What a Pain! - Chapter Eleven
Very early the next morning, Sir Pain made it clear that he wanted three things and he wanted them immediately. First, he wanted Johnny to wake up, second, he wanted to go outside, and third, he wanted food! A quick chomp to the fireman's nose achieved the first goal. "Yow! Damned cat!" Johnny yipped as he was startled awake.
Pain ambled away towards the patio doors, unfazed by the outburst, and waited for the human to let him out. Johnny noticed it was a gray and drizzly morning; a rather miserable start to the day. He curled his lip in amusement though, when he noticed a rather vexed Sir Pain trying to dodge raindrops on his way to the garden. "Ha! Serves you right for biting my nose, you ornery furball!" he called out the door.
After calling the man who boarded his horses to let him know the farrier would be coming out, Gage put on the coffee, fed the fish, watered the plants and generally tidied up before jumping in the shower. It was a close call for Sir Pain as Johnny nearly forgot about him. Just as he was about to leave the kitchen, he noticed the soggy cat glaring at him from the other side of the patio doors. "Hee-hee-hee, I should just leave you there for a while, you little cuss," he smiled.
Instead of following through with his threat, Johnny relented, let the cat in and even towel-dried him. Mostly. Sir Pain seemed grateful enough and purred his way over to his food dish while Johnny made his way to the shower. During his shower, Johnny had an idea. Before he left for the day, he dashed out to the Rover and retrieved his camera. With only five shots left before the film was used up, he took a few nice photos of Sir Pain-in-the-Butt. If he could get the pictures back in a day or two, he might be able to bring them to Mike in the hospital.
Johnny was growling about the too-rare rain as he dropped the film off at the camera store. As he then drove to the station, Johnny thought about Mike's situation. He figured Mike would have the right to be depressed and angry about this, but also knew that Mike was a strong and resilient man. If anyone could make the best of a situation, Mike Stoker would be that person. It would just take some more 'waiting and seeing'.
When Mike awoke, he felt like shit and told the nurse exactly that. The oxygen tubing irritated his skin, the IV site was itchy, he was tired of being in bed, his face hurt, his shoulder hurt, his hand hurt...he felt cranky and foggy and thirsty and homesick...for his cat? Okay, so feeling pain and being homesick were warranted. His mom and sister were there and...he desperately wanted to go home and be normal again.
Unaware that he had had a second seizure the night before, his mind kept wandering back to the news of the first one. Until Dr. Early came in, Mike would have some time to do some serious mulling about this. Everyone told him it could very possibly be temporary, so he'd just have to believe it. But that...was hard. He wasn't by nature one to wallow in self-pity, but he had to admit that this really had him rattled. Dr. Early had reassured him that the surgery had gone very well, so he expected everything to work itself out. In the meantime, he had more healing to focus on. His stitched hand had started to ache and the bruises on his face and shoulder were causing him more pain than he ever thought a bruise could cause. He lay back on the bed, closed his eyes, and waited for the nurse to bring the pain relief.
Mike was grateful that his nurse was Wendy Hoskins, a friend and former neighbor. She'd been at Rampart for many years and would be sure to lend an ear if ever Mike needed one. Wendy had raised the head of the bed so that he was sitting up and turned the TV on for a distraction while she took care of him. There wasn't really much on the TV, so he picked up the newspaper someone had left. Trying to concentrate on the print, Mike was pleased that the words focused easily. He got through the first four pages before his eyes tired and he decided to try again later.
As Wendy checked Mike's bandages and I.V.s, and injected the morphine, she told him later on they would be letting him walk a bit and that he could have some real food if he was up to it. Mike really was hungry, but the morphine was making him a little loopy already, and as it quickly took effect, he tried hard to keep up the conversation. It didn't work very well.
"Heyy, Wendy...I suuure would like...um, hey, how about some ca-cabbage?" he asked Wendy.
"Cabbage, Mike? Really?" She giggled.
"Ohhh, not just caabbage... I wwant... c-corned beef too. Chet m-makes the bessst." He paused for several moments, then met her eyes with a serious gaze, "Hey, yyyou know what?" he asked Wendy though a pleasant haze, "I looove pain rrrelief. I f-feeel... oh, just nice. Yep, I f-feel nice."
He chuckled softly when he thought about 'pain relief' and then imagined his cat, Pain, relieving himself. "Ohh, that's f-funny," he said aloud, not realizing he was making very little sense at all by that point.
Wendy was glad he was at least in a better mood, even if the credit went to the Morphine. The nurse on shift before her had told her all about the seizures, and Mike's tears as well and it made her heart ache. She smiled and left her friend as he battled the pain meds for control, knowing he didn't stand a chance.
A short while later, Wendy met Mike's family in the hall, his mother walking slowly and stiffly, appearing many years older than she actually was. Still, a smile graced her lips as her daughter patiently helped her towards Mike's room. Wendy thought about Mike's tussle with Morphine and wryly wondered if he'd be asleep or prattling more nonsense by the time the ladies got there.
The guys at the station were unusually subdued of course. It was never quite the same 'vibe' there when one of their own was sick or injured, but Mike rarely ever took his turn in that area. Although the engine crew always desired a slow day, secretly, Johnny hoped they had at least one run to Rampart so he might be able to check in on their engineer. Five hours into their 24 hour shift, he got his wish.
In the meantime, Mike had been checked, poked, prodded, quizzed and charted before Dr. Early gave him the okay to leave the ICU for a regular room. A meal and a slow and easy walk up and down the hall to check his balance along with the absence of any additional seizures or other side effects, and Mike was good to go. Dorothy and Jeannie followed Mike and his nurse to the new room and helped get him settled in. Just the change in scenery, and having a big window in the room, helped Mike put his mood on a higher level. Despite the gloomy rain and clouds, he was determined to beat back the depressing demons trying to bring him down. If all went well, he'd be discharged in just a few more days.
Dr. Early saw Johnny and Roy strolling in and happily gave them the update on Mike. "Hey, we have a few minutes to check in on him, don't we Roy?" Johnny asked. "As long as we stay available from here, right?" After last night's seizure, Johnny was eager to have some good news to bring back to their captain, and happily, there was plenty.
Mike's heavily wrapped head now sported only a large white bandage on the side to cover the surgery site. His face was still a mass of bruising, but there were hints of yellow there as well, attesting to the ongoing healing. Mike was chatting and if Cap hadn't mentioned Mike's problems with his speech, they might not have noticed right away. It sounded merely like a slight stutter now.
"Hi, g-guys," Mike greeted when he saw them peek in. Dorothy and Jeannie had gone to get a late lunch and make a few phone calls. The morphine was beginning to wear off and although he was more clear-headed than earlier, Stoker was hoping the medics wouldn't stay too long. He knew he would get sleepy and possibly silly again, and really didn't want that witnessed by someone who wouldn't let him forget it. They were sitting in chairs to the side of the bed when Jeannie came back.
"Mighty," she addressed her brother, "we're going to wander around the gift shop for a bit; mom says she needs to keep walking. Do you need anything? How about a Hershey bar?"
Roy and John both stifled a chuckle, looked at each other with amusement, and said in tandem, "Mighty?"
Mike loved that Jeannie still called him 'Mighty', but was embarrassed that his friends had heard the nickname. He was doomed now!
"Yyeah, I-I'm 'Mighty', what o-of it?" he psuedo-snarled.
"Nothing!" Roy added quickly, putting his hands up. "Nothing at all!"
"Right, uh, 'Mighty'...uh, wait now, is Mighty your given name or your actual surname? I mean, are you Mighty-Mike or Michael Mighty?" Johnny cracked himself up and took Roy with him. Jeannie giggled and Mike blushed.
"N-neither. I-i-its a-actually, 'Mighty a-able to k-kick your asses'." he stated with a thinly veiled growl.
As Johnny was about to make another wisecrack, the HT sounded and called them away. "Take care, pal, we'll be back later..I hope!" Still chuckling, he and Roy trotted away.
Mike knew Johnny and Roy would tell everyone at the station about this and figured the time would come when he'd have to explain how he got the name "Mighty". Or, maybe he wouldn't explain and instead let it add to that smoldering Stoker-mystique. Whatever. He rolled his eyes, smiled and cozied down for another nap as Jeannie went back to the gift shop for a Hershey bar. The explanation could wait.