Ch. 8 Gentle Care
Watching Sherlock's chest rise and fall in time to the mechanical swish and click of the ventilator was driving John insane. The nursing staff was excellent, and Chrystal was John's pick. He was taken by her earlier as she spoke softly to Sherlock when she was taking care of him. Now, she returned with another female nurse to help her turn Sherlock.
She touched Sherlock's shoulder slightly, "Mr. Holmes, you need to be turned over again. You don't need any nasty bedsores." They handled Sherlock with the utmost care, gently removing the pillows that propped him up. This time, she raised the head of his bed into a semi-reclining position and put his arms on the pillows for support.
Sherlock's breathing started to sound congested as the movement cleared some mucous from his lungs. Chrystal gathered supplies and attached a suction connector to Sherlock's tubing to clear the mucous.
"Sherlock, I'm sorry but I have to suction your airway." She began to suction and John had to leave the room when Sherlock began gagging and coughing. He could hear her apologizing to Sherlock as she completed her task. He was so congested from the pneumonia.
John wiped the tears from his eyes as he wandered down the hall to the floor lounge for a cup of coffee. Soon he told himself. Soon Sherlock will wake up better and be ready to go back to the flat at Baker Street. He took out his cell and rang Mary.
"John, dear. Are you okay?", her concern was reflected in her worried tone.
"Yes. I'm fine. Sherlock...", his voice broke into a sob for his best friend's pain.
"John. John, what's happened?", Mary asked.
He took a deep, calming breath. "Nothing, I'm...just tired and worried, that's all. He's breathing some on his own now but he's so sick. They want to get him off the vent. He's so congested, I really don't know."
Mary pleaded, "Come home and rest. Or at least go to Baker Street and sleep for a while. You can't be there for him when you're sick yourself."
John rubbed at his face, "You're right. I'll see Ms. Hudson and have a kip at the flat."
"Call me if anything changes."
"I will. I love you Mrs. Watson."
"I love you Mr. Watson."
He placed the phone in his jacket pocket and went to let the staff know where they could reach him. Sherlock wouldn't be waking anytime soon.
He checked back in with Sherlock before he left. He looked more comfortable but he had soft restraints around his wrists to keep him from pulling at his tubes. His dark curls had been brushed away from his face and his bed linens and gown had been changed. He smiled to himself and left the room to rest up before the real challenges began.