Chapter 9
The afternoon was pretty uncomfortable for Roy. Even with his wife at his bedside, Roy still could not find a way to ward off the panic attacks. He scared himself and Joann a half dozen times, by repeating the pattern of dozing off and then waking abruptly a few moments later. The attacks were bad enough, but the constant jarring of sore muscles and broken ribs was upping the numbers on the pain scale. Joann prompted him to talk about it but Roy couldn't find a way to open up. He knew it was tearing her up and assured her that he was just grateful for the company. Dr. Early came in to check on him and gently suggested to Joann to go home for the evening.
"I feel like a traitor, leaving you here," she complained after the doctor left.
"You're anything but that," Roy said as she leaned over for a goodbye kiss. He reached out and took hold of her hands. "I'm going to be okay. You know the first day is always the hardest."
She nodded. "But I've also had you tell me that patients say the day after is the hardest, Roy DeSoto. So which is it?"
Roy smiled and rubbed her arm gently. "That's if they have surgery."
Joann sat down on the bed next to her husband. She rubbed circles on his hand as a few moments of silence passed between them. "You know that you're not fooling me, Roy. You don't have to put up this brave front for me." It was Roy's turn to nod and he looked away from her. He finally found his voice.
"You know I don't tell you every scary situation I get into on the job. Most of them, I don't even realize how scary they are until after the fact." He paused, struggling to figure out what was different from the other times he had been injured. Why this one was effecting his mind as well as his body.
"I guess, this time, it was so unexpected, so sudden….I didn't have any control…" He stopped and looked at her. His best girl. The person who knew his heart. The one he let into the deepest parts of who he was. And he realized, of all the people around him, he knew she would understand, or at least be patient enough to let him work through it. "I know it'll get better. Just kinda hard getting through it right now and I hate to see you here, knowing there's nothing you can do. It's just going to take some time, I guess."
Joann leaned in and gave him another kiss. She squeezed his hand and then stood to go. "You can call me, if you need to. I'm always going to be there for you."
"I know. I'm counting on it." He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile and then watched as Joann left the room.
He squinted at the wall clock. It was 5:30. He determined the best way to avoid any more visions was to simply stay awake. He figured he had roughly 13 more hours to kill before the final check on his cognitive functions. Then there would be the sweet relief of more pain medication and after that, if he was lucky, home to his own bed and his family. Many shifts he had managed to stay awake for at least that many hours. Shifts that had been filled with physical and mental exertion. Just lying in a bed should make it easy to stay awake. He would simply not sleep until they were ready to send him home and by that time, the panic attacks would disappear. That was his plan.
Dr. Early had made arrangements that he wouldn't have a roommate which might have added a distraction but he was thankful for the privacy. The constant hum of foot traffic and conversations in the hall helped with his "no sleeping" plan. Nurses and personnel were coming in and out. His IV was checked and then finally removed. The oxygen and cannula was checked. His dinner was brought in only to be removed 30 minutes later, relatively untouched. Roy had managed to get down some of the broth and applesauce, knowing doctors frowned when patients refused to eat. He remembered Johnny had gained an extra day once for refusing to eat the hospital fare.
Soon, an aide came in and helped Roy to the bathroom and then took him for a short walk down the hall. He had to admit, the concussion was playing a little havoc with his vision and was glad to return to his room and the security of the bed. At 8:00 p.m. he turned on the television and watched a couple of his favorite shows, even though he found himself squinting at times to see the action. At 11:00 he watched the news, surprised there was a little report about the incident. Thankfully, he wasn't mentioned as the reporter seemed to be more interested in the two occupants of the car. After the news ended, he turned off the television finding no interest in the guests scheduled for the Johnny Carson show. He glanced back at the clock. His plan was working. He had managed to kill 6 hours and was still awake. He noticed the hallway lights were now dimmed and things were quiet. Someone had closed his door. Roy sighed. It was going to be difficult to stay awake now.
"Maybe I should call Joann," he thought. Roy realized if he called, she would worry and then she would be awake all night. He didn't want to risk waking the kids either. He thought about calling Johnny but nixed that idea knowing his partner needed his rest after the harrowing day. The pain in his chest, ribs, head and muscles were helping the plan but he didn't want to fool himself into thinking that would be enough to keep him from dozing off and having the station wagon from hell appearing again.
He thumbed through the magazines Joann had brought in and picked up the Readers Digest. Roy figured there was enough reading material in the periodical to get him through until morning. He set a goal to read it cover to cover, every column, short story and recipe. He got as far as the "Laughter is the Best Medicine" column before his carefully laid out plan… failed… and his eyes closed.
E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!
Roy awoke, jarred this time by seeing himself push Dr. Brackett into the path of the speeding car rather than away from it. This time he was killing the doctor rather than saving him. The jolt elicited a hiss and groan from the pain. Attempting to sit up, Roy finally realized that he wasn't alone. A nurse was writing in his chart by the light of the lamp near the bed. A little disoriented, he momentarily wondered if she was part of a dream.
"I'm so sorry, Mr. DeSoto. I didn't mean to wake you. Are you all right?"
Roy couldn't get his eyes to focus at the night duty nurse. Her voice sounded familiar but he couldn't quite make out her features. He managed to say that he was fine while trying to get his breathing under control.
"Are you sure?" the nurse gently prodded. "I need to do a neuro and vitals check but I can already tell your pulse rate is going to be a little high. Nightmares will do that to you."
Roy attempted a smile and knew he didn't quite pull it off. He wasn't sure he cared.
"What time is it?" he asked.
"Three a.m.," the nurse answered quietly. Surprised, Roy realized that he had actually slept. The last time he had looked at the clock it had been just a little past midnight.
"It looks like the nurse before me decided to skip your last check because it was the first time you had slept. Oh don't worry, she checked with your doctor to make sure that was okay as long as you got a full checkup with me!"
She was a little too cheerful for that hour of the morning, Roy was thinking.
The nurse asked him the standard neuro questions which he answered correctly and then she got out her pen light. Roy flinched and the fuzziness got worse. He rubbed his fingers over his eyes when she was done.
"Mr. DeSoto, can you read my name tag?" She leaned closer to his bed so the light clearly illuminated her tag.
Now he knew he was in trouble. His pupils must be dilated and that was not going to get Nurse Perky out of there in a hurry. If he could only place a name with the voice. He could tell she was a brunette, or was she a blonde. Not enough light in the room to tell. Maybe it was Sharon.
"Nurse Walters?"
"Ehhhh." She tried to sound like a game show buzzer when the contestant guessed the wrong answer. "Mr. DeSoto, you could have at least guessed a little better than that. You and I both know that Ms. Walters left Rampart for nursing school in San Diego about 18 months ago."
The quiet sense of humor gave her away.
"Ms. Lewis?"
"Bingo! But you figured that out without reading my name tag," Ellen said. "Those pupils are telling me you may not be seeing too clearly. Not to mention your forgetfulness about Ms. Walters. I see that you passed all your previous neuro checks with flying colors. Not sure I like you failing mine but I'll try not to take it personally."
"Okay, you caught me. Guess my concussion isn't going away?" Roy silently hoped his first time flunking a neuro check wouldn't get him an early morning visit from the doctor on call. Which would probably be Mike Morton. Roy got along okay with the taciturn intern but he realized that he himself was pretty cranky and wasn't in the mood to tangle with the good doctor at 3 in the morning.
Nurse Lewis said she wouldn't give Roy an F because his missteps could probably be blamed on the 2 hours of sleep he had gotten. "We'll just have to get you back on schedule the rest of the morning!" She continued to chat away as she checked the oxygen levels, fluffed his pillows, and wrote in his chart. Roy actually didn't mind her small talk. Ellen Lewis was one of the kindest nurses on the staff at Rampart. He had always admired her way with patients. He was trying to sort out the implications that he had actually relaxed enough to sleep when the nurse got his attention again.
"Mr. DeSoto, now, since I don't have permission to give you any pain meds other than this aspirin, is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?"
As he swallowed the two pills, Roy wondered how long the nurse had been in his room before he woke up from his dream. He still was finding it humiliating to be having these panic attacks. He shook his head in answer to her question and sank back down in his pillows. Then he puffed out a huge sigh. "I suppose I should get up and go to the bathroom?"
"Certainly! But I'm going to have to be your dance partner to make sure you make it there and back. So let me first make sure everything is set in there and I'll come back to get you."
Roy managed to get his legs over the side of the bed and removed the cannula. Just that little bit of movement made him dizzy and his left arm moved instinctively to his chest as protection against the pain. He looked up to see Ellen standing in front of him with her hands on her hips.
"Call me crazy, but I'm wondering if you should be walking to the bathroom, let alone dancing with me as your partner," she said.
Roy shook his head. "I'm not sure I want to do a bed pan. Or worse."
She pursed her lips and looked back and forth between Roy's bed and the bathroom door. Then with a determined look, she sidled up next to Roy and offered her arm. "You lean on me as much as you want, take as long as you want and promise you won't fall on me."
"Deal," said Roy as he stood next to her. It took him a few moments just to get his legs moving.
"Is this the box step or a waltz, Mr. DeSoto? Anything more than that, I'm going to have to come back after I take some lessons at the local Arthur Murray studio."
Roy was so intent on making his way the few feet to his destination, he almost missed the nurse's joke. The truth was, he was trying not to worry about another woman besides his wife helping him with such a private personal detail. And he had never danced with another woman either. "I must be really cranky to not even take a joke at 3 a.m!" he thought to himself. "You can call me Roy, Ms. Lewis," he offered. He wanted to offer her a peace offering, even though she seemed not to notice his crankiness.
"Only if you call me Ellen," she said. Ellen had sensed Roy's dark mood. Which really wasn't that surprising considering his injuries and lack of rest. And to top it all off, he was a grown man who couldn't even get himself to the bathroom by himself. She wanted to put him as much at ease as possible.
Just as they got to the bathroom door, Ellen apologized saying she would need to leave the door open a few inches. "I can't let you have complete privacy because I want to be able to grab you in case you need to liven up my time here by taking a header into the toilet."
Roy managed a brief smile on his way in, realizing he was going to be embarrassed if things got too quiet. He needn't have worried. Ellen Lewis continued talking as if they were two friends catching up over a cup of coffee.
"Mr. DeSoto, oh, I mean Roy, you have a little girl, don't you? Well, my daughter Mary is 5 years old. She is a darling but a little rambunctious. She just goes head long into every little thing before thinking. Well, the other day, she accidently walked into the bathroom when her father was in there. I have told that child to knock before entering a room with a closed door, but does she listen? Anyway, she runs out of there calling to me, 'Mommy, mommy! Do you know what? Daddy stands up to pee! Can you believe it?' Well, I tell you Roy, my husband came out of that bathroom with the silliest look on his face. I tell you, I think the good Lord gave us children just to help us keep our sense of humor."
For the first time in 24 hours, Roy caught himself laughing forgetting his embarrassment and his crankiness. Roy could easily see that sort of thing happening with his own precocious little girl. As he washed his hands, he was also very grateful for Ellen Lewis. She had a way of putting anyone at ease with even the most personal moments in a patient's life while leaving them with their dignity intact.
Roy was still chuckling when he opened the bathroom door and took Ellen's arm again. And, some of the tension in his body felt some minor relief. Which was exactly what Nurse Lewis had intended. He also realized his crankiness had lessened as she walked him back to his bed and helped him get resettled. By the time, Roy finally did feel comfortable, she had cleaned up behind him, replaced the cannula, placed the chart back at the end of the bed and turned off the bedside lamp.
"Roy, I sure hope the rest of the night goes peacefully for you," she said, then left the room, closing the door gently behind her.
"Thanks to you, Nurse Ellen Lewis, I think it might," Roy said softly. He slowly fell asleep and for the first time in eighteen hours, was not dreading the call of slumber.
