support his back, placing one between his bent legs to keep pressure off his healing parts. The nurse breezed out just as quickly with a promise to come and turn Blair onto his other side in a few hours.
"How are you holding up, Jim?" Missy settled herself back into the chair, but Jim remained standing, feeling boxed into his own skin, needing to move around.
He paced to the window to look out over the parking lot, letting the afternoon sun warm his face. "I just wish there was something I could do…I don't know how, but I knew something was wrong, during the surgery, I should have done something." He didn't tell her that he could sense that Blair wasn't present when he'd seen him in recovery and how when they had found him twisted on the bed, something had changed.
Blair was back, just trapped inside somehow.
"What?" Missy wanted to know. "There was no way of knowing that Blair would have a reaction like this. You can't blame yourself."
"I do…I talked him into the damn surgery in the first place, even though I knew he had an aversion to doctors and hospitals. I should have…"
"Jim," She stood then, walking around the bed. "He needed the surgery; there were no other options…"
"I know, I know." He slumped back into his chair. "I just can't wrap my head around why this is happening. They already ruled out most possibilities. The nurse told me that sometimes they have to treat the underlining cause in order for the patient to come out of this state…what if we can't find the cause?
"We will and he will come out of it…think of it as if Blair was somehow overloaded. He just shut down and will come out of it when his body feels it's safe."
Jim sat thinking about what she had said. "Overloaded?" Like as in zoned out? "Can you stay with him for a bit, I need to run home and get some things for him?" He was already moving to the door before she even answered.
"Sure, no problem." She called as he rushed through the corridors and into the parking garage then to his truck, finally with a plan, feeling like he might be able to help Blair after all.
*~*~*
Blair felt heavy and muzzy, the floating feeling gone, the memory of the place he was at before fading, but still not able to fully connect with his own body.
He could hear people talking, cool hands touching him, but what they were saying and their intentions were beyond him.
His body hurt, but not like before, the pain was muffled and distant instead of sharp and fiery.
He didn't know how long he'd been like this; somehow he'd forgotten how to move his limbs.
He could open his eyes, but not due to any effort on his part. He wasn't conscious of opening them, just knew that at times they were closed and then as if waking from a dream he would be staring at something new.
Sometime later, the surface above him, a drop ceiling, his own voice told him, became his fuzzy view and then the imaged blurred and he could real pressure on his right side and thought he could see something even lighter…a window, his own voice seemed to whisper, but he didn't yet really understand and on some level he knew that he should know those sounds and their meanings, but that thought passed quickly and the slight panic that rose to the surface of his thoughts faded.
And then a new sound caught his wandering attention.
"…so, it's gonna be okay, you'll see…"
"…and then we went to the movies, remember…"
He knew he was hearing people talking…words, a distant part of his mind told him, but the sounds had no meaning.
He drifted along, riding waves of sensations his body didn't always recognize, except that he knew without a doubt that his nose itched, sometimes intensely, but he never seemed able to reach it to scratch it.
"…I'm just checking your incision…"
"…take a look. Can you look at me, Mr. Sandburg..."
The blurry view before his opened eyes shifted, something white and very bright passed across his field of vision.
"…the same…try another…"
A small pain pricked his skin somewhere in his body. His new existence was foggy and cold and he thought he felt his body vibrating, shivering.
Later, as the words and world around him floated into his conscience, and he began to understand them, he started to remember the place he had been.
He briefly remembered the all consuming fiery pain and then seeing his grandparents, but had he really seen them and Janet, of god, Janet and Roy?
Was he dead? Dead and destined to remain in the place he was now?
How could he know?
If he could go back, go home, how would he know he was safe, how could he know that the pain wouldn't come back?
As scary as those thoughts were, and he knew he should be afraid, he wasn't scared…something around him was shifting, something was changing…
"…Chief, just relax…something new…like a zone out…"
He knew that voice, it was safe…home, and so he listened.
"We'll start with touch…that okay with you, Chief."
Chief…was that him?
*~*~*
Missy moved from the chair, tucking Blair's hand back beside him to help Jim unpack some things from the bag he brought from home, curious. "It can't hurt to try," She said, eager to help once he explained what he wanted to do. Assuming it would be similar to therapies sometimes used for coma patients.
Jim couldn't tell her it was how Blair had gotten him out of his own zone outs.
While Jim busied himself setting up what he needed, she told him that Blair's doctor had been in and ordered a change of medicine, but Blair still wasn't responding like they had hoped. She warned that there had been whispers of electroconvulsive therapy as a next possible step.
Stunned, he stopped what he was doing. "You mean like electroshock?" Not quite believing what she was saying.
She nodded, plugging in the portable CD player Jim had brought with him. "It's not like it used to be in the 50's Jim. Most ECT machines deliver a brief pulse current, which is safer and more effective. It's not the first choice, but it could be a valid treatment."
Jim didn't care about its validity. No way in hell was he ever gonna allow them to shock Blair.
"I need to get to the U for a shift." She told him, laying out a few bottles on the rolling tray table, giving each one a curious glance. "Will you call me if anything changes?" she asked, leaning over Blair and kissing him lightly on the cheek. "I'll see you later Blair. Night Jim."
"Good night, Missy. I'll call you." He told her, walking her to the door.
The sun was just setting and the room was a little cool. He thought about asking to turn up the heat in the room, but Blair didn't seem to be uncomfortable, so he pulled the door partly closed and went over to the bed.
"Hey, Chief." Jim hooked the nearest chair with his foot, sitting down and taking Blair's hand in his. He's friend felt warm and alive, the blood rushing through his veins just under the surface of his skin, his heart pounding at a normal rhythm, alive and yet in total contrast to the stillness of the body that laid on the bed. "Just relax, buddy." He went on. "I want to try something new. Missy said what's happening is sorta like a zone out and I thought maybe I could use some of your own research to help you make your way back. We'll start with touch…that okay with you Chief?"
Jim noted a little twitch of one closed eye and said the word again. "Chief…can you hear me?" But the eye didn't move, nor did any part of Blair's face and Jim wondered if maybe he had imagined it.
Dropping Blair's hand, he pulled unscented lotion from the duffle at the bottom of the bed, pouring some out and rubbing the cream between his palms to warm it. Careful of the IV lines, he started with Blair's arms, working the lotion into skin at the shoulder and moving down to the bend of elbow, finishing with Blair's palms before moving on to the other arm.
He took his time, allowing his finger to linger on Blair's wrist, needing to feel the precious pulse that beat there. The machines had all confirmed life, but Jim needed to touch to be sure.
When he started out he decided not to talk, fearing that it would be too much stimulation for Blair, hoping that if Blair could just concentrate on one sensation at a time, he might be able to reach him.
But the sound of the quite was too deep, so he started to hum. Just a silly song he remembered from his own childhood. Something his mother used to sing him each night before bed.
Outside a gentle rain started, but soon the drops pelted the windows, ice crystals forming on their decent to the earth, but Jim ignored the extra sensory input, concentrated on Blair and his touch as he continued to hum.
Finished with the arms, he uncovered one leg, carefully using a soothing touch at Blair's thigh and then the kneecap, working the muscles of his calf and finally his foot. The process was repeated for the other side and when he was finished he looked at Blair's face. A small frown had turned down the corners of Blair's lips and Jim didn't know if that was good or bad.
But he could only press on, so he rolled Blair to his side, holding him at the hip and shoulder, using a gentle pushing movement to roll the limp body, propping pillows in the front of him to rest on so Jim could reach his shoulders and back. The muscles he found there were tense, which was surprising since the medicines Blair was on should have relaxed his muscles.
He used his thumbs to work the muscles at Blair's shoulders and then the flat of his hands to loosen the tight cords of his back.
When he was done and Blair was still so still he decided to try smell next. "I brought some things from home, your favorite cologne, that fruity shampoo you insist on using, some fresh ground coffee…"
Jim held each item up close to Blair's nose and waited a few minutes before switching to a new item. After going through everything he thought to bring, he put all the bottles back in the duffle. "So, not smell then…"
Jim dropped the duffle to the floor, turning on the CD player he had brought from home. Falling rain and wind emanated from the tiny speakers, crashing lightning and loud booming thunder came next, the sounds of a storm. Blair had gotten the CD as a gift from his mom a few years back, saying that he loved the sounds of a storm that he never slept better then when he was listening to the CD.
Thinking that the last thing he wanted was for Blair to sleep he reached over and turned off the player and just started talking.
"Ya know, if you needed a little break, we could have taken a weekend." He went on and on, talking about basketball and hockey, then the station and how everyone was sending him their best wishes. He talked about Simon and poker night and how Henry was just waiting for the next game to win some of his money back. He talked about Blair's mom and wondered if he should call her, but his question wasn't answered. He moved on to a current case, asking Blair's thoughts on his newest theory, but the man in the bed stayed quiet.
Hours passed but nothing changed and Jim started to think he was doing no good at all. He didn't want to believe that…couldn't let himself start to doubt that Blair would come out of it, didn't want to think about the proposed new treatment if the meds fell.
"Come on, Chief…will you just wake up already and tell me to shut up." He fell quiet then, running the palm of his hand up and down Blair's arm lost in thought, in his own little world. What would he do if he had a zone out now? There would be no one to help him, to help him find his way home. "Come on, Blair…I need you."
*~*~*
TBC
