Missing You : Chapter 4: Kate part 2
On board the USNS Comfort, Hospital ship, Persian Gulf, Early April, 2003.
After yawning, Kate stretched without moving too much and then sighed.
"Good morning, Lieutenant." Captain Irene Preston, US Army, stood next to Kate's bed. She'd nursed the Australian since her arrival in her ward. Picking up the officer's chart, she asked, "How are you feeling?"
Kate assessed her body; unfortunately the list of her ailments was long and extensive.
The symptoms of her severe concussion had abated, meaning that she was no longer nauseous, or actually vomiting and her blurred vision had disappeared, but she still had a killer of a headache. Her hearing was still affected; she was deaf as a post in her left ear but the ringing tinnitus still ever present in her right ear. The dull throb of her broken left arm continued unabated, reminding her that she'd had a plate and screws inserted. The wheezing breathing noises made it sound like she was having an asthma attack. And then there were her collection of shrapnel wounds that covered her arms and legs that were itchy as hell. But the most troubling symptom was her lack of memory. She'd been told what had happened but she had no memory of it, recalling going to the weapons locker at the start of her watch but nothing else until she woke up two days ago.
Kate stated as clearly as she could, "I'm fine. When can I return to my ship?"
Irene cocked an eyebrow and then shook her head. It was unbelievable; she'd been in a coma for four days and when she'd woken up two days ago she'd been so confused about where she was, mentioning a place called ADFA and repeated the name 'Mike' over and over. The Aussie's bravado was all bullshit because Irene knew it would be many months before she'd be back on active duty.
She started to take her vitals. "Nausea? Blurred vision?"
Kate shook her head. "No."
"Ringing?"
"Still there." The ringing in her ear was like an ever present unseen and very annoying mosquito.
"You're still wheezing so the pulse ox will stay on for another day." The blast shock wave had caused a significant lung injury, and although she'd improved, Kate wasn't out of the woods yet. The blast produced a sudden change in atmospheric pressure that caused bleeding and bruising in her lungs and an air embolism was a still a possible fatal complication.
Irene asked, "Pain?"
Kate shrugged, barely able to tolerate the level of pain from all parts of body. "Headache."
"I'll get you some pain relief in a moment." Irene smiled, finally an admission of pain. It was time to test her level of awareness. "Just the usual questions."
"Lieutenant Kate McGregor, serial number 4101604, Royal Australian Navy."
"Do you know where you are?"
"US hospital ship, Persian Gulf." Kate added, "I'm not sure of the exact date but its early April 2003."
Irene finished writing in the chart. The RAN officer had improved. She could probably be airlifted out in ten days time depending on the need for her bed. "You're doing well. Rest up. I'll get those pain meds for you now."
Relieved, Kate took a deep breath. "Thank you."
Irene called Carol Muntz over to look after her patients while she walked the short distance to the dispensary.
When Irene came back she handed the tablets to her patient before returning to her station. "Thanks, Carol,"
Carol Muntz flicked through the trashy 'Who' magazine. There was a spread on the sexiest men in the world. "So what do you think?"
Irene had a look and practically drooled over the photo of her favourite. "Johnny Depp."
Carol shook her head. "No way. No contest. It's George Clooney." There something about that man. It had started with his Doug Ross and hadn't stopped since.
Irene pointed to a photo. "What about Viggo Mortenson?"
Bored and trying to distract herself from the itching and the pain, Kate decided to listen in to the nurses' conversation comparing men.
Carol screwed her face up. "Nope. Too scruffy."
"Picky picky. What about Russell Crowe?"
"He can be my Master any day."
Both nurses laughed although Kate never cared for the brash Kiwi come Australian.
"Obviously, you can't have George and I can't Johnny, so describe your ideal man." Irene sat on the edge of her desk. "Tall or short?"
"Tall, of course."
Kate agreed. He had to be tall, but not too tall. There was something about resting your head against his chest as his strong arms held you tightly.
"Dark's a given?"
"Yep. And handsome."
Kate nodded. Tall, dark and handsome. The holy trinity.
"Yep. To go with the height and handsome bits," Carol chortled.
"Hair?"
"Blonde or light brown." Although she liked Johnny Deep, Irene had always preferred fair hair.
"Dark for me.
Irene added, "And lots of it."
Both nurses laughed and said at the same time, "Baldies need not apply."
Kate agreed. Her man had to have a full head of dark brown or black hair. It felt wonderful running your hands through his hair, Kate thought, with a smile.
"Moustache?"
"Nope. Don't like the nose neighbour. Clean shaven check."
Although two or three day old stubble did have certain advantages every now and again, Kate realised longingly.
"Smooth chest, Tom Selleck or Gorilla?"
"Smooth."
Kate shuddered. Back hair was definitely a turn off but a nice covering over a firm chest was most certainly not. She imagined running her hands through that luscious hair, twirling as she went.
"No smoothies or gorillas. Yuk! A Tom Selleck without the soup strainer." Irene cleared her throat and leant in to whisper, "You gotta have something to hold onto as you ride him."
Agreeing, Carol guffawed.
Kate stifled a laugh too. The army nurse was right.
"Jock or Intellectual?"
"Intellectual. If I want a Neanderthal, I'd date a Marine."
"I agree. He's got to be able to do more than grunt and talk football."
"So what have we got so far?"
"Mine's a tall, dark, devastatingly handsome, non-bald, dark haired, clean shaven guy with chest hair and able to string more than two words together.'
"Ditto but he's got light brown or blonde hair without the chest hair." Carol grumbled, "We're not going to find anyone like that on this ship."
"Oh well," Irene agreed.
Carol looked at her watch. "Time to go. See you at dinner."
After putting together all the pieces for her ideal man, Kate stared straight ahead and rubbed her thumb against her fingers. Shaking her head, she just realised she'd described Mike Flynn right down to a tee as her ideal man.
Mike Flynn.
She'd fallen in love with him and had thought he loved her too and the month that they'd been together had been the happiest in her life. For the first time in her life she'd been actually happy. Everything was going so well professionally and personally; she'd been doing well in the Navy and with the JWAC course and she'd met a wonderful man.
But then he was gone. No note. Nothing. She'd been devastated when he'd gone without telling her. Her anger had been quickly replaced with a tremendous sadness at what could've been and the life they could have shared. She'd tried to understand what Mike had been going through to make him leave but had failed. She'd blamed herself, she must've done or had said something but she had no idea what.
Kate had no one to talk to about it. All her friends were in the Navy and she had no family to speak of. To numb the pain, Kate had thrown herself into her work and career, but lying in hospital at this moment, with nothing to do, thoughts of Mike Flynn resurfaced yet again, so easily. Tears welled, she'd tried to forget him but she hadn't and probably never would. The man was firmly entrenched in her heart and soul and now her heart ached at how much she missed him.
She rubbed her face, wiping the droplets away. The pain was still so raw.
Irene heard the Australian move and walked over to her bed, shocked at how pale her patient suddenly appeared. Where those tears? The nurse wondered before she asked softly, "Kate? Are you in pain?"
Kate gulped, and then nodded. "Could I have some water?" She lied, but not about the cause of her pain.
Since you've been away
I've been down and lonely
Since you've been away
I've been thinking of you
Trying to understand
The reason you left me
What were you going through?
'Missing You' by Lionel Richie and sung by Dianna Ross
tbc