|
| |||
| |||
|
|
| ||||
|
|
| Page Thirteen |
|
Kel glanced at her reflexively but the woman's face stayed looking down at what she was doing. For her benefit, Kel said. "Sorry about that, I'll slow down." Dr. Brackett half wondered if there was anyone on the staff who didn't know about the Brackett family friction. And he quickly began feeling like an *ss for what he had done. ::Dixie's thorough on the grapevine, I'll give her that. About as thorough as she is running triage. Everyone around us is walking on egg shells. That's gonna change..:: he vowed. ::Now.:: he said. He was glad for his mask when it hid the rising red of embarrassement in his face. He decided to show the entire room that Dixie's tale about them was now completely baseless. "Dad, look here. This is where Chet's fall impacted against his spleen. See that mark? You can almost make out lettering from the regulator valve he fell on top of. He must have been wearing a SCBA bottle when he fell and that metal piece on the harness was what cut him internally." "Hmm. I see it." Brent mumbled. "Looks sort of like the artifacts that show up on chest x-rays sometimes from drivers impacting their sternums against the steering wheel column?" Brent asked. Then he chuckled. "Saw a Chrysler logo chevron once on one from a patient of mine. That young man now hangs that x-ray on his wall." He sighed accepting a cotton wad from a nurse gratefully so he could mop up his gory face. "He now shows it to all of his dates and tells them its his secret tattoo that can even be felt, for a kiss." "Yeah? Well Chet won't be left with any such girl magnet. This tissue isn't bone. It will heal cleanly in a few days, leaving no traces. Chet's external skin bruising will stay longer than this laceration." Kel said, snipping off his last internal suture stitch. "There," he said, "Good as new.." Kel dabbed the spleen with gauze until Brent could see his work. "Bowels clear? And the intestines?" Brent asked, peering closer. "Completely. All of Chet's internal bleeding came from this site alone. The spleen's the body's repository for whole blood so it's not surprising this tiny tear hemorrhaged so much. The anti shock trousers did a good job stopping it as you saw on the films." "So I did.." Brent said. "So, what should I tell the fireboys?" "That it was a piece of cake, doctor. Chet's no longer in jeopardy." "Will do." and he nodded and winked to the nervous tech across from them. Then he turned to his surgeon son. "Coffee after you close?" "Wouldn't miss it." Kel said. |
 |
 |
|
"Then I'll leave you all to your work.." Brent Brackett leaned down to Chet. He saw the young fireman's eyes had been ointmented and protectively taped shut and he carefully stayed away from where the anesthesiologist was listening to Chet's breathing through the endotrach tube with a stethoscope. He spoke firmly into Kelly's ear. "Looks good son. Almost done. Wake up fast cause your friends are still hanging around to see you. My guess is that it won't be good for them later if your dispatcher has to order them back to the stationhouse. Oh, and Joe Early just told me they've saved some pizza for you." he said, patting Chet's sheet covered shoulder. "So hurry up son, before someone gets hungry again and it disappears." Everyone around the table laughed when Chet's stomach took that moment to start growling. It was very audible as it and the organs around it were still exposed to the air. "That got through my anesthesia?" the man at Chet's head joked. "Usually I have people's plumbing napping soundly during splenectomies." "Yeah well this fireman's appetite is legendary, Dale. Don't feel bad. I hear Johnny complaining about his donut stealing prowess all the time." Kel shook his head ruefully, amused. "Dad, I know of a better way to wake him up if you're interested. Grab Johnny's walkie talkie. I'll have Doctor Riley here on the respirator play him his station's alarm tones after he's extubated." he joked. "Aren't you the creative one.." Brent teased back, just before the surgical bay doors closed between them. "But I think I'll pass on that. Positive reinforcement works so much better than shock tactics.." he replied. Brackett immediately regretted his little stunt with splashing the sterile wash. Internally, Kel accepted Brent's hidden admonishment. ::I deserved that. Now why am I still acting like such a pig? This unspoken feud between us is being addressed. What am I afraid of?:: Inside his head, another voice of conscience spoke up. ::Losing your mother because of it.:: ----------------------------------------------- Brent Brackett was still wet from his shower when he dialed the nurses lounge. The phone rang, making the whole gang jump in their seats as way too much coffee in their systems made them overreact. Then the babble in the room ceased when no one moved to intercept the phone. Marco, Stoker, Johnny and Roy all hushed up in tension, like frightened rabbits when it was the red phone and not the black one that was paging them. Dixie MacCall answered the phone. "Nurse's lounge, Dixie McCall speaking.." |
 |
 |
|
Brent greeted her. "Miss McCall? Put Mr. Kelly's captain on. I wanna speak with him directly. And before you ask. All things went well. Both my visit and with Chester's exploratory. His spleen's intact. Didn't need to be removed. So hop to, woman." Dixie hid her smile even from her eyes as she handed over the phone. "Captain Stanley. You're needed here." "Oh, boy. Hope it's not McConike for playing hooky. He never goes through public HT channels when he's really mad at somebody." Cap said, leaping off the lounge couch and wiping nervous palms on his turnout. Dixie couldn't help herself. She said, "Relax captain. It's not him. Remember, I'm your solid alibi here for all of you staying at Rampart even if the chief does call. I already have my speech planned out." and she broke into a reasoning voice, sugar coated with Dixie no nonsense. "I'll just say, 'Chief, It's a little busy today, and that's why it's taking longer than usual to examine all of your men. ' when the time comes." "Glad somebody's prepared for that call." Hank sighed, and rose, taking the phone from her. "This is Fireman Stanley." with more than just slight apprehension. Brent grinned."Go home, captain. Chet's already being sent to recovery. His spleen was only holed, not grossly ruptured. It was all just minor surgery." Cap excitedly spread the good news to his listeners out of ear shot. Brent heard the cheers and had to take the phone away from his ear for a moment but then he shouted before Hank hung up again. "Captain Stanley, one thing. Hand that to-go box full of pizza to Dixie for her to take to his room or Chet's gonna personally kill ya." "Huh?" "Subliminal suggestion, Captain. Works everytime. I told him it would be waiting." "Gotcha, doc. She heard ya. Thanks Dr. Brackett, for everything. We really appreciate it." "That's why I'm a psychologist, son. Take care." and Brent hung up the phone. ----------------------------------------------------- |
 |
 |
|
Marjorie Kelly sat next to Chet's bed as she waited for him to awaken from his latest anesthesia slumber. Chet's eyes were unbandaged and he had already blinked away the antibiotic ointment in them as the scent of his sister's musky perfume woke him the rest of the way to consciousness. A rodent's fuzzy face, and whiskers, met his gaze when focus returned from the middle of his chest. "Ahhh!!!" he shouted in fright and immediately winced when his surgical staples bit back in protest. "OoooooOOOOooo, Marjorie.. Did you have to bring Herbert here? Animals aren't allow in at Rampart.." "Who says? No one saw me. Besides, what better way to make you feel better than to bring you,.. your best bud." Chet watched Herbert crawl further up his chest to land curious paws on his chin as he sniffed his master's morning anesthesia breath. Then he made for an immediate beeline for the open pizza carton lying across Chet's legs. "Oh, no you don't. That's mine." and Chet pinned Herbert's tail long enough to nestle him into a palm to caress the brown mouse's head and kiss his ears. Then he double taked. "Wait a minute. Why did I say that?" Marjorie laughed. "Dixie left this here an hour ago. She said a doctor in surgery told you some would be waiting for you when you awakened. Wah la.." she said, with a flourish at the pizza half. "It's still warm. I just reheated it up again." Chet watched as Herbert pushed out of his hand with a frustrated squeak until he gained his freedom and he beelined once more for the pizza across the sheets. Marjorie intercepted Chet's correcting grab with a grip of her own. "Oh, come off it, Bro. Let him be. You share your cereal with Herbie all the time. I'll just keep an eye out and cut off all the parts he drools on. No problem. I'll defend your half." "Marj we're gonna have problems if they catch you in here with him. And I'm not eating. I can't. I mean whoever heard of someone right out of abdominal surgery being allowed to eat?" "You had a repair, Chester. And that's a whole different ball game. Only difference between getting basic stitches and what you had done, is the fact that yours are on three layers with two rows inside, and those are just on your spleen and along your abdominal lining. Nice stapling job topside. Saw them when Dixie changed your dressing." "That sounds so appetizing Sis. Here, you eat this." he said, plunking pizza carton, Herbie and all on the bed in between them. Herbert went right on gnawing at a pepperoni. Despite his feigned disgust, Chet's stomach growled. |
 |
 |
|
Marjorie laughed and handed him a pizza slice with no Herbert pawprints on it and a paper towel. "Uh huh.. tell me another lie big brother and I'll restart our practical joke war despite our vow to never do them whenever one of us is sick or hurt." "Ha ha. Very funny." But Chet began to eat, fussing over his IV. "I wonder why I'm not puking my guts out. I did last time I had surgery. Remember my broken shoulder from that cave in rescue? Needed surgical reduction for that one." "I remember, I was the one who had to listen to you whining for two weeks while ya mended." Marj laughed through her freckles and curly bangs. "You aren't nauseated because Dr. Brackett told you not to be." "Kel Brackett was here?" "No, the other one." "What other one?" Chet said, "Hand me that water pitcher will you. I'm thirsty enough to drink my IV." Marj slid the water jug over and a glass, but not before she poured some into a toothpaste tube cap as a water dish for Herbert the mouse. "Kelly Brackett's dad is a psychologist. The gang wanted to hear how you were faring in surgery so Brent Brackett went in to find out. Then Brent told us all on the phone that he had suggested a few things to you while you were under to make your recovery happen faster. Oh, Chester, did you know you were almost in a coma when they brought you in? You scared the living snot out of Johnny. " "I did?" "Yeah. I'd never seen him so quiet and focused until we got the news your injuries were only appearing to be more than minor. Roy told me Gage wouldn't leave your side at all while you were still having trouble breathing. Even after you were at Rampart with two doctors working on you." "I remember hearing Cap's joke about the rain, and then I remember getting very cold. Dreamed I was drowning." "You weren't drowning Chester. They decontaminated you with a water hose on scene and Mendelson had you firmly on a positive pressure valve so no water got in. Geez Louise, even I know how dangerous liquid ammonia is on the skin. Lucky you didn't get much more than a whiff in your lungs or I'd be leaving my rubber chickens on your coffin instead of in your sh--.. Never mind."she broke off. Chet's eyes narrowed as he played with a now fat, pizza filled, burping Herbert, making jungle gyms out of his fingers for the mouse. He finally spoke with long practice at a conversation he had shared with Marj many many times before in the past. "They gotta be in my shoes, Sis, since I'm not wearing any shorts on account of these lovely staples I've got under my sheets here. Ok, fess up. Which shoes?" Marjorie was pinned, fairly. "Ok, I had the guys take back a set of my top end RC's, you know the ones that spray baby powder out the moment they're moved, to rig into your locker shoes for you to find when you got back, is that such a crime?" "The guys were here?!" Chet said mortified. "Yeah, so? What's the big deal? They were in, they were out. Guess they came so Roy and Johnny could see with their own paramedic eyes that you were truly out of hot water. They even reassured themselves further by taking a vitals set on ya for the nurses chart while you were sleeping." "What's the big deal? What's the big deal?! Sis, tell me they didn't see Herbert here." Marjorie was a mouse. But Herbert squeaked in betrayal. He wasn't a good liar at all. "Marj!!" Chet complained, and Herbert leaped into Marjorie's plaid shirt pocket in fear at Chet's thundering protest. Kelly immediately gripped his sheet covered staples. "Ow...WWWW...www .. G*d D*mn it.. ..Ow.. ..Why me?" "Hush, That's Captain Stanley's line. Or at least, I think it is from what you've told me about him." Marj admonished. "Dix told me if you're gonna cough, shout or sneeze, to hug a pillow before you do so. It'll hurt less." She said, smacking his face with one, before gently setting it on his stomach. "Yeah? It'll hurt more later on when I get better and back to duty and have to face the guys finding out I found Herbert again and kept him as a pet.. I'll never hear the end of it!" "So? We'll just...deflect them with another Phantom Strikes war." "Won't work, they're on to me." Chet complained. "Oh Marj. Why'd ya have ta bring Herbert to see me today of all days?" "He knew something was up." she said defensely as only a younger sister could. "Squeaked something awful in his Habitrail maze about the same time as your accident. That's how I knew to call in and ...when ... I found out that you were really down on the ground out there." and Marjorie sniffled and Chet saw sudden bright full tears filled his sister's amber eyes. "Come here, little Sis.." Chet said, and he hugged Marj with a grin. "Quit it. I must really be fine if I'm not on an EKG and no doctors or nurses are in sight. Does Gramps and my little brother know about all this?" "Yes, Gramps and Brendon send their best, Chester.." she sighed into his hair. "Wouldn't be surprised if a bouquet of flowers wrapped in antique barbed wire gets sent in this afternoon to your room personally." "Why didn't you tell them that they didn't have to go through the trouble?" "Because they're just as stubborn as anyone else in our family Chester when it comes to reaching out. And you and I both know that it's a terribly long distance still keeping us apart. Might as well be light years between California and Wyoming. Just take the flowers when they come with good grace." |
 |
 |
|
Chet released her and Marj handed them both tissues from the bed table. Herbert poked his head out of Marj's shirt pocket at the scent of tears and squeaked a question. Chet patted his chest and the mouse happily ran to his chin again to nibble and cuddle in his moustache, like a dog rubbing himself on a couch after a bath. "Thanks Marj. I feel better already. I'm only dreading what the guys will do to me after I get back to work now they know I rescued Herbert from the untamed city wilds. I was chosen to be the station's.." he covered Herbert's ears with two fingers. ".. exterminator." "Oh, poo.. " Marj sighed with a mischievous grin. "Fodder for the fires, my fraternal fellow prankster. It will give us an excuse to come up with more devious jokes to play on your friend Johnny Gage, now wouldn't it?" "Hmmm.." Chet said. He closed his eyes, and started chewing pizza while they planned. It was just a few minutes later.. Outside the room, a nurse was walking by Chet's hospital room. She overheard a single sentence. "And Herbert, if you so much as squeak a word of this prank to anyone, I'll trade Chester Bartholomew the puppy for a cat and move you into the station!" SQuuueeAAakKKKKK! The nurse, thinking she was hearing things, moved on when a woman's laughter covered up the odd animal noise she had thought she heard but finally dismissed as only imagined. ::I gotta cut out on drinking all of that coffee..:: she promised herself. ::Starting tomorrow.:: |
 |
 |
|
***************************** From : "SM Fortis" <satchie51@hotmail.com> Subject : [EmergencyTheaterLive] Hello? Date : Thu, 12 Dec 2002 23:15:18 -0600 Silently cursing himself as he entered the elevator, Kel punched the button for the ground floor. What was he thinking when he invited his father to spend time with him at work? Did he possess a bizarre need to validate his sense of self- worth? Was he trying to dazzle him with his diagnostic and surgical abilities? After all these years, did Brent Brackett’s opinion still matter? |
|
| |||
| |||
|
|
|
Click the Defibrillator to Goto Page Fourteen :) |
|
| ||||
| ||||
|
|