The hours passed slowly in the OR (we had another session that lasted for almost three days), midnight being announced over the PA with some records secured for us by Radar and Klinger. Some time afterward, after the wounded came by and were settled in, the unit had a belated gala to celebrate the warming up of this winter season, the first of its kind, before more wounded came to the compound. Although strange enough to celebrate, it was enough to give us the excuse we needed to get loosen after the long session. We may have had missed this bizarre weather by a few days and were too busy to celebrate while in the OR, but it was nonetheless still noted. With the short time given to us, the 4077th had given a party like no other, save for the call that Frank and Margaret put through to Seoul when things seemed sillier and everybody off duty drunker.
"Ooh, Tokyo…" Calvin sang at the Officers' Club as we all drank and sang our own lyrics.
"Geishas and sleazy hotels!" Trapper yelled as people sang louder.
"With hampers full of sushi and Saki and majors majoring each other," Calvin continued in drunken harmony.
The offensive line had to be called upon although they had been partying with us too. Frank and Margaret were upset that their relationship continued to be a joke and filed for transfer paper and charges, depending on the person and on which day and why (and trust me, that was confusing enough). Within hours, in came General Barker and his papers and aides. Radar caught him on the compound and ran to the Officers' Club just as Igor, the cook's assistant and Mess Tent scapegoat, opened up some Grape Nehi.
Of course, after talking to General Barker, who came by to bother us (and see us all in action at the bar), Henry saved the day and invited said person to the off party to drink with us. Then, the wounded came (with quickly sobered people scrubbing up) and Barker was then obliged to help us in the OR until things settled down again. With Post-Op filled to the brim, we had our hands full, even with Sidney and Sam Pak covering some duties.
After the session, General Barker left us, tired and stiff, just like last time when he almost arrested Hawkeye and Trapper. He suggested a second time to get rid of Frank Burns, but Henry could not afford it at the moment. After the events whirling around the former Major Simmons (who was now situated in Leavenworth, so I've heard), I don't think that our commanding officer would want to go through another parade of doctor officers, trying to get another to stay permanently with us. Already, Calvin Spalding was ready to be transferred out after General Barker left, all in thanks to Frank and Margaret and our merry celebrations, so we had nowhere to turn to. We didn't even know where he was transferred to after Barker had left, so sneaky those two had been.
I also don't think that Henry would trust another doctor around the camp anyhow, so distrustful he was of the Army transfer system. Calvin Spalding was a different man, one that made us sing and laugh again, but after that session with General Barker, he was soon packing (Sidney and Sam Pak along with him, the poker conferences done for the time being). With another request that brought the former Major Simmons, there was a chance for another Regular Army nut. With our luck, he would be a criminal too. We could not afford it again.
Hawkeye, our chief surgeon and local nutcase, was calm about the situation, only saying that we need more hands on deck before we sank under the pressure, especially with Frank panicking often, especially when we were under fire from friendly and enemy forces. I agreed with him quietly, only wanting to take the worry off of his back as often as I could when hours stretched into days and the war moved into months. He was a selfish man at times, but he, like all others, were suffering under the sinking ship that is the 4077th M*A*S*H.
For days afterward, I tried the best I could to help Hawkeye. While Nurse Lisa Bigelow helped Trapper (dating for the time being before Trapper found another nurse that roused his wife's suspicions once more), I poked and prodded at Hawkeye. I massaged his back and head (and more in the Supply Room), insisted he sleep when he could, especially when he went days without it. Oftentimes, he was in Post-Op when he was not on a shift or needed or just being in the way, so I had to push him out. Hell, I even bothered Radar to get real food for him when we could, having the cook pack us up a decent lunch when we went out on a random date near the minefields.
Of course, with my older brother snooping around, it wasn't much of a date. Dean had returned on and off to the 4077th and was oftentimes pretty nosy when it came to me and Hawkeye. While he was still concerned about the heartbreak he was sure I would have, he also was seeing no way that Hawkeye could achieve that and more. However, I have to say that he was too motherly (yes, that) when it came to our dates and it was annoying, especially with no hands on deck.
All of this helped Hawkeye's mood, especially after he yelled at poor Igor about the food, causing riots everywhere he went. I mean, we had liver and fish so many times that even I was groaning and wanting to puke, so we went above and beyond everything and ordered out to the States. Ever resourceful, we had been ordering from Adam's Ribs a few times. It changed everything and it made for some delicious meals. We even got the cole slaw the second time around!
Soon however, the roles had to change without me wanting them to. After the day I talked with Sidney Freedman and then headed to the OR for a long month of chaos and extreme life and death situations, things changed in me that I never knew could happen. My body transformed and it was sudden. I was a petite and thin person, about five feet, four inches tall with a DD cup chest and decent sized hips from one short pregnancy when I was a teenager. Within the month (about late January into early February), I was bloated, tired, fat and plain disoriented. Around that time too, I wanted to throw up almost every morning.
It was easy to hide it all of course. Soon enough though, I was bound to be promptly caught and made to go back on the table for examination once more. That day came before I knew it.
It all started when I began taking walks outside of the camp, in the fields and even near the landmines, where the invisible metallic beauty could have me killed if I stepped the wrong way. In warmer weather from the previous autumn, I've seen picnics, races, games and even make-up sessions there, but in the colder weather, it was deserted for obvious reasons and it delighted me. Dates there were nice without the company, but walking alone always had its advantages, especially when I needed to hide something.
To me, it was beautiful, that feeling and the sight of desertion, especially early in the morning, when the dew turned to ice and sparkled at me, sometimes crying, telling to be positive and wait for spring. It might be a time in which the war might even come to an end. I might be able to forget about the whole thing and be assigned somewhere else in the world and never go home to the US ever again. I might be able to run away from this, to dwell into the darkness alone and without friends, for some years ahead of me. All I had to do was wait.
Have hope, it also seemed to say to me, whispering of a name I forgot to remember. Everything is coming out as planned. Peace will come in its time.
I started avoiding the people who were up and about early (Frank was usually one of them) and being amongst the hills and grass was comforting. When someone tried following me up a trail once, I went down another path and lost them quickly, not knowing who had been behind me this entire time. I thought it best of all that I was lucky that nobody followed me on a whole walk and all left me alone after that. Nobody was even bothering to ask me why in God's name I was walking towards a barren wasteland to be alone in the early hours of dawn other than being with my love of the tall, dead grass making my pants wet as I walked through them.
Towards the middle of February, I could not take throwing up every few hours anymore. It had gotten worse and then ceased after the afternoon sun came up, which made me want to hide it more and be as far away from everyone as possible. I started walking farther and farther away from the camp. In that case, I usually checked with Radar on updates from the front lines, always asking when the next offensive was going to be or if there was heavy fighting in the area. Then, I could calculate the time in which I could be gone and when I could run back. If I was caught sick when the wounded came (it hadn't happened yet), I could always brush it away by saying it's just something I caught and nothing more. Then, I might be able to stay away from the OR for a while, just helping to bring in soldiers, satisfied in the fact that I was safe.
Finally, I was caught that one morning in mid February as I kneeled over, throwing up. I knew that I was going to be, but I didn't expect to find out that it was Hawkeye. Hawkeye, who had been watching out for me ever since I started disappearing in the mornings and started becoming worried sick. Hawkeye, who missed having me around when he woke up in the morning, if he didn't have an overnight shift. Hawkeye, who noticed that I was avoiding everybody on purpose even in the afternoon, him included, and wanted to know what was going on.
Dammit, I should have known. He and Henry both watch over me carefully. I should have KNOWN it was going to one or both of catching me in the act.
"Jeanie, are you ok?" Hawkeye asked.
My body and head were bent over, kneeling in the dirt, to somehow empty my stomach of nothing. Upon hearing that familiar voice suddenly behind me, I gagged with fright, choking on acid and wishing that I had not been found out like this.
"Hawkeye? Is that you?" I gargled, trying to spit out the last of the vomit in my mouth and wiping my lips clean of the offensive liquid. I managed to still my stomach and make it stop heaving, so I could sit up. I was tired already of kneeling in the high grass and attempting in every way to hide my ghastly deeds.
Hawkeye sat before me, upset. "Where have you been, Jeanie? I've been worried about you. You've been dodging everybody lately."
I crossed my arms, stubborn. "I'm fine, Hawkeye. I'm just a little sick is all."
Immediately, Hawkeye felt my forehead and cheeks, which annoyed me a bit, even if it was my Love. I understood the concern. It was something that Henry would have done to me too.
"You have no fever, just little warm," he declared. Then, a worried look crossed his face. "Jeanie, let me –"
"Hawkeye, I've had my appendix out when I was thirteen." I sighed (knowing that it was usually the first thing doctors ask me), keeping the vomit swallowed as it came back into my mouth. "You can ask Henry about it. He did the procedure himself. I can easily get my medical files for you. Those haven't been tampered with."
"You're awfully defensive today." Hawkeye tried making the mood light, but he knew that something serious was wrong with me. "You're not going through one of those moods, are you?"
My face flushed red with embarrassment. "You're assuming too much, aren't you?"
Hawkeye held out his hand, trying to get me up. He knew that he had me cornered and that I was at the most vulnerable that I was going to be. As I took his hand and stood up, feeling that I had no choice anymore, my head spun and I wanted to faint again Before I feel myself fall over, the chief surgeon had me in his arms before I passed out.
Immediately though, I felt safe, safer than I ever felt in my life, and not frightened and insecure anymore. I wanted to keep the secrets deep within myself though, unsure of what else to do. I wasn't afraid of what was happening to me or the changes in my body. All of that was gone. Everything was going to be ok or so I hoped.
"Come on, Jeanie, let's get back to camp." Hawkeye was helping me walk back to the crowding compound, intent on heading to Pre-Op, I'm sure. "Let's talk to Henry. He's been worried too. He's been pacing his office for a few days now, since you haven't been talking to him lately. He's been pacing so much that there's a hole where his office used to be. He hasn't done much else, not even sign or initial papers that Radar says he needs to sign or initial."
"Why be worried about me?" I asked. "I can take care of myself and he should know that by now. I'm a big girl now, Hawkeye, and he should know that by now too. I'm nearly thirty years old. What a feat! It's a wonder how I made it there with my ass attached, especially in the years I was in my twenties and even now."
I was walking by myself then without Hawkeye's assistance, but almost tripped on something on the dirt pathway. I think it was a rock because I stubbed my toe and it smarted. I felt blood fill in my boot quickly.
"With you hiding everything, we may never know," Hawkeye pointed out. He then laughed, bitter and worried, as we walked down the hill, ignoring the lone chopper behind us, the wind whipping our hair to and fro, the dust flying in our faces.
An announcement came before us by then, although we were able to ignore it. "Attention, all personnel! Chopper on the compound. All personnel on shift right now head to the pad. We only have a couple on the chopper, everybody!"