Six reviews. WOW! I feel very good after some really torturous two days at work. This one is relatively light but don't get your hopes too high. If you think this was bad, think again. Hawkeye hasn't had any torture yet, Krows. Only the patient has suffered. Thanks to Krows, Ragni, Symphony, Anime, MaryKat and of course, NY Gal. It was great to see so many reviews and just because of that, despite the exhaustion, I am posting this new chapter.
Enjoy!
Chapter 77
I brushed and shaved in record time. I needed a shower too. Blood had seeped through and through right to my skin. After an extremely quick shower that wasn't helped by an absence of hot water, I rushed back to post-op. As soon as I entered the ward, Margaret signaled at the kid.
"What's the status?"
"Same as when you asked me fifteen minutes ago. How can you men think you can clean up in less than fifteen minutes?" She reminded me of my own grandmother who happened to stay with us for a few days after Mom and was surprised and disappointed at both Dad and myself almost constantly. Good thing she went away or we may have left Crabapple Cove just to be left alone.
"We are efficient. Plus, there was no hot water." I rubbed my hands to warm them up again before I touched the kid. There was a fine mist falling outside.
I went through the examination rituals and checked his blood pressure myself. It was between ninety and ninety five and heart rate had settled at one ten. Pulse felt strong but to confirm it was his and not mine, I had to touch my own carotid. My own heart was racing almost as fast as his.
"What happened?" Margaret looked at me with concern.
"A series of unfortunate events. This is one unlucky kid!" I sighed as I told Margaret the Reader's Digest version of the whole sordid tale.
"So there might be some left over shrapnel in there?" She looked concerned and a little angry, probably at Frank and Cate but I did not broach the subject. There were more important things waiting.
"Yeah. For all I know, there might be some metal in his belly too. I tagged him for Potter. I tagged him priority one. And then I screwed up. I should have gone in to check on him." I shook my head remembering my own folly. This kid shouldn't have been in this state were it not for me.
"Your breakfast is here. Cummon. Sit on a proper chair. I will come with you. Harris can watch him for the time being." She did not seem to be in a mood for argument so I let it slide. There was also the fact the nurses' efficiency and performance became 150 of original when she was in sight or leading the shift. While usually we badgered her for being too hard on them, today I was grateful.
"Want some?" I offered her a sausage at which she glared. The food tasted good. Either that or I had finally lost all sense of taste.
"He should have another X-ray of his abdomen and chest." Margaret spoke in a low tone.
"Moving him to X-ray would kill him faster than another surgery to remove those pieces of shrapnel. His safest bet is to let sleeping dogs lie." I could not believe myself how matter-of-factly I put everything in perspective. My surprise was shared by Margaret.
"You've been thinking about this, haven't you?"
"Yeah, only since his blood flooded my senses."
"We cannot afford a nurse like her. I did not want to take her down because of the obvious implications but this incident is as much my fault as hers." She was obviously talking about Cate.
"She isn't bad with BJ or Potter, right? She is OK but she is hanging out with the wrong crowd. Besides, this isn't your fault at all. Frank and I, damn, I cannot believe myself for saying this, but we are the ones responsible and she only contributed a little." I still felt she had potential but Frank was having a corrosive effect on her.
"You saved his life, Hawkeye, not put it in danger. And Frank never affected my judgment." She said that with so much conviction, I smiled.
"Oh he did, Margaret. Its just that, in OR, you are ...You are the nurse of any surgeon's dreams!" I did not understand why she turned a bright shade of pink before I realized what I had just said. I grinned raising my hand in deference.
"You know I...you know what I meant. You remain focused on work at hand. She is neither as competent , nor as smart." It felt strange praising her to her face and I briefly reflected at the animosity we shared when we got here.
"Pierce, about the other night...I didn't know you didn't spread the rumors."
"Apology accepted, Major. And double negatives have a way of ruining a perfect apology which this wasn't!"
"Idiot!"
"Did you notice this kid's initials?"
"Yeah, I did. I didn't want to upset you by bringing it up."
"Can you believe this, I noticed after I had operated on him and had him settled here." I finished the toast and eggs. Coffee tasted like gunk or what my imagination told me about taste of gunk.
"How many shrapnel pieces did you find?"
"Only one and that too after quite a search. His mediastinum felt like a ticking bomb. I hope there was only one of those in there or all this will go waste." I was scared of voicing my worst fear.
"Pretty unusual injury, right?"
"Yeah. I don't know if any of us could have done anything if we had caught it in time."
"I know you would have. Who got his X-Rays done by the way?"
"I've no idea. All of this could've been prevented if we had a chest film."
"No. Only if anyone of you had gotten to him and not Frank. He is one unlucky boy, Pierce. Will he make it?"
"Negligence, Margaret. Not luck. Pure, unadulterated negligence. Luck has nothing to do with it. And I don't know. So many things have gone wrong and so many more still can."
"Pierce! Hawkeye, please. Don't lose hope. You are the most positive, most optimistic of us all. He did get the best surgeon around, even if a little late. He will be alright. You know he will be." Margaret put her hand on mine and almost pleaded.
"Yeah! Yeah. He'll be OK if his doctor and nurse start paying attention to him." I smiled at her reassuringly.
"You're not gonna eat your sausages?" She looked at them skeptically.
"No. I am full and even if I weren't..." I picked one and let it drop on the tray and it hit the tray with a 'clang'. Margaret smiled at this.
"How old is he?" Margaret smoothed his hair as she sat down next to him.
"Seventeen. In a perfect world, he could have been my son. He does look like me, doesn't he?" I feigned thoughtfulness as Margaret's facial expressions changed from serious to thoughtful to those of understanding.
"Perfect wor...Pie-e-r-r-c-e!" She started off but stopped when implications of my latest statement sank in. I smiled lecherously before turning to his chart to see what had conspired in last fifteen minutes or so. His pressure had stabilized at ninety five by sixty which was not ideal but wasn't bad either. His heart rate was one ten but I had a feeling that once his spine recovered from the insult I had incurred on it, his pressure would bounce back. His kidneys were still in the protest mode but I had high hopes for them.
After I had asucultated his lungs and heart and raised his legs a little more, I stood back to look at him. He was pale and his breathing was labored. I hoped he was resilient because resilience was all he was going to need to get through this.
I felt my arm gripped by Margaret's hand who pulled me away from the bed.
"Go to bed!" She ordered me in her best Major voice.
"Ma-a-a-r-garet!" I answered, feigning shock at her proposition. That earned me a slap on my arm.
"Tell me Pierce, why is such a brilliant mind always in the gutter?"
"It likes the smell." I winked at her before leaving for outer office, "Radar will know where I can be found. And WAKE ME this time, not whisper sweet nothings in my ear." Before she could say anything, I left post-op, knowing full well I could count on her to buy me a few hours of rest.
"Radar. Can I sleep here? If you need to sleep, feel free to use my cot in the Swamp. And if Frank has a problem, punch him and knee him then gag him and tie him and send him to Fort Wayne, Indiana via air mail, postage due. And blame it all on me!"
"Hawkeye! You won't be able to sleep here. Its like ..." Radar ignored my great joke completely but he wasn't as mad as earlier as he did not turn down my request outright.
"Grand Central Station?"
"I don't know about that Hawkeye. But yeah."
"Doesn't matter. I just want to rest a little if you don't mind."
"Fine. You never listen to anybody anyway."
Ignoring his complaint, I stretched out on his cot and was oblivious to the world within no time.
Sweet Dreams, Hawkeye!
PS: Same request as before. It felt great to see SIX reviews and I might end up writing another chapter due to this 'high'. So let me know you are there and its not my computer changing the number of visits to my story!