Date: Tue, 23 Aug 2005 05:49:35 +0000 From: Jeff STL Subject: "Office fantasy" 4 This story is written by myself for the enjoyment of the reader --yourself. Although this is a reflection of my inner feelings, this story is becoming more and more fictional with each chapter. The events to follow do not reflect my real life, and any resemblance to any real life is purely coincidental. Also, I am not a medical expert, so if any of the following isn't exactly factual, that's why. :-) Thanks to all who have been so kind and written to me. I am enjoying hearing from you! What started out as a stroke piece has developed into a real dramatic story, which I personally also enjoy reading. Comments are VERY welcome, and I respond to all who write! (I just wish I had known I was going to end up doing this; I'd have picked a better title! LOL) Office Fantasy - Part 4 Darkness. Silence. And yet, light...in the distance. I feel nothing. The noise around me...chaotic. Voices, yet only shadows of voices. Beeps and pings. Strange smells. Someone or something thumps my chest. Pain. I cannot tell where. A poke here, a slash there. What has happened? Where am I? Who am I? I'm cold. My back is pressed to a hard, cold surface. I try to open my eyes. I cannot. Wait, another flash of light. Why can I not move? Some calls to me...my name...Jesse...yes..that is me...I wish I could answer...Mom?...gravity shifts, and I slide into darkness, quiet. * * * * LIGHT! Ow, it HURTS. Oh my aching head. I haven't had a headache like this since...my brother's wedding. Is that now? Am I there again? I suddenly realize that my eyes are still closed. You gotta be kidding! I panic as I become aware that I don't know where I am. I am in a bed, and those sounds...are...HOSPITAL! I'm in a hospital. Panic sets in. I force myself to open one eye. A ceiling. And a piercing beeping sound...make it stop! And then...a voice! "Well, well, good morning, Starshine!" a bright female voice has the nerve to say. Why is she SHOUTING? With great effort, I shift my gaze slowly to my right to see a pleasant lady smiling down at me as she fiddles with a machine, silencing that awful beep. I feel like I've been on a 10-day binge of booze. Inwardly trying to shake my stupor, I try to focus on forming words. "Take it easy, Mr. Corey." she says gently. She must see the confusion in my eyes, as she says "You've been asleep for quite awhile. Are you in pain?" I gently shake my head 'no', causing me to rethink my position and nod 'yes'. Frowning again, asking the unaskable question: what happened? "My name is Shirley, and I'm your nurse right now. I'm glad to see you awake finally. You have lovely eyes, my friend." She putters with the machine, which I now remember is called an "IV Pump". "I'll see if we can do something to control your pain a bit more." Then she whisks out the door after writing something in my chart. Shirley's departure gave me some time to now contemplate where I am. With great effort and pain, I shift my gaze around the room. It's smaller than a usual hospital room, I muse. To my left, a small window lets in daylight. Pain shoots through my eyes. Blinking and moving my head slowly back toward the right, I see that instead of the usual door, there is a sliding door like what's on my patio door at home, with some blinds. Fear and panic strike me again as I recognize this as the same ICU room my dad was in when he had his open-heart surgery! What HAPPENED to me? The sudden increase in my heart rate must have flagged something on the console at the nurses' station. Shirley came rushing back in. She checked my vitals and again checked the IV pump. "There there, Jesse, we'll have something for that pain in a moment. I paged Doctor Adams, and he'll be in shortly." She studied me for a moment, noticing the burning question in my eyes, and yes, even a tear or two as I just convinced myself I must be dying. "Oh, baby, no, don't do that. You're going to be ok!" (light dawns) "Oh, don't you remember what happened?" A slight shake of my head no...it's all I can manage right now. "Oh I'm so sorry. You've been in a little accident, Jesse, but you're going to pull through just fine, ok? I have to go out and help Nadine with a patient, but I'll be back in a couple of minutes." An accident. I had an accident. I'm going to be ok. Is she fucking nuts? I can't seem to find it in me to speak, my head feels like it is about to explode, I can barely move, and I'm going to be OK?! I listen to the bustle of activity out at the nurse's station. I hear Shirley say "Oh, Doctor Adams, #4 is awake!" I love how the refer to patients by their bed number. Sheesh. A handsome doctor, who could be 25, could be 45, walks into my room. "Well, now," he says heartily. "Good to see you finally joining us again. You gave us quite a scare. No, don't try to talk yet. Your throat is going to be rather sore for awhile. I'm Doctor Adams." He starts to examine me as he continues his talking. "I'm sure you're probably wanting some answers about now. I can see by the look in your eyes that I'm right." He takes a deep breath, pauses as he checks what I presume are injuries to me. Just how broken am I, I wonder? "OK, Jesse, here are the facts. You were involved in a car accident about two weeks ago. According to the policeman who accompanied your ambulance, some guy crossed the median and rammed you head-on. Do you remember anything at all?" I shake my head "no", unable to believe what I'm hearing. "OK, that's fine. That's not unusual for someone who's suffered a trauma like this. Now, about your condition. You were in a coma for a lot of the time you've been here. That's why you're in ICU. You had a head injury, which we were able to take care of surgically. Nothing to worry about, but we had to treat it. I can tell you that you're doing well in that regard. The reason your throat hurts is because we had to intubate you for the first few days." Shirley comes in, carrying a syringe of what I presume is pain medication. She injects it into my IV in my hand then rushes right back out again. Doctor Adams continues after writing somethings in my chart. "Shirley just gave you some morphine to ease the pain. I'm sure your head still may hurt a bit, and that'll subside. You're going to feel weak for awhile until we can get your strength back up. Your cooperation is going to be needed since you've been in bed for two weeks." I finally find my voice, despite the soreness I croak out "Doctor, am I going to be 100% normal." He grins, and says "That depends...were you normal before?" I must have frowned because he laughs and says "We expect that you'll make a 100% recovery, Jesse. You'll just need time to heal and rest. We're going to observe you here in ICU for a couple more days and if all goes well, we'll put you in a regular room. Your family has been haunting our halls for days now, so I'm going to let them come see you now." I nod and he leaves the room. My family...good heavens! I wondered what was missing here. "Hi, Jess." my wife pokes her head in cautiously, then comes up to me. Her eyes are red, from crying, I assume, and she hugs me gently, but sort of awkwardly. I'm so out of it, it doesn't dawn on me that something isn't right. "Are you in pain?" I whisper back (for I realize this is less painful) "Not so much now. Have I really been here for 2 weeks?" She raises her eyebrows once, and says "Yes, you have." OK, I gather, she's tired. Inwardly shrugging, I just dismiss it as being tired. "How are the kids?" I whisper. "Fine" is the answer I get back. I look at her, frowning slightly again. "They're out with your mom. I think this would scare them to see you all hooked up to tubes and machines." I nod, as that sounds reasonable. They do upset easily when it comes to things like this. We spend a few minutes, making small talk. Even in my stupor, I sense something is amiss. I don't know what it is, and I have a feeling she's holding back because I'm in a fragile condition right now. After about 10 minutes, she says "Well, I better get the kids home so they can get sleep for school tomorrow. Plus your mom is probably pacing a rut into the floor outside waiting her turn." She smiles gently. Maybe I'm wrong about her being upset? I nod, understanding that she still needs to take care of the kids and house. "I'll come back tomorrow, ok?" I again nod. She gently kisses me on the lips then walks out...crying? I vow to find out what's up with her. Of course, I muse, she nearly lost her husband, and Leslie was never one to deal with these things well. I sigh (ouch) and convince myself that's the case. Next thing I know, in walks Hurricane Helen. "MY BABY!" my mom sobs as she walks over to my bed. "Jesse David Corey, do you have any idea how worried I've been?!" She sobs again "MY BABY!" and hugs me. (ouch) That's my mom. Parents are so funny. Dad walks in behind her, with that sympathetic look we share when Mom is losing it, but I notice he also is shedding a tear. "Hey JD, how you doin' buddy?" my dad asks gently. He's the only person who ever calls me "JD". Frankly, he's the only person I'll LET call me that, too. It's HIS pet name for me. "I think I'll live" I whisper, prompting more sobbing from Mom. "Helen, take it easy," my dad says. "The poor boy is probably sore as hell." Poor boy. Parents. I'm 38 years old, and I'm their baby and their boy. I grin inwardly. "Oh, I'm sorry honey", mom says, smoothing my blanket. "Do you need anything? Are you hungry?" I shake my head no. "Dad, what happened? The doctor said I was in an accident. What about the other car? Did I do something wrong?" Mom muffles a sob, as Dad gives her a look as if to say 'Hon, control yourself.' "Well, son, no, you were just driving, although they can't tell if you were speeding or not. The other car hit you pretty hard (Mom turns at this point, holding back tears), and I'm afraid it's not good news. Do you think you can handle this?" Gulping and fearing the worst, I nod slowly. "OK, we saw this on the news before we knew it was you in the other car. There was an escaped convict who had murdered someone. He apparently stole the car he hit you with, and was involved in a high speed chase along I-55. You know that construction over there near Reavis Barracks? Well, he didn't see it coming and was actually trying to go around some backed-up traffic, and ended up plowing into you." Wide-eyed and horrified, I say "go on...what happened?" Dad steels himself, and says "He died, son. The police said that he died en route to the hospital. Apparently, he'd told someone in prison that he had a score to settle." Dad looks me straight in the eyes, searching for a reaction. I, of course, am stunned. "Dad? I..." I choke up. Dad takes me by the shoulders, and says to me "Son! Listen to me! This is NOT your fault! I know you. You're going to want to take the blame for this, but it..is..not..your..fault! You had no way of knowing this was coming. The witnesses at the scene said it happened very suddenly and one lady swears she saw you react only after it was too late for you to avoid getting hit." I take a deep, sobbing breath, then let it out slowly. "So, you're saying that I didn't know it was coming until it was too late." Dad nods, then very gently takes me into his arms as I cry. "Shh. It's ok, my son. It's ok. I love you so much. It's ok. Let it all out. Look at the bright side." He feels me tense, knowing I had a question of WHAT bright side?! "The person's life he was after was spared." I feel Mom's hand rubbing my back gently, as if she knows that's little comfort to me, but it slowly dawns on me that he's right, it wasn't like I PLANNED to get this guy killed. I feel sleep overtake me, but on that edge where you still hear things and are aware, but too sleepy to move? I feel Dad gently lay me back, and kiss me on the forehead. "Come, Helen, let's go so he can rest." I hear Mom tearfully say "John, I can't leave him. What if he doesn't wake up again?" "Helen, he's going to be ok. We must have faith." I feel the comfort of Mom's cool hand, caressing my cheek, my forehead, then her warm lips pressed to my temple. "We love you, baby", she says gently. "We'll be right here." The next few days are sheer hell as my body wakes up from its long slumber. I sleep almost constantly, with visits from the family members. Finally the day comes where they move me to a regular room. I still have trouble remembering exactly what went down. And the wife is still acting as if there's something wrong, but she's amicable enough to be there for comfort and companionship. Even better, though, is that my family is able to come see me now. My older brother, Josh, has been up several times, trying to keep me laughing as he is so good at doing. His wife and kids are wonderful, and I enjoy being around them. My boss, Daniel, had been in several times to see me, and every time has told me to quit worrying about work. I feel weird being on disability, since my body is healing so well, despite some pain. He actually ORDERED me to stay away from the office until I'm better. Today, though, it's just myself and Leslie, and I finally decide to find out what the heck her problem has been. As usual, revelations in our marriage take place in the midst of an argument, when most hidden feelings seem to manifest. Today, the argument "du jour" is because I want to go home and rest there. "Jess, you need to be here so they can help you. I don't have time to take you to therapy and then get to work, then get the kids..." "I just think I could do better at home, Les...I mean, they say you heal better at HOME, you know?" She suddenly turns sarcastic and says, "Yeah, well, I'm surprised you'd WANT to be home, Jesse." Whoa. What the hell? "What are you talking about?" "Who is MARK?" she asks angrily. To be continued.... * * * * Thanks again for reading. As I said, I'm not a medical-type person, so I don't know how realistic things are medically speaking. Please excuse that and attribute it to just plain fiction. I love hearing from people who are reading this. Please feel free to drop me a line! :)