Ben arrived at 7:30, and Douglas had to admit he was a little surprised he'd come.
"Didn't think I'd show up, did you?"
Douglas shrugged a little. "I wouldn't have bet either way."
Martin's hand squeezed Douglas' at the mention of betting, as if to scoff at him.
"Oh, awake now, are you?" Douglas said wryly. He turned back to Ben. "I believe Martin disagrees with my previous statement, that I would have bet on it, if I had someone to bet with. Like if someone was conscious for more than ten minutes at a time."
Martin only rolled his eyes.
"Do you want to sit up more?" Douglas asked. Martin's bed was already in a semi-upright position to help with his breathing, but it was still an uncomfortable angle for trying to hold a conversation.
He nodded, and Douglas did the heavy lifting. AKA, he pushed the buttons. Ben held the breathing tubes up and repositioned them when Martin was more upright, making sure he was comfortable.
"Hello Martin," Ben said, looking at him. "We met yesterday, although I don't think you'd remember me. I'm Ben."
Martin shook his head slightly.
Ben nodded. "You were mostly unconscious at the time. You're looking better though. How do you feel?"
Martin shrugged his shoulders slightly.
Ben laughed. "Sorry, you don't get better overnight. Another couple of days before you're ready to fly your aeroplane."
Martin glanced at Douglas suspiciously.
"Hey, don't look at me. I'm pretty sure I didn't tell him anything about flying. Except he saw the pyjamas."
At the mention of the pyjamas, Martin's face contorted into what Douglas was sure would have been a cry of anguish had his vocal cords been able to vibrate.
He tried to sit up, or maybe roll over, or do something that wasn't quite working out. All he managed to do was yank on his IV line and make the heart monitor warn him to stop.
Douglas saw Ben push the call button before throwing an arm across Martin's chest, trying to keep him from hurting himself.
"Martin, calm down. It's alright. The pyjamas aren't that bad. Martin, please stop," Douglas pleaded, holding down the arm with the IV in it.
Simen appeared in the doorway.
"What's going on?" he asked simply.
"He's agitated," Douglas said, as if it wasn't obvious.
That was all Simen needed to hear.
"I'll get a sedative," he said, and dashed out. He came back in a second later with a syringe similar to the one he'd used last night, and injected it into Martin's IV line.
"It's alright Martin," he soothed, helping Douglas hold his arms down after disposing of the needle.
Martin's struggling slowed, and then stopped as his eyes drifted shut.
"What was that about?" Simen asked, checking over Martin's IV sites and various other tubes and wires to make sure nothing was displaced.
Douglas shook his head. "I'm not entirely sure. I mentioned the pyjamas he was wearing when he came in, and then he just tried to..." He shook his head again.
"It's not unusual," Simen told him, making notes on Martin's chart. "Sometimes people who are intubated just get agitated and there's no clear cause. It's hard when you can't speak and are feeling awful or need something. He'll sleep for a couple of hours."
Ben nodded at what Simen said.
Douglas smiled to himself. If Martin was awake, they could make a game of 'Simen says'.
Maybe tonight.
"Well, I've got to get to my shift," Ben said, getting to his feet. "I'll stop by after my shift again tonight, if that's alright. Or I can wait until morning."
"Morning would probably be better," Douglas said.
Ben nodded. "Sorry about what happened."
"Not your fault," he told him.
Irene stuck her head in.
"What's not Ben's fault? Because he's great for blaming."
"We had to sedate Martin," Simen told her, looking up from his note making. "Give me a minute and I'll fill you in." He flipped the cover back on the chart and hung it on the end of the bed, speaking rapidly to Irene in Norwegian again. She nodded at the proper places, asked a few questions, and frowned slightly near the end, probably when Simen was telling her about having to sedate Martin.
She murmured to him, holding his arm, and then corrected herself, realizing he couldn't understand.
"Can he even hear you?" Douglas asked.
"Right now, probably not since we sedated him, but it's always a possibility. And even if he's not listening on a conscious level, some part of him is picking it up. There's been a lot of research done on comatose patients and how their brain waves react when people are speaking."
Douglas hummed.
"I'm off then Douglas. Any questions before I go?" Simen asked.
Douglas shook his head, a nice change from nodding.
"I'll see you again tonight then," he said with a pat to the shoulder.