Thank you so much for the reviews for this story. Here is the final part for you to snicker at. At least, I hope it makes you laugh.
'A'ole, nein,non, nada, nyet, NO!
by Cokie
~~~H50~~~
Chapter 2
~~~H50~~~
Still Thursday evening...
Ellen came back in near eleven with her arms loaded once again. "I've got something else for you to wear," she warned him.
Steve opened his eyes and groaned. "What now?"
"Compression socks to help with your circulation. "Just lay still, I'll get them on you. They pump air through the membranes in the rubber socks. Don't worry, you'll get used to the feeling."
He reached for some ice, watching the clock on the wall. "I've got an hour left and I'm going to eat as much of this as I can."
She grinned. "If I brought some applesauce, would you try to eat it?"
He thought, then shrugged. "Yeah, it kinda sounds good."
"Good, it might actually help you sleep to have a little something on your stomach. I'll get it when I finish here."
Steve was eating his applesauce near midnight when his phone rang. He grabbed it and saw Danny's face on the screen. "Hey! Isn't it kind of late there?"
"No, in fact it is early. Very, very early," Danny replied. "I really had forgotten just how long that flight was."
"Everything OK?"
"That's my line," Danny said, but then added, "Yeah, we're at my sister's house. Grace was excited, but finally crashed a while ago. Unfortunately I'm still wired. Now... what's going on?"
"Had an endoscopy today and they took a couple stones out of a bile duct. Supposed to get the gall bladder out tomorrow. Or, so they say. I'll believe it when it happens."
"It will happen. Are you having any pain?"
"No, nothing. Just a scratchy throat. They finally let me have some ice, but are cutting me off at midnight."
Danny heard him slurp another piece of ice. "So, I take it, you're eating ice right up until midnight?"
"Down to the minute," Steve assured him. "Hey, I was thinking, why are you coming back this weekend? Go ahead and stay a few days."
"Can't. Grace has an Aloha Girls banquet on Sunday night, and in her words, "Her life will be over if she missed it. And we can't have that."
"No, I guess not. OK, I guess I'll see you Sunday."
"Yeah, don't give them too much grief there, you hear me? Mind your manners, Steven."
"Yes, Mom."
"Hey, speaking of, have you called-"
"NO! And don't you dare."
"Calm down, just asking," Danny laughed. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. Or later today. Or whenever it is. Maybe jet lag has set in."
"Get some sleep, Danno."
"You, too. Later."
~~~H50~~~
Steve remembered Ellen changing out his antibiotic right after midnight and then he slept. In fact, he didn't wake up until 3:50, when a voice called his name.
"Commander McGarrett?"
"Hmmm?"
"Commander, I'm Dr. Swenson from Anesthesiology. I understand you had an endoscopy yesterday and want to make sure you are feeling OK after the anesthesia."
"Yeah?"
"So, how are you feeling?"
A little sleepy, you idiot. "OK. Sleepy."
"All right. That's good to know. You take care of yourself."
As he left, Steve looked at the clock. You wake me up before 0400 just to ask how I feel?
That was it for sleep for a few hours. In rapid succession, Steve had visits from the nurse, the aide, the lab tech, another anesthesiologist when Steve said an anesthesiologist had just been there, it was explained that the other one was for yesterday's endoscopy, this one was here for today's surgery... apparently everyone has a specific job, the nurse again, and someone from the surgeon's staff. Each of them asked name, birth date and half of them also wanted an update on medication and Latex allergies.
After all, one may have developed overnight.
You just never know.
Somewhere in all that, he finally fell back asleep while listening to the swoosh of his feet in those silly blue tubes blowing air. When he woke again, another nurse was in the room and it was 0930. He blinked in the morning light coming from the window, and scrubbed the sleep from his eyes.
"Good morning," Leilani said. "Sleep well?"
"Unh. Yeah, I guess. That is after everyone quit coming in the room."
"Yes, unfortunately it is like Grand Central Station here in the mornings. Do you need to get up?"
"Yeah, I do," Steve quickly replied, then looked down at his feet. "How do I do that?"
"We can get rid of them for a while," she assured him, unplugging the 'socks' from the air supply. "I still don't have a time for your surgery, so who knows when they will show up."
Steve sat on the side of the bed and winced, which immediately got her attention.
"What's up? Stomach acting up?"
"No, my headache's back," he mumbled while standing and reaching for the IV pump.
"I'll get the Tylenol," she said. "Call me if you need help getting back to bed."
~~~H50~~~
Two hours and two Tylenol later, the headache was worse. Light was coming in through the slats in the blinds on the window and it felt like a strobe light piercing right into his brain. Finally, he placed a pillow over his head and tried to ride it out.
"Commander McGarrett, are you in there?" a voice asked.
"Max? Headache."
"Ah. I see. But unfortunately it has been proven that suffocation is not an effective means of ridding oneself of a headache."
Steve pulled off the pillow. "You sure about that?"
"Unfortunately, yes," the coroner replied, one side of his mouth quirking up in a smile. "Other than the headache, how do you feel?"
"Hot, sticky, bored, tired..."
"Cranky," Max added.
"You sound like Danny."
"Just my medical opinion," Max replied. "This should be over very soon. And then you can return home."
"Not soon enough," Steve vowed, then looked up when Leilani came into the room followed by a gurney.
""It's show time," she announced. "Are you ready to get this over with?"
"Finally," Steve muttered.
"I will check on you later, Steve. Good luck."
"Thanks, Max."
"Can I have your name and birth date?" the orderly inquired.
"Steve McGarrett, 3.10.77," he said while scooting from the bed onto the gurney. He quickly was situated and they moved him out into the hall to collect the chart, etc. Once in the hallway with the bright lights blaring down, he took the pillow from behind his head and put it over his eyes again, knowing that the movement would do him in. And throwing up with an empty stomach would not be pleasant.
He was fine until the elevator doors closed and the small car dropped. "Unnnhh," came the indistinguishable word from beneath the pillow.
"Are you OK?"
"Let's just say that you should be very glad I haven't eaten for a while."
When they reached pre-op, Steve saw that it was 1330 and he had hope that once this was over, he could be home before the night was over. More labs were drawn, his vitals taken, EKG leads stuck all over him and more people repeatedly asked his name and birth date. Like every time the same person came into his room.
They certainly believed in security around here. No chance of identity theft.
Anesthesiology was back and asked for his history... again. As if it wasn't all recorded in that chart the lady was flipping through. So, he dutifully recalled everything once again. But when she was finished, she was kind enough to turn out the light which was glaring in his eyes as she left.
And then he waited.
Again.
He kept one eye on the clock as 1430 came and went. Along with 1530 and 1600. People came in occasionally to check on him, but no one had any idea how long this holding pattern would be. Apparently when the doctor called to say he was leaving his office and to prep the patient... well, that didn't mean he would be here in this millennium.
The last straw was another anesthesiologist entering the room, asking the same questions as the person before.
"Look, I just told someone all this three hours ago."
The man apologized. "I do understand. Unfortunately, her shift is over and I am taking over for her. Just give me the Cliff's Notes version and I'll read the chart."
But they were spared the Cliff Notes when a nurse entered. "Dr. Bennett is prepping in the OR, so when you two are ready, we're set to go. Would you like a pre-op to relax you?"
"Hell, I'm relaxed enough. Let's just do this!"
"Then let's go," the anesthesiologist said, leaving the room. "See you there."
Steve quickly was wheeled up to the doors to the OR where the nurse stopped and retrieved a nice little baggy to fit on his head. "You need a party hat to join the fun," she told him, pushing open the doors to the frigid room where he was met by the anesthesiologist and a nurse who helped him scoot onto the operating table.
This was also rather foreign to him. Any time he had had surgery in the past, he had been unconscious or so overly loopy at this point that he didn't remember any of this. This room looked pretty daunting. He was covered in a warm blanket and then they stole his gown.
"OK, I'm going to give you some oxygen by mask to open your airway and then I'll start the anesthesiology through your IV." The mask was placed over his nose and mouth and he wanted to tell them that he was suffocating and in no way was his airway opened.
He raised his arm in protest to the inability to breathe, but then, all of a sudden, it didn't matter one way or the other.
~~~H50~~~
Sound came back first. Loud sounds. One woman was complaining that 'he' hadn't paid any attention to her last night at the party. Steve remembered they had given him a party hat earlier and he sincerely hoped she wasn't talking about him because he couldn't even remember the party at all.
Then he realized she wasn't talking to him. Besides, he had... what's her name... oh, yeah, Cath to go to parties with.
He tried to open his eyes, but green lights were dancing on two panels in his line of vision. And that made him dizzy, so he closed his eyes and tried to decide where he was.
Space ship.* Maybe the party was on a space ship. Cool. Never been to a party on a space ship before.
"Commander?"
Now she's talking to me.
"Are you awake yet? Can you open your eyes?"
"Hmm, lights."
"Sorry, I've turned them down as much as I can. How do you feel?"
"M'good."
"Do you need anything for pain?"
"Not sure."
"I want to keep you comfortable. Any nausea?"
"No." This doesn't sound like a space ship any more. Bummer.
"That's good. Get some rest. We'll get you back in your room soon." He heard her ask for something called Toradol and he didn't know what it was, but he felt it when it rushed through his veins. He still didn't know what it was, but he thought he liked it…
He woke up when the gurney began to move. And again when they left the elevator. And next when they asked him to climb into bed.
And then he slept.
* The space ship with the green flashing lights was my first waking thought. :)
~~~H50~~~
Steve woke and yawned, and then stared at the clock, trying to make sense of the time. He looked toward the window and decided it was still Friday. The clock read 8:00 which meant he had slept for a few hours after the surgery. He felt his stomach under the gown, finding four separate small bandages, the largest one over his belly button. And that one kind of hurt. Nothing major, but he wouldn't say no if someone wanted to make it stop. He was also thirsty again and couldn't wait until someone came in bringing more ice.
Unfortunately, he was sorely disappointed.
Ellen was back for the night and she came in a few minutes later, waking Steve up. He looked at the clock again and realized more time had passed and that he must have fallen asleep. Again. This was getting to be a habit.
"How are you feeling?" she asked while checking the IVs.
"I'm fine," Steve replied. "But I'm thirsty. Can I have more ice?"
"Ooh, sorry, Commander. You're still NPO since they have you scheduled for an ERCP at noon."
"No, I had that yesterday," Steve reminded her.
"I just got the orders. Apparently there is another stone that made its way into the bile duct before surgery. The surgeon tried to get it out but was unsuccessful, so you need another endoscopy."
Steve stared. Surely he didn't hear her correctly.
"You have got to be kidding me!"
"No, and just be glad they decided to do the procedure on Saturday. Many times, they would hold you over until Monday morning."
"How about if I leave and come back?"
Ellen grinned and shook her head. "I don't think the doctor would approve of that. Besides, once they let you go, I'm guessing you would 'forget' to show back up."
He huffed. "You know, on Wednesday when I got to the hospital, I was told this was outpatient surgery and I would be home early the next day. Someone lied."
"Yeah, sometimes these things happen. But if you hadn't had the stones in your duct, things would have been easier. Let me go make a call and see if I can feed you."
"I just want ice. Still not hungry."
"OK," she replied, walking out of the room. "I'm not promising anything."
But she came through for him and he did get another jug of ice… and the same midnight deadline to stop eating it, but by midnight he was sound asleep, so he missed his own deadline.
After surgery, apparently hospitals don't give you the luxury of sleeping for four hours during the night. He was awakened at least every hour by someone wanting his name and birth date who then proceeded to stick him, poke him or pull up his gown to look at his belly.
Was there anything sacred in this place?
Steve had just about reached his limit and was beginning to hear Danny's voice in his head telling him to "go to his happy place". He wasn't sure just where that place was, but he knew it wasn't here.
He was just dozing off again when he heard another voice call to him.
"Commander?"
He ignored her.
"Commander, can you wake up for me?"
Nothing.
He felt a touch on his arm. "Come on, Commander, can you tell me your name and birth date?"
He rolled his head away from her and continued faking sleep.
Just because he could.
"Steve! Wake up!"
"What?" he growled and opened his eyes to glare at her.
"Sorry, but I need to draw blood. Can you tell me your name and birth date?"
"Steve McGarrett. 3. 10. 77. As if you didn't already know."
"Yes, I know it's a pain, but it's for your own good. I'll be finished soon. Are you allergic to any meds?"
"No. And no to Latex."
"All righty. Just hold still."
She began cleaning up and he glanced at his arm with the Bandaid already stuck down. "Humphh."
"What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"
"No, didn't even know when you did it."
"That's because I'm the best. But that doesn't mean people don't scream bloody murder. And you know the worst ones?"
A. He didn't. B. He truly didn't care. C. But he knew she wouldn't leave unless he responded, so he said, "No."
"All you tough boys with all the tattoos all over the place. Screaming your heads off 'cause my needle hurts. I tell them, 'I can tell that this isn't the first needle you've seen, so just hush up and let me do my job.' Just a big bunch of wusses."
"I don't recall screaming."
"No, you didn't, but most of them do. Just sayin. Now, get back to sleep. I'll leave you alone."
Oh, how he wished that was the case.
At 0430, another voice abruptly awoke him, while pulling down his sheet at the same time. "Good morning, Commander. I'm Dr. Sung and I need to check your incisions."
Before Steve could even comment, the gown was pulled up and a hand was poking him in the belly.
"Ow!"
"Sorry. These look good. Make sure you read the follow up care they give you when you go home."
And with that, he was gone.
Not the best bedside manner I've seen.
Steve was hot, tired, grumpy and itchy when Ellen arrived a few minutes later to change out his antibiotic. He first noticed an itch when he scratched at one of the bandages on his stomach. Then is leg itched. Next was his neck. And his fingers. Then his palm. Actually, both palms. And his thigh. And back to his belly.
Damn annoying.
"You look like you didn't get much sleep," she commented.
He glared. "Ya think?" He reached up and wiped his hand across his forehead. Then he scratched when it began itching. "Is it hot in here?"
"Actually, it is rather warm," she agreed, but placed her hand on his cheek to check for fever. "You don't feel like you have a fever, but I can turn down the thermostat. Let's see if that will help. Why are you scratching?"
"Because everything itches," he grumbled, moving his hand lightly over the incision in his belly button.
"Really? All over?"
"Yeah, sort of."
"And you haven't had any problems with allergies to medications before?"
"No. I'm not allergic. Trust me."
"It could be something developing. We have you on a couple different antibiotics, so I'll keep watch and I'll get an order for some Benadryl."
"I. Am. Not. Allergic."
"OK, I believe you. Do you need something for pain?" she asked.
"It's not too bad." He wasn't going to scratch. Just ignore it and it will go away. You have been taught to have control. Use that control.
He scratched.
"And by that, I'm guessing it is also not too good. With some pain meds and something for the itch, I bet you can get a little sleep."
The operative words were "a little sleep" because that's all he had. Thankfully the itching stopped. Not that he was allergic to anything, but the Benadryl apparently helped. But by 0700, someone was back in the room wanting more blood.
"Steve McGarrett, 3.10.77 and I'm not allergic to anything but you just took blood a couple hours ago!"
"It's a special request from Dr. Lavery prior to your endoscopy. Sorry about this."
Steve looked at his left arm where they continued to 'drill' for blood, checking the various bruises. The right arm had had the same IV in it since he arrived at Queens… which felt like weeks ago, so he knew it was going to look about as bad as this one.
"Tell Dr. Lavery I'm going to begin charging by the vial."
"Yes, Sir, I will," she grinned at him.
He wasn't kidding.
Mid-morning, he was walking back to bed from the bathroom, hunched over like someone's grandpa when he heard a giggle behind him.
"Mornin', Boss."
He grabbed the gown tighter. "Kono, that's not funny!"
She patted his arm as she walked by. "I didn't see anything. Promise."
"You're looking spry this morning," Chin said, following Kono into the room.
"Yeah, like I'm 90," Steve complained. "Ya never know how much you use your stomach muscles until you don't want to use them."
"I hear you. Just pace yourself. Are they springing you from here today?"
"Who knows? I have to go back for another endoscopy this morning. There's another stone they couldn't get yesterday. After that, I'm sure they'll think of another reason to lock me away." He gingerly sat on the side of the bed. "Now, what's going on with Sanchez?"
"He's in HPD custody," Chin replied, with a wide grin. "Along with his buyers and all of his crew. We have the drugs and we also have the money. It was quite a haul."
"So, it's over?"
"Yes, finally," Kono replied. "And some of Sanchez's crew are trying to plea bargain. We're learning all sorts of things about what Sanchez has been involved in."
Steve nodded and breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Good work, guys."
"Anytime," Chin assured him.
"Told you we could do it," Kono added.
"I didn't doubt you at all," Steve said, trying to gracefully lie back in the bed. Something that wasn't easy while wearing a gown and with no stomach muscles to hold himself up. He tried sliding, and then rolling before Kono took pity on him.
"Look, Steve," she told him, then pressed the button on the bed to raise the head of it. "Set the bed up and then lean against it and then lay the bed back down."
"Huh. Why didn't I think of that?"
"Learned that when Auntie Leila was sick."
He breathed a sigh of relief when he finally could relax against the bed. "Thanks."
"What time is this endoscopy thing?" Chin asked.
"They said noon. But yesterday I left the room at 1330 and didn't have surgery until 1700, so who knows."
Kono stifled a yawn and Steve caught it. "Were you guys up all night?"
"Almost," she replied, looking sheepish. "Sorry for yawning."
"Go home," Steve commanded. "Both of you. And get some sleep. I'll see you Monday morning."
"We may see you on Monday, but it had best not be in the office," Kono warned.
"Hey, I'll be fine by then."
"Uh, you'd better rethink that," Chin warned. "Besides, Danny will be back by then and I'm sure he will be in Mother Hen mode."
"Don't remind me," Steve said. "See you guys later. And really, great job on getting Sanchez."
"Thanks," they both replied, with Kono yawning once again. "See you later, Boss."
"Yeah, later."
~~~H50~~~
Steve was bored. He hated to wait and he didn't feel like doing anything other than close his eyes and doze. Only no one would let him.
At 1130, another doctor arrived. "Commander. I'm on Dr. Lavery's staff and I've got some good news for you. He reviewed your liver enzymes this morning and has determined that the stone the surgeon saw yesterday has either passed through the cut he made in your bile duct, or it was quite possibly a bubble. But as of this time, he doesn't think you need the endoscopy."
"So I can go home?"
"Well, I'm not the one to ask that. Dr. Bennett will have to sign you out. And, you will have to have another blood test in a week to check the enzymes to ensure they haven't risen again."
"But I don't need any more tests?"
"Not to my knowledge. At least, Dr. Lavery doesn't think so."
"OK, cool. Thanks."
"Take care of yourself."
When he left, Steve smiled. I'm getting out of this place. Finally.
He heard a clattering at the door and Leilani and an orderly came in, pushing a gurney. The orderly glanced at the chart and then to Steve. "Can you give me your name and birth date, please?"
Steve frowned, looking at Leilani. "Steve McGarrett, 3.10.77. Why?"
Leilani was turning off the IV pump and removing one of the bags. "They're ready for you in Endoscopy."
Steve stared at them.
Perplexed.
"Uh, no."
The orderly looked at the chart once again. "Nope, it says right here, Steve McGarrett, endoscopy at noon today. That's you, right?"
"Yeah, but that guy who just left here said I don't need the endoscopy. Dr. Lavery said so. Go ask him, you had to have seen him. He just walked out."
"That's not the orders I have," the kid argued. "It's my job to get you down to Endoscopy."
"Well, you'd better figure something out because I'm not getting on that gurney," Steve warned him.
"OK, hang on, let me go check," Leilani said, hoping to prevent the outbreak of another world war.
The orderly followed her out, leaving behind his gurney.
Which Steve had no intention of getting on.
Leilani came back with a smile. "Well, you were right. The orders just hadn't been updated in the system yet. No endoscopy today."
"Good," Steve said as the kid and the gurney both disappeared without a word. One would think he got paid by the number of patients he pushed around the hospital.
"So," Steve began. "When do I get out of here?"
"Well, the orders for the endoscopy were just changed. Let me see if they have updated the discharge orders."
Steve glanced at the clock and calculated. 1215. By 1400 he could be sitting on his lanai eating his own ice.
Leilani came back in. "Good news. Once you show us you can eat and keep it down, you can get out of here."
"Good. Only I'm not hungry," Steve told her. "So, can I just go?"
She shook her head. "No. The orders state you have to go from clear liquids to a meal and keep it all down. Then you can leave. Let me get you a clear liquid menu."
Food.
Steve's stomach turned at the thought.
When she returned, she handed him the menu and showed him the number to call for Dietary. The clear liquid diet was limited, but she said to choose a couple of things on it.
He chose ginger ale and red Jello. How the hell is red anything considered 'clear'? But the other choices were yellow Jello ick and clear vegetable broth double ick.
Twenty minutes later, someone knocked on the door before entering. "I've got food. Can you tell me your name and birth date?"
Oh, good grief. It's FOOD!
"Steve McGarrett, 3.10.77."
"Here you go, enjoy."
Steve stared at it and calculated. He had eaten Sunday night, eaten Monday night when everything known to mankind had come up, and then had a bowl of soup on Wednesday… which also came up. Ice and a small cup of applesauce on Thursday, nothing at all on Friday and here he was on Saturday, staring at red jello with his stomach turning. He didn't want this. And he definitely didn't plan to 'enjoy' it.
He wanted ice.
And his own house, with its door he could lock. And where no one would ask him his name or birth date.
But, in order to get that, he had to eat this.
So he choked it down. Jello had never really been a favorite, but he had eaten it on occasion. What he had eaten was nothing like this. Thick, really gelled, no taste. Nasty. At least he had ginger ale to wash it down.
Only the ginger ale tasted nothing like it was supposed to. He ate the ice. And then he sort of poured most of the ginger ale down the bathroom sink.
When Leilani returned half an hour later, the Jello bowl was empty and so was the cup of ginger ale. "How does your stomach feel?" she asked. "Any nausea?"
"No, not really. I just didn't feel hungry," Steve told her.
"Well, let's give it a little longer and then I'll bring you the liquid diet."
"That's what I just had," Steve said, a confused look on his face.
"Oh, no, that was the clear liquid diet. The next one is just a liquid diet. It has more choices on it, but you need to eat this and then we'll order you a meal."
"But I'm really not hungry," Steve again told her.
"If you really can't eat it, we can have clear liquids tonight and then you can go home maybe after breakfast in the morning."
No way in hell.
"OK, I'll eat."
His stomach churned at the words.
~~~H50~~~
Not many choices on the liquid diet, but there were two soups. One was called "blended" chicken noodle". Leilani said that it was thrown into a blender so that there were no chunks.
Yeah, right.
Steve knew there would be chunks. There would be lots of them as they came back up.
The other choice was tomato soup, which his mom used to make. He liked that. And there was ice cream. You can't really go wrong with ice cream… right?
So he placed his second food order of the afternoon.
And was shot down. The person on the other end of the phone said he was on a "clear liquid" diet and he needed to only order from that menu. He told her he had just had a clear liquid diet and had been upgraded to this yummy stuff.
She didn't buy it and said he needed to talk to his nurse.
He hung up the phone and hit the nurse's call button.
"May I help you?"
"She won't give me food!"
"Ah, just a moment, Sir, let me get your nurse."
Moments later, Leilani rushed into the room. "What's the problem?"
"I called Dietary and they said I'm still on 'clear liquids' and won't give me soup."
"Oh, sorry, I'll make the phone call. That was probably my mistake."
Steve glared at the clock. So much for 1400 on the lanai. It was now almost 1500.
When the food arrived, Steve stared at it for several minutes, his stomach telling him he really didn't want tomato soup. But he finally decided to try and took the first bite. Only to discover that it was really good. And then his second thought was, this will look disgusting if it comes back up.
He managed to eat almost all of the soup. But the more he stared at the ice cream (chocolate and vanilla, a cup of each), he knew that there was no way. The soup was sort of hovering… just waiting to make its second appearance.
Steve laid back on the bed, not moving for fear of jostling something that didn't need jostled. Please, please, please stay down.
When Leilani returned, she was pleased that the soup bowl was empty. Steve realized it didn't take a lot to make some people happy. "Any nausea?" she asked.
"None," he said, lying through his gritted teeth. If he opened his mouth, he was afraid everything inside would take that as an invitation to come right back up.
"Good. I'll bring you a solid food menu to choose from. With luck, we will have you out of here in a couple of hours."
One can only hope.
Steve continued to lounge on the bed, realizing he had become a slug in just four short days. He couldn't wait to get back home and into his exercise routine. He missed swimming as not only exercise, but as a way of clearing his head. He didn't just like it, he needed it.
When Leilani finally came back in, she woke him. When did you fall asleep, you wuss?
"I know you said you weren't hungry," she began, "so I have a compromise."
"OK, what?"
"I know you want to leave. How about instead of ordering a meal, I bring you some peanut butter and crackers. If you can keep them down, I'll get your walking papers."
"Deal," Steve readily agreed. Surely he would keep down crackers.
And he did. Only this time, Leilani was present, hovering and watching. So he dutifully ate the six crackers and most of the peanut butter although it stuck at the back of his throat and no amount of water was going to force it down.
"You think that's going to stay down?" she asked. "You look kind of peaked."
"I'm good," he assured her. "But I can't eat anything else."
She nodded. "I understand. Let me start working on your discharge papers." She unhooked his IV and removed the needle from his arm before adding a Bandaid. "There you go. It won't take too long for the orders, so why don't you go ahead and change clothes. Let me know if you need anything."
Steve breathed a sigh of relief when she left. He could play this charade for a few more minutes and if he needed to throw up, he could do it at home. He couldn't believe how long it took him to change from a gown into shorts and a tee shirt, but was thankful that the shorts Danny had thrown to him on Wednesday night had a tie at the waist. Even that hurt setting right there on his belly button.
Changing clothes tired him out and he laid back down on the bed, cursing himself for his own laziness. He kept one eye on the clock, wondering where Leilani went off to, debating whether to press the call button to send out a search party.
He was ready to go. Once he had those papers, he planned to call Chin and ask for a ride home.
Home. What a wonderful word. He could hardly wait. But while he was waiting, maybe he would just close his eyes.
Just for a minute.
Steve awoke to giggling.
Girly giggling.
He opened his eyes to find Grace and Danny standing next to his bed. He blinked and wondered if he was seeing things.
Until Grace spoke. "Uncle Steve, we've been staring at you for like forever."
He raised the head of the bed. "What are you guys doing back?" He looked at the clock to see if maybe he slept all night.
"Our plane just landed," Danny answered. "And Grace had to see you before she goes home to sleep. It's been another long day."
"I bet," Steve agreed. "Same here. So, how was the trip?"
"Fun," Grace said. "My Nonna was really surprised and happy. How are you?"
"I'm good," Steve said. "Just waiting for my paperwork so I can go home."
"Great!" Danny said, pulling around the chair when Grace sat on the foot of the bed. "Would you like a ride?"
"Well, yeah, if you don't mind. I was going to call Chin, but had to wait until they get the papers ready. She's taking forever," he grumbled."
"No need. We can take you home, right Grace?"
"Sure," she said with a bob of her head. "Can I see your stitches?"
"No."
"Please?"
"Uh, no."
"Pretty please, Uncle Steve. That way I can tell my friends in Aloha Gi—"
"Absolutely, positively NO! Besides all you can see is Bandaids."
She stopped her begging, but then brightened. "No problem, I'll get to see your scars when you go swimming."
Leilani finally returned, saving him a reply.
"Can I go?" he asked, ready to scoot off the bed.
"Hold on, in a couple of minutes," she warned. "First we need to go over your instructions." She set the papers down on the bedside tray and began glancing through them. "Can you give me your name and birth date?"
"Seriously?"
"Rules," she said with a shake of her head.
"Steve McGarrett, 3.10.77."
She checked off a box on her paper. "All right, you have one prescription to be filled," she began. "You should take it at least for a couple of days after you get home. You may not feel too badly, but don't let the pain take over."
"OK." He wanted to hurry this along.
"Call Dr. Bennett's office for an appointment next week. He wants to see you on either next Friday or the following Monday. You have stitches, steri-strips and Bandaids over each of your four incisions. Don't take any of them off… if the Bandaids come off, that is fine, but don't bother the steri-strips. You can take showers, but no baths, and no swimming or strenuous activity until after your appointment."
"OK—wait, what? I can't swim? Why can't I swim?"
"As I said," she replied, peering at him over the papers. "No strenuous activity."
"You've got to be kidding…"
"Sorry. If you begin vomiting or have pain in your abdomen, come back to the ER. Stay hydrated and relax for a few days. He will probably clear you for duty after your doctor's visit."
"Wait! No, I'm not taking off work all next week."
"Well, I would highly recommend it," Leilani replied. "You may wish you had."
"Don't worry," Danny told her. "If he comes to work, I'll tie his butt to the chair. No way will he do anything strenuous in the field."
"Good." She glanced over her forms once again. "Now, if you will just sign here, then initial here, here and here."
"There. Now can I go?"
"Yes, just as soon as I get an orderly and a wheel chair."
"I can walk."
"Maybe you can, but you're not," she said with a grin. "Commander, it has been a pleasure. But you will wait here and ride downstairs, got it?"
"Yes, ma'am. And thanks."
"You're welcome. Take care of yourself."
When she left, Steve scrubbed his hand through his hair. "I can't wait to get out of this place. This has been the longest four days of my life."
"I sincerely doubt that," Danny said. "You've been in the hospital for longer than this… and those have been some of the longest days of my life."
"Yeah, but generally, I don't remember a lot of those days. Not like this anyway."
"But I remember those days," Danny reminded him.
"And I've been thinking," Steve said. "I want a new tattoo in case I ever have to be admitted again."
"What? A hospital tattoo… is this like a prison tattoo or something?"
"No, but everyone who walked into this room has asked me my name and birth date. Probably 48 times a day. And then half of them want to know if I'm allergic to meds or Latex. I'm thinking of tattooing: "Steve McGarrett; 3.10.77; Not allergic to Latex" somewhere on my body. Maybe here on my arm." He held up his forearm to show. "Hell, I might even tattoo it on my forehead if it will get them to quit asking."
"I'm sure Catherine would truly appreciate your lovely forehead tattoo," Danny said with a laugh. "And I think you've had way too much time to lie here and think."
"You've got that right. Where the heck is that orderly?"
Just as he spoke, they heard the wheels squeaking on the tile floor and the dreaded wheel chair appeared.
"I'm Casey and I'm ready to take you downstairs. But first, can you tell me your name and birth date?"
~~~H50~~~
If you have made it this far, thank you so much for reading. This was meant to be a silly little story and I never dreamed it would end up at 41 pages. But I wanted to record my tale and I thought that "allowing" Steve to share it would be the way to go.
I have to say that each of the hospital employees I met was wonderful. The nurses, doctors, aides, lab techs, everyone was great and I highly commend them. Even those two strange EMS gals were nice… quite interesting, but nice. Please don't take offense if I poked fun at your profession. I really appreciate each of these people and what they did for me and I have utmost praise for each of you. I definitely know I am not cut out for this type of work.
A lot of you have asked how I'm doing. I am fine now. Still a bit sore on occasion, but they say that will pass in a month or so. At least I can get out of bed without slithering out like a snake!
A couple of things that I didn't have Steve do. I finally got home on Saturday night around 8:30 p.m. On Sunday I was leaving my bedroom and ran right into the door knob of the bedroom door. That hurt. On Monday, I was coming into the bedroom and that same darn door hit me again… the other side of the door knob. Door = 2; Cokie = Zip.
Yes, I am a klutz.
And, I promise, I will now refocus on Pali' Pali' but when all this was going on, I couldn't concentrate on writing that story.
Thanks to everyone. This is Cokie, birth date 3.16.19-older than Steve!
And I am not allergic to any medications or Latex!