The Tracy Family and Thunderbirds are the creation of Gerry and Sylvia Anderson
Fenestrae: Yeah, I think Jeff was definitely going for crispy fried or maybe even burnt black or maybe even complete annihilation! And he still might….if his boy doesn't make it.
Kate Maxwell: Yeah, you can come out now, it's safe. At least I think it is; that's just so long as you don't mess with his boys.
Rozzy07: Nice to hear a new name. Believe it or not he's my poor, sweet Scott too, only I know what's gonna happen to him and I think he's due a little break about now. NO! Not that kind of break, I'm not gonna break any more bones. Wonder what Daddy would do to me for doing all that to his boy!
FellowRiverrat: Well, Jeffy went all right and, he's prepared to keep right on going. So maybe we'd all better start praying his boy makes it or you guys can kiss goodbye to your United States Air Force, it may well be consigned to the history books if Jefferson Grant Tracy has anything to do with it.
Fiona Belagant: I think you're wise there, Fiona. I wouldn't want to mess with Jeff Tracy either. I think I'm gonna have to show him how much I really love his boy. And you needn't worry about his brothers, they do know Scott is injured; they just don't know the whole story, well, not until now, that is.
Author's Note: The information on wound management is accurate enough according to my research and my thanks again to my friend and medical advisor, FellowRiverrat, for the information and advice on the Subclavian Line. What's a subclavian line? Well you ought to know by now, this is an educational story; you learn something new all the time. We'll make nurses of you all, yet.
Chapter 81
The second day after they had left for Washington saw Virgil and his father heading back home, the mood still serious and quiet between the two men. Jeff had kept them updated on how Scott was doing; putting through calls from their hotel suite, only to find that he was in the throes of a raging fever with no signs of abating. It had only served to make the meeting with General Steve Ryder the following afternoon, exactly 24 hours after the first, all the more tense, as Virgil now reflected on how it had went.
This time there was no delay or obstruction when father and son entered the outer office, in fact, they were ushered through immediately and, this time, Virgil accompanied his father to hear the results of the ultimatum that had been laid down, for that's exactly what it had been. Both men could see how tired and drawn Steve was, which wasn't surprising, as he informed them he had been locked in meetings, on Jeff and Scott's behalf, all day yesterday since Jeff left, even continuing on through the night. But somehow, neither Jeff nor Virgil felt much sympathy, having been locked in their own private hell over this and feeling their own strain.
"Virgil," Steve acknowledged politely to which Virgil returned a rather sombre and curt, 'General Ryder', as he stood solidly at his father's side, neither men wanting the seat that Steve had offered them, choosing instead to stand. Steve smiled weakly, guessing that Virgil was none too happy about his brother's condition either. "Wouldn't you rather we discussed this in private, Jeff? he added, turning to his friend.
"There's nothing more to discuss, Steve. I said all I had to say yesterday. Virgil stays. We're only here to get your answer….and if you're going to tell us that the Air Force intends to protect this man…or give him a reprimand….then we're going straight to Tracy Enterprises to begin pulling those contracts and cutting all development dead," Jeff responded with blunt coldness.
General Ryder nodded understandingly then sat forward in his chair. "That won't be necessary, Jeff. It's been decided that Major Bauer has gone too far and you will get what you want….he is to be dishonourably discharged….though you know that will have to formally take place before a court martial. It will take a few days before one can be convened but as of today Major Bauer has been suspended from active duty," Steve gladly informed them, for in truth, what the man had done had sickened him and there was something about the man that made him feel uneasy.
Jeff and Virgil let out a sigh of relief, clasping each other's arms firmly in a show of support. Jeff turned to Steve Ryder; in no doubt what it was had swung the decision. "Well…at least we know now what seems to be more important to the Air Force…..and it's not the dedication and sacrifice a young man has given this Service and his country," Jeff responded with cool sarcasm.
His friend winced at the implication. "Jeff…I'm sorry….I wish it didn't have to be like that….I really went to bat for Scott you know…what happened to him was a truly terrible thing….," Steve began to say, though he understood why Jeff would feel somewhat cynical.
"You're right, Steve…it was a terrible thing…and that alone should have been enough to make this Force do the honorable thing," Jeff replied dryly. "And just in case you're wondering…..yes…I really would have done everything I said I would do," Jeff assured him. "Now….I believe you were going to give me proof," he added, being more astute than to just take his word for it.
General Ryder nodded, opened up an official looking file and handed over a document, on Air Force headed paper, for his friend to peruse. Jeff scanned down the document, nodded and handed it to Virgil and after he had read it he confirmed his agreement to his father. Virgil handed the document back to his father but instead of Jeff returning it to General Ryder he put it into his own file.
"Eh Jeff….you can't take that with you….that's an official Air Force document," Steve tried to remind him.
Jefferson Tracy looked at him with cold calm. "Oh yes I can, Steve….and it's precisely because it's an official document that I'm taking it…..you see there are a lot of top signatures on this….and I intend to see that your word is kept….for I swear, Steve….if I find that in a few weeks time…or even months….that this Major Bauer has been reinstated….in any capacity…..this document gets made public…along with everything else I said I would do…..is that clear enough for you…Steve," Jeff stated deliberately and concisely. "You've always got the copy."
General Steve Ryder knew there was no arguing with Jefferson Tracy on this one. "How is Scott, Jeff?" he asked carefully, wanting his friend to know he truly cared despite what Jeff felt about the Air Force.
Jeff looked supportively towards Virgil then back to Steve. "He's not good, Steve…..he's pretty much out of it….he's in the grip of a fever. I swear to you….if he….if he doesn't…..make…..," Jeff stumbled out, unable to stop the emotion that had been building up.
"Dad! Don't say that," Virgil begged, putting a comforting hand on his father's shoulder. Jeff winced a smile, glad of his second son's support.
"I'm all right, Virgil," he assured his son before turning back to Steve. Jeff took a deep breath to compose himself. "If he doesn't make it….I swear to you, Steve…..I will hit this Force with the biggest and most costliest, gawd damn, lawsuit in its entire history….to find out just who knew what this man was doing …..because somebody knew, Steve….somebody had to know…..I don't care if it's some independent section….he wore the uniform of the United States Air Force when he tortured my son and that makes the Force liable in my book……..and I won't care if it takes me the rest of my life," he promised.
Steve Ryder felt a cold chill run down the back of his spine, knowing his friend meant every word of what he said and, truthfully, he couldn't blame him for the anger he felt.
"Now….what about this Captain Decker?" Jeff asked, wanting to make sure he got his just desserts.
Steve shook his head slightly, though not in a negative gesture, more in a 'I don't think you're gonna believe this' kind of way. "Well Jeff….that's the strangest thing….I don't know whether you're going to believe this or not," Steve started to say.
"Try me," Jeff replied dryly. "Just so long as you tell me he has been dismissed."
"Oh yes, Jeff….he is to be given a dishonorable discharge too. But yesterday, when I started to make enquiries…after all this came to light…I discovered that Captain Decker had been admitted to the DiLorenzo TRICARE Clinic, right here in the Pentagon….he's undergoing psychiatric evaluation!" Steve informed them, wondering if they were going to believe what he told them.
"Well, I'll want that documentation too….so what happened to him?" Jeff asked curtly, though not out of concern.
"Well…it seems like once they arrived back in DC….Captain Decker suddenly went blind…and then he started raving about…..some Indian putting a curse on him! And he's….eh….worried that his eh …you know….is going to shrivel up and….eh…drop off! Says it's the curse! So he was admitted to the Psychiatric Ward in the Clinic. Of course when his discharge comes through he'll forfeit the Forces medical privileges and be sent to a civilian hospital. What do you make of that?" Steve asked curiously, DC referring to the name by which most Americans know the Capitol, Washington DC. He handed Jeff the document he had asked for, which Jeff added to his file.
Virgil and Jeff just stared at each other for a moment in mild astonishment. "An Indian….put a curse on him!" Jeff repeated, without giving anything away and looking to his son, who just shrugged his shoulders, as though the idea was too incredible. "And…did he say who this Indian was?" Jeff asked casually.
"No…that's another strange thing…he won't talk…or say where they've been," Steve continued to which Jeff commented, 'No, I bet he won't'. "He's too afraid something else bad will happen to him."
"And is this blindness permanent?" Jeff continued to ask, again though not out of concern.
"Well, that's another strange thing….the doctors can't find anything actually physically wrong with him," Steve told them, unsure himself what to make of it.
"Sounds to me like a guilty conscious. If he chose to look the other way and did nothing to help my brother then I'd say that's just poetic justice," Virgil stated coldly, having no sympathy for the man.
"I couldn't have put it better myself, Virgil," his father agreed.
"And another thing I found out, Jeff…..Major Bauer….apparently his right hand had just seized up….in a paralytic spasm. It turned in on itself and he can't open or close it…or hold anything….his hand is….. completely useless…and the doctors can't find anything physically wrong that would account for it either….it's the strangest, gawd damn thing," Steve expressed, never having heard anything like it in all his years of service.
"And is he claiming it's an Indian curse!" Virgil asked, trying to make it sound too incredible to be true.
Steve pulled his face in a slight grimace. "Well…not in the same way that Decker is ranting….he says it's a lot of mumbo, jumbo….but I believe he's pretty spooked by it. Neither of them are saying, though, what the circumstances are that would have made them cursed…presuming such things happen!" he answered as best he could.
"Don't expect us to have any sympathy," Jeff responded dryly. "By the way….is he right-handed?" he asked curiously.
"Yes I believe he is, Jeff. Why do you ask? Do you know something?" Steve asked with a measure of interest.
Jeff eyed his friend steadily. "And just what do you think I would know, Steve? Do you think I paid some Indian to put a curse on them?" he asked in such a way as to make it sound ludicrous.
Steve thought for a moment then gave his friend a nervous laugh. "No…of course not, Jeff….it's just it's all a bit strange," he admitted.
"I think you know me well enough by now, Steve. When I deal….I deal directly," Jeff reminded him. "And I see nothing strange about it….it probably psychosomatic….but whatever the reason….I agree with Virgil….it's poetic justice for what was done to my son," he added with cold, hard logic to which General Ryder tended to agree. "Well…now that the matter has been dealt with Virgil and I need to be heading home….we've a long journey ahead of us," Jeff concluded curtly.
And so it seemed that Cass's curse on Decker, becoming blind for turning a blind eye, was suitably apt and for Bauer, his hand becoming useless and unable to hold anything in a paralytic spasm, his hand turning against him also proved apt, for he had turned his hand to inflicting pain on the helpless and defenceless. That is, of course, if you believe in such things!
"Jeff…..you know I'm really sorry about what happened to Scott….I am shocked to think that this could happen. He's a fine young man…..and I really hope he's going to be all right," Steve called out, as Jeff and Virgil went to make for the door. He held out his hand in the hope that their friendship still stood.
Jeff stared at the outstretched hand for what seemed like minutes, taking a look at the man's anxious face. Eventually he reached out his own, acknowledging the handshake. "So do I, Steve….so do I…..or this isn't over by a long chalk," he replied solemnly. As they turned to go Steve suddenly noticed the pictures lying on his desk and he hastily gathered them to hand them back to Jeff. "You keep them, Steve……to remind you of what never should have been allowed to happen," Jeff added in a sombre and dignified tone. And with that both he and Virgil left, leaving General Steve Ryder alone in his office to reflect.
Now as they headed back across the ocean to their peaceful island home Virgil could no longer keep his thoughts to himself. "Do you really think Cass put a curse on them, Dad!" he asked, still not sure what to believe himself and being that Cass was the only Native American Indian they knew would have come into contact with the two officers he seemed the most likely candidate.
Jeff smiled quietly to himself. "Virgil….I believe there are strange things that happen in this world that there just is no explanation for. We are used to Kyrano's beliefs and customs, after all. We will all of us have to decide what it is we choose to believe on this one….but I know what I believe," his father answered honestly.
"And what do you believe, Dad?" Virgil asked with genuine interest.
"I believe in that proverb, 'What a man sows, that he will reap'….and I believe there are those put here to…remind people of that from time to time," Jeff replied diplomatically to which his son nodded in agreement.
"Dad! Are you gonna to tell John, Gordon and Alan what happened to Scott? They're gonna want to know how he's doin," Virgil asked, having suddenly thought of his other brothers.
His father sighed heavily. "Yes…..that same thought occurred to me too, Virgil. I don't think this is something I can keep from them…and besides….we just don't know how this is going to affect your brother….they need to understand when they get talking to him. I'll put through a call to them when we get back….and after we get the latest update on Scott," Jeff promised, for he felt he had already kept enough from them. They would be anxious about their eldest brother and this, after all, was a serious setback.
Once they had arrived back Jeff did as promised, first finding out how Scott was, which was no better and then going on to inform the rest of his sons. If the news of his previous condition, that he had been shot, came as a shock then this latest turn of events proved to be even more of a shock and they went through the whole gamut of emotions, from disbelief and concern to anger and rage, though Jeff was able to assure them the matter had been dealt with. When wanting to know why, their father had given them the same reason as he had given Virgil; that Major Bauer had been impatient and for that Scott paid a price. Jeff had also to tell them their brother was desperately ill with fever, which only added to their worry and they had all wanted to come home immediately but their father had told them that, right now, there was nothing they could do and they would be better waiting until their brother was well enough to come home when they would be of more support. They had been long and difficult calls, emotionally draining for Jeff Tracy, as he was not only trying to be positive and assure his sons that Scott would get well, he was also trying to desperately believe that himself. Virgil had offered to make some of the calls but it was something Jeff felt he needed to do as their father, to tell them personally.
They were also told not to tell their Grandmother and when they would eventually get talking to their brother they were to be careful about what they said. Jeff felt, though, it was only right that his mother should know her eldest grandson was seriously ill with fever, for she would only be asking how he was and he couldn't say he was doing well when he was far from it. She reacted as predicted and became very upset at the news and Jeff knew he had been right to keep the worst from her, both he and Virgil having to take time to assure her that Scott was a strong fighter and he would get through this, a silent wish they both shared.
Scott had no idea how long he had been out; the last thing he remembered was his hand falling away from the screen, from his family and everything fading into darkness. He awoke now to semi-darkness, guessing it must be well into the night; his room lit only by the soft glow from the lighting panel above his bed. He tried to focus his eyes but they just wouldn't clear; if he was coming to then why couldn't he wake up properly. Something was wrong, something was very wrong; he didn't feel right at all. It wasn't just that he was feeling the pain again from his wound and the continual pain from his ribs and shoulder but his head was pounding and his whole body felt like it was on fire; he was burning up and so thirsty.
"Wa…wat…water……plea…se. Ne…need….wa…water," he groaned, his eyes rolling hazily in his head.
Cass immediately got up from the chair he had been dozing in on hearing his plaintive call. His shift was due to officially finish after he had finished bathing Scott but he had insisted on staying and, in truth, Sarah Conley was happier that he did. She had decided to stay herself in the hospital that night, taking up residence in the nurse's room to sleep for a few hours.
On coming to his bedside Cass was immediately worried; Scott was perspiring heavily again and on checking his vitals he found the young Lieutenant's heart rate racing but more worryingly was that his temperature was soaring, having reached 103 degrees F and still climbing. Cass also saw what amounted to fear and panic in the young man's eyes as he approached him and he suspected that Scott was heading into delirium.
He was aware of a presence approaching his bed, someone was hovering over him and suddenly he felt fear and panic; his only thought was he had to get away. He tried to move out of the man's reach; his eyes wide with fear but the pain was excruciating and he was burning up. "No….no…st…stay…away…from…me. Le…leave…me…al…alone……won't…tell…you…any…thing," Scott moaned in his distress.
"Chey'nah…..it's only me….Cass. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise…..I'm going to help you," he said, seeking to assure Scott. Immediately he hit the comm.-link on the panel, accessing the duty night nurse. "Get me Captain Conley right away….she's in the nurse's room tonight. This is an emergency….Lt Tracy's room…stat," Cass instructed with some urgency.
Right away Cass filled a basin with lukewarm water, sat on his bed and began sponging him down in an effort to bring his soaring temperature lower.
"Wa…water….wa…water…..so…thir…sty," Scott groaned. He watched as Cass filled the spouted cup with ice cool water from the jug and tried to suck eagerly when Cass put the cup to his mouth but Cass would only let him have a little at a time.
As Cass continued to sponge him down Scott grabbed him with his trembling left hand, eyes wide with fear. "Got…to…get…out…of…here. Not…safe. Wo…won't…let…them…take…us…Cass. Got…gotta…pro…tect...us. Mu…must…get…to…the…LZ. Gotta…get…us…out…of…here. Not…safe…to…stay…they…they'll...find...us. Hel…help…me…Cass…..gotta…leave…..gotta…leave…now," he kept repeating, as his hallucinations became stronger. Scott Tracy was in the grip of a raging fever.
Cass put a comforting hand over his young patient's. "No Chey'nah….you are safe here…..you cannot leave….you are too ill," he told Scott, trying gently but firmly to reassure his young patient, though realising his delirium was getting steadily worse.
Scott increased his grip and he tried to haul himself up off the bed, his eyes becoming more fearful as he tried to make Cass understand. "No….do…don't…under…stand. Not…safe……we…have…to…leave…have…to…leave…now. They…do…bad…thi…things…real…bad…things. Gotta…get…us…outta…here…Jez…not…safe," he continued to rave and groaning with his pain but such was his urgency to leave he was overriding it.
Realising Scott was now talking about what he had seen Cass gently coaxed him, as he encouraged Scott to lie back again, gently releasing his grip. "What bad things have you seen, Chey'nah? I want to understand," Cass asked, as he continued to cool him.
"They…they…," Scott struggled to say, his face contorting in anguish and Cass could see that he was fighting the inner turmoil of his soul.
"Let it go, Chey'nah…..healing will begin when you sit in your fire…..when you sit in the midst of your pain," Cass encouraged him gently.
"No…no…NO! Don't…ask…me……don't…ever…ask…me," Scott gasped out emphatically, tossing and turning now in an effort to rid himself of the images. Scott was suffering more than just physically as his fever continued to burn within him, causing his body to be drenched in sweat. "Ple…ase….more...wa…water," he begged.
At his plaintive cry Cass put the cup to his mouth and Scott sucked hard on the spout, as though he couldn't get enough of the refreshing liquid but no matter how much he drank there seemed to be no relief.
It was at that moment Sarah Conley entered the room and rushed quickly to his side, concern etched on her kindly face at seeing how he was. Cass quickly filled her in on his symptoms and vital signs. "Damn!" she swore softly, as she checked over his vitals again. They both looked in alarm at seeing his temperature had now risen to 105 degrees F, though she wasn't entirely surprised when Cass had told her Scott was hallucinating badly now. "His wound must be infected, Cass," she surmised with concern. "I'd hoped we'd been able to clean that out but the damage was probably already done. Damn that man. Gawd…I just hope it's not MRSA, Cass.….though we can't rule out the possibility that it could be a delayed jungle fever that he contracted…..but we'll know that when we get a look at his wound," she added, as she considered all possibilities, for it would very much depend on the cause of his infection as to the course of treatment he would need.
And just what was the deep concern over MRSA? It may be the future but this virulent strain of bacterium was no easier to treat now that when it had first been discovered. MRSA or to give it its full title, Methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus Aureus is a bacteria commonly found on the skin and in the nose of quite a lot of normal, healthy people and causes no problems at all. The danger arises when it gets into an open wound, causing very serious infection and it had always been very hard to treat for, as its name suggests, it had become resistant to most antibiotics, in fact, it had become more dangerous because of its increasing resistance to every treatment. It could be passed on from the patient's own body or from person to person, making it highly contagious but since Scott had already been screened for its presence and found to be free of it, if he did indeed have MRSA infection then it could only have come from the Major for their hygiene routine here at the hospital was of the highest standard and they had not had a case in a long time.
Scott's eyes were wide with panic. "You…gotta…help…me…Cass. We've…gotta…get…away. We're…not…safe," he repeated again, becoming more agitated. Looking across at his right arm Scott frowned, those lines shouldn't be there, they were keeping him back, stopping him from getting away; he had to pull them out. Scott reached across with his other hand to pull at the IV and transfusion lines but was stopped in time by Cass, who had to pull his hand physically back. "You…don't…under…stand. We…have…to…get…to…the…LZ," he cried, not understanding why Cass was stopping him.
Well, Cass's reassurances that he was safe and in no danger didn't seem to be working, so there was only one thing for it; humor him. "I'll help you, Chey'nah…..we'll leave right away…..but why don't you let me carry you for a while…..you're tired. I'll find us a nice safe place….close to the LZ," Cass assured him with a smile.
Scott studied him for a moment; it seemed to settle him. "Yeah….all right…..gu…guess…I…am…tired…but…we…gotta…leave…now. Ca…can't…let…them…find…us," Scott insisted.
Cass gave Sarah a nod and she raised the bed to its highest upright point, giving Cass a smile for his quick thinking ingenuity for she really didn't want Scott becoming any more distressed than he already was. Cass again sat up close, put Scott's left arm over his right shoulder and held Scott supported against him as Sarah lowered the bed. "Come on, Chey'nah…..I've got you now, buddy. We'll get a good safe distance away and then we'll rest, huh," Cass said, talking to him as though they were close friends and keeping up the pretence of their escape.
Scott relaxed against him, his head falling over his shoulder and feeling content in his mind that they were making good their escape. He had to admit he was tired; he would let Cass carry him for a bit but then he would take over and look for food for them. "Gawd…it's…so…hot…out…here. Wish…it…wo…would rain. Gotta…cover…our…tracks…Cass…..can't…let…them…follow…us. Say…Jez…did…I…tell… you…about…that…fu…funny…little…guy…I…saw…in…the…trees. Fu…funniest…little…monkey…I ever…saw…like…a…little…old…man. Hey…there's…one. Jez!….you…see…it!" Scott called out, rambling now as he continued his imaginary journey through the jungle.
Sarah looked at Cass with worried concern, hearing for herself the extent of his hallucinations; his lapsing from Cass back to Jez proving he was falling deeper.
"Yeah Scott….I see him. You're right….he does look like a little man," Cass agreed, continuing to humor him and hoping that he wouldn't notice. He had to admit to feeling a little odd, calling Scott now by his proper name.
Now that he was laying against him Cass could feel how hot Scott really was. "He's really burning up, Ma'am," Cass told her, feeling damp already from the sweat and burning heat of his patient's body.
She rechecked his temperature to find it had risen to 105.5 degrees F. Working quickly Sarah removed the dressing and found herself automatically putting the back of her hand to her mouth and covering her nose, turning her head away at the same time in order to draw a fresh breath. She nodded to Cass that it was, indeed, his wound, though he guessed as much by her reaction and what he could see and smell of it himself.
His wound was well and truly infected; red and angry it was oozing with cloudy pus and on closer inspection red streaking could be seen going out from the wound in the direction of his torso. What had to be determined now was the cause of the infection and how best to treat it and for that wound swabs and blood samples had to be taken.
Cass assured her he could manage for a few moments while she got a swab kit, blood phials and necessary equipment to rewash and redress the wound.
Before getting the equipment together Captain Conley stopped off at the Nursing Station to quickly issue her instructions, time being off the essence. "I'm going to need wound swab and blood analysis so get someone down to the lab right away. Yes…I know it's late but this is urgent….tell them it's for Lt Tracy," she ordered when reminded of the late hour. "Oh…and get the duty doctor for me…..and if he's sleeping in the doctor's room….wake him….then come to Lt Tracy's room….I'll need you to take those swabs and bloods and get them sent to the lab…and make sure they know it's urgent," she called out, already on her way to get what she needed.
She reappeared within a short time to find Cass still talking to him, humoring him so she hurriedly prepared to take the swabs. Scott was groaning, though and moving about under the pain. Sarah told Cass that he was going to have to try to keep him still for she didn't want to hurt him unnecessarily.
There seemed to be only one way to do that. "Chey'nah…..there's someone coming…..we must hide….we must be quiet and keep very still," Cass urged him, as though their very lives depended on it and to Scott's fevered mind, they did. Cass felt him stiffen against him.
"Gotta…keep…still……can't…let…them…find…us," he repeated painfully.
Sarah Conley's heart went out to the young man right at that moment, as she watched him lie as still as possible, his eyes wide with fear, knowing that in his fevered mind he really believed they were in danger of being found and captured. She could see his face taut with the tension of holding back his groans, his absolute determination that he wasn't going to cry out and give away their position, even though she knew he was in extreme pain. She could have cried for him and in that moment she hated Major Bauer even more and wished he would suffer ten-fold what this young man was having to suffer right now.
Sarah took the necessary swabs as quickly as she could, feeling him move slightly and trying so hard not to, knowing he was longing to cry out but he wouldn't utter a sound. She knew then, as did Cass, the self-sacrificing spirit this young man had and the lengths to which he would go to protect his comrades.
Putting them in a their protective phials she handed them to the waiting duty nurse then drew off some blood from the cannula taped in place on the back of his right hand and after the correct information was written on them they were hurriedly sent on their way. Taking the opportunity of his lying still she loosened some of the sutures to allow the wound to drain but she could bare it no longer that he was trying so hard to be brave. Sarah nodded to Cass that it was all right for him to let go.
"It's all right, Chey'nah….they're gone now. We're safe…..and we can rest for a while," Cass told him.
"You…sure? They…really…gone? We're…safe!" Scott whispered and once Cass assured him they were he let out a soulful, agonised groan.
Captain Conley bathed his wound with a sterile, antibacterial solution but until they got the results back from the swabs and knew what they were dealing with they couldn't yet start him on anything to help him combat the infection. "I've called up the duty doctor, Cass. He's going to have to put in a Subclavian Venous Line….this infection could rage for days and our young Lieutenant's going to need nutrients….I doubt whether we could get him to eat. It's only for the short term and I really didn't want him to go through the discomfort of having an NG tube put in and pegging him's just far too severe," she informed Cass, keeping her voice low, to which Cass nodded and agreed with her assessment.
The procedures to which Captain Conley referred were methods by which a patient was fed by artificial means when they were incapable of taking in food normally. An NG tube, Nasogastric, to give it the proper title was a fine flexible plastic tube that went up through the nose, down over the throat and down into the stomach but since Scott's throat was bruised and swollen it was deemed to uncomfortable and even a little risky, given that he could choke. Pegging was a procedure whereby a flexible tube was passed straight in through the abdominal wall and into the stomach but this was more for long term use as it took a while for the wounds to heal once the tube was removed and it was felt it would not be wise to subject Scott to any more surgery just now as he was too weak.
The safest and by far the easiest solution was the Subclavian Venous Line, giving nutrients straight into the blood stream and was ideal for short term use of a few days. It involved the passing of a long needle and sheath in under the Clavicle or collarbone and once the needle was removed it left the thin flexible tube in place whereby the nutrients could be given.
As Sarah Conley continued to bathe his wound the duty doctor arrived, a kindly man in his mid-thirties with an already receding hairline. Captain Conley filled him in on her patient's condition, though he could see for himself how serious this was. He scanned down the data file at the latest vital readings and did a brief examination.
Scott was fearful of this new presence; he didn't know him, didn't trust him and it was all Cass could do to try to assure him the doctor was a friend. The doctor smiled sympathetically, understanding the nature of his fever and went to have a look at his wound. He nodded approvingly that all that could be done was being done.
"All right…let's use an Iodine preparation on this now to cleanse the wound….and continue to use that every time you change the dressings. And we'll use the silver wound dressings now until this heals," the doctor instructed to which Sarah Conley acknowledged, entering it on the patient data file for whoever would be on duty.
Of course, when the doctor referred to silver wound dressings he didn't mean the dressings themselves were silver in color but rather that they were impregnated with silver compounds and used for the treatment of wound infections. Once in place the silver compound was slowly released into the wound in concentrations that are selectively toxic to micro-organisms, such as the bacteria that caused the infection.
When the new dressing was in place Cass urged him to rest and the process of laying him down was reversed. Scott, though, became agitated, saying he needed to go and get them food and trying to get up but Cass assured him he would go and hunt them food, that everything would be all right and that he should rest. Sarah was truly glad Cass had stayed for she was sure no one else could have handled Scott the way he had and the young man would probably have been a lot more distressed, however, there was one procedure left to do and no one knew how he would react.
Scott reacted badly, as the doctor approached, with Cass having to try and physically restrain him. His eyes were wide with fear at seeing the needle; he shook his head, looking from Cass to Sarah and it broke her heart to see the distrust he now looked at them with, as though they were failing to protect him as they said they would.
"No….no….don't…let…him…do…this…to…me. Help…me…Cass. Why…why…are…you…let…letting…him…do…this. Wo…won't…tell…him…any…thing," Scott cried, fearing this was another attempt to torture him.
The doctor had been made aware of the torture that this young man had suffered and, like everyone else, was totally appalled; he was, of course, sympathetic but the procedure needed to be done and Scott needed to be kept still. He asked Cass if there was anything he could do to do it because he really didn't want to have to put Scott under, not when he was like this.
Cass guessed the same trick wouldn't work again in distracting him, not now that Scott was aware of the stranger's presence and kept watching him distrustfully and, he had seen that needle. "Chey'nah! Look at me. Look at me, Chey'nah….and keep watching me," Cass urged him firmly, at the same time Cass gently but firmly took a hold of his left wrist and held it down, pinning his arm to the bed. Eventually Scott took his eyes from the doctor and looked at Cass. Cass gave him a reassuring smile. "Keep your eyes on me, Chey'nah….do not look down. No Chey'nah….keep your eyes on me," Cass told him when Scott felt the temptation to look at what the doctor was about to do.
"I will sing you a song of honor, Chey'nah….for you have showed bravery and courage….and my people would honor you with a song. Sing with me, Chey'nah….together we will sing this song of honor….it is strong medicine," Cass encouraged him. He started a slow and rhythmic chanting song, urging Scott to follow him as he kept eye contact.
The words were new and strange to him but gradually, little by little, Scott tried to follow his words, doing his best to join in and getting lost in the almost hypnotic quality of the melodic sound. Cass smiled to himself for he knew had he asked Scott to join him in a song when he had first tended him it would have brought a snort of derision from his young patient, though he knew it was only because he was in the throes of a fever and probably didn't even realise he was doing it.
Cass gave the doctor a silent nod to go ahead and he increased the volume of his singing to help keep Scott distracted. Scott tried hard to concentrate on what he was saying, on what Cass was singing; he found it soothing and comforting but he couldn't help the deep groan as he felt the needle push deep under his collarbone, the doctor having chosen his left since his right was broken. At last it was in; the needle slipped out easily leaving the tube in place and the doctor covered the entry with a light dressing and all sighed with relief.
Scott was tiring, though his fever still raged and he was fast becoming lost in an almost hypnotic dream state that the singing had created, his eyes beginning to roll in his head. However when Cass released his wrist Scott automatically went to reach for the line in his upper chest, feeling an irritant that shouldn't be there. Cass had to restrain him but try as he would Cass couldn't convince him to leave it alone and every time he let go of Scott's wrist he kept going to pull it out.
Sadly all three had to agree on the same solution.
In his hazy dream-like state Scott could see Cass wrapping something round his wrist but he was too weak and fevered to stop him and soon he couldn't move either arm, struggling until he could struggle no more against whatever was restraining him.
What Cass had done was to wrap a soft strapping around his wrist and then secure it to the side of the bed, effectively pinning his arm to the bed to stop him pulling his line out. It was also decided to strap his right arm as well for even though it had been too painful to move before it was felt with Scott's strong will that if he couldn't use his left he would attempt to use his right hand no matter how painful it proved and they just couldn't take that chance.
It was a heartbreaking sight for all concerned especially when he looked so puzzled and bewildered as to why he felt restrained, when he asked with pleading eyes, "Why! Why…are…you…doing…this…to…me? We…have…to…get…to…the…LZ…Cass. I…have…to…get…you…there."
"Chey'nah….you did get us to the LZ…..we were rescued….don't you remember? You saved us," Cass tried to assure him, blending his fevered, imaginary escape with what actually happened.
"We…were…rescued? Try…to…rem…rem…ber," he asked himself, searching his fading memory but it was getting harder and he was so hot, burning up. He begged for more water, which Cass gave him. He vaguely remembered now the 'whomp, whomp' of the Huey's rotors and gradually his words gave way to incoherent mumbling as his fever intensified.
It had been over an hour since the swabs and blood samples were sent to the lab and so far all they'd been able to give him was something for the headache but the technicians had worked round the clock to get them the results. A pulsating light on the patient data file told Captain Conley that fresh information had been added and hoping it was what they were waiting for she lifted the file and scrolled down.
She handed the file to the doctor and both gave a satisfactory nod and huge sigh of relief. It was not the dreaded MRSA infection. The doctor quickly ordered up the appropriate antibiotic therapy to treat this particular infection and soon the bag was hooked up and attached to his IV drip. A booster shot was also given straight into the cannula to get it into his system right away to help his body begin to fight the infection.
Now all they could do was wait, hope and pray; pray that the young man had enough fight left in him, that his will was strong enough to see him through.
After the doctor had left Sarah turned to Cass and urged him to go take a rest, that she would take over for a while but Cass insisted on staying, saying that she should finish her sleep as it had been interrupted and besides, there were things he needed to do.
"Native American things, Cass!" Sarah ventured curiously.
He just smiled. "But if you wouldn't mind waiting, I think I might need to go and change my tunic….I'm just a little damp!" he replied with a wry smile, pulling his sticking tunic out from him. It was a definite understatement, for the whole front of his tunic was soaked right through from his young patient's sweat.
Within a short while he was back and Sarah Conley couldn't help but notice he appeared to be holding a deerskin bag.
