One Day At A Time




Breakfast came and went, no food for him...unfortunately Romano had left orders for him to be NPO, except sips of water with his meds, what he was not getting by IV. His arm was sore, and he looked down at the IV site, swollen, red, his IV had infiltrated, damn. His head hurt, and he knew darned good and well that he was a major crab. He reached up, turned off the pump, unplugged it from the wall, so the alarm wouldn't sound, and d/c'd his own IV. No use in getting anyone just yet, they'll be in soon enough, the day's festivities had yet to begin. He held the 4 x 4's to the site, and fiddled around with the drawer until he located some tape. It was a challenge to tear the tape, and hold the 4 x 4's, but he figured this is one of the reason's God gave him strong teeth. He tore the tape off and made a sad reproduction of a bandage. "Oh well," he thought, "they'll be in soon enough to stick me again." He lay back on the pillow, bored out of his mind, crabby, hungry, head pounding, and ready to get the hell out of here. Of all people, Romano. His crass comment still hung around him, "Drugstore cowboy," like he had never done anything in his life he was remotely sorry for. Hell, Romano did something at least once an hour he *should* be sorry for. The jerk. Of all times for Benton to be gone, at a conference of all things, a diversity conference, thanks to Romano. Benton had become distant again, distracted. He had Cleo, he had his new position, which was tenuous at best, and Romano breathing down his neck on a regular basis. Being a "friend" to him right now, was not in Peter Benton's best interest. He understood that. Cleo couldn't stand him, he really didn't understand why. He, to his knowledge, had never done anything to her personally. He was tired of thinking about it all, it was not helping his headache. He had to use the bathroom, and as he tried to get out of bed, the room washed in and out of focus. He sat on the edge of the bed, thankful for sweat pants, and T-shirts, he had refused to wear a gown, no way. His head was pounding, and all we wanted was for it to stop, just stop already.

The pounding in his head was not about to abate, so he figured he'd just go ahead, what difference did it make? He didn't have an IV pole to lug behind him. He held onto the bed railing, the nightstand, then the wall, the doorframe...made it! He opened the bathroom door, and looked at his reflection in the mirror. My God, he looked awful! Face flushed, bloodshot eyes, probably from lack of sleep, hair all crazy. He should not have looked, that was a mistake. He decided since no one had come to collect him for any of the festivities on schedule for the day, he'd take a shower. He didn't have to worry about the IV, so now was as good a time as any.

Towels were hanging on the rack, as well as a washcloth and soap in the dish. He started the water in the shower, he wanted it good and hot. He never heard the door open as he entered the shower.

******************

Helen knocked gently, not wanting to wake him, if he was, by some miracle, asleep. She heard no answer, and slowly opened the door. The bed was empty, the IV tubing hanging over the bed rail, and unplugged. The shower was on.

"That little booger." Helen mumbled under her breath. He had been told not to get up unassisted. The meds he was on for his high blood pressure, could easily cause a plummet and he'd be kissing the floor.

She knocked loudly on the bathroom door, then unceremoniously entered the steamy bathroom.

"John?" Helen called out.

John had been lost in his thoughts, rather angry thoughts about the last few months of his life, as he stood under the hot shower. He was trying to calm himself, and think of happier things, and was just about calm when he heard a voice call out...

"John?" Helen said an octave louder.

"OH Geez! Helen you scared the life out of me! Haven't you ever heard of knocking!" John peeked his head out of the shower curtain, water cascading down his face.

"YOU aren't supposed to be up unassisted mister!"

"I feel fine, at least I felt fine, until you just scared the crap out of me!" John replied, his heart was about to pound out of his chest, and he felt like he could jump out of his skin at any second, which was not helping his mood. He stepped back in the shower to rinse off.

"Cranky, cranky." Helen muttered.

"I heard that!"

"You were meant to."

"As long as your here, would you mind handing me a towel, no free shows today Mrs. Nussbaum."

There was humor in his voice, so Helen figured she had been forgiven for intruding, and simply handed him a towel.

"Would it be too much to ask for you to wait in the room? I'll be right out." John asked sarcastically.

"No, it wouldn't be too much to ask of me, and would it be too much of me to ask of you to leave the damned fool IV in?"

"It infiltrated, I didn't want to disturb anyone, so I took care of it. I am capable you know."

"I'm aware of that Dr. Carter." She said emphasizing the doctor part, "But, you need to let someone know, you *are* scheduled for a KUB and an IVP *with* contrast, which means they need IV access."

"Oh. Well, it still infiltrated, and needed to come out."

Helen sighed, he was incorrigible, she let herself out of the bathroom, and sat in a chair within ear shot continuing to converse with him.

No matter how long he had known Helen, he still hated anyone to see him undressed. He figured he would get over that in time, but he felt disfigured. Helen had not known him any other way, but still, it bothered him, especially after a hot shower. The scars turned an angry red for a while, and he just wasn't in the mood to be placated this morning. Not that Helen was very placating, she was more manipulative. She told him *he* was the manipulative one, but he begged to differ. Helen was just as manipulative, but didn't think he knew that. He did.

"So," Helen said, "headache still there?"

"It was going away until you scared the living hell out of me." John testily replied.

"Sorry about that, but I did knock and I did call you twice before you answered." Helen explained.

"I was kind of lost in my thoughts for a minute."

"What were you thinking about?" Helen asked.

The bathroom door opened, and Helen was instantly on her feet.

"Just stuff."

"What kind of 'stuff'?"

John gave her a slight grin, "stuff."

Helen gave him a hug, and a kiss on the cheek. "You are a brat do you know that?"

"So you've told me, at least a hundred times."

"Just in case you forgot, I wanted to remind you."

"So, you off duty?" John asked.

"Yeah, I worked a 12 and I'm off today, so you're stuck with me." Helen replied.

"Why don't you go home and get some sleep?" John asked.

"Not tired, besides, I had a lot of *stuff* on my mind."

John broke their embrace, "stuff huh? What kind of stuff?"

"Just stuff. You know, the usual." Helen replied.

"You are the brat Helen."

"Probably, that's why we get along so well. Now, get your butt to bed." Helen scooted over toward the bed, and took the arm that the IV had been in. "You're right, it was infiltrated, nice goose egg there." Helen slid her fingers over the previous IV site on his hand.

"I told you." John whined at her.

"I never doubted you, you just should have gotten a nurse to d/c it." John looked as though he was going to argue the point, to which Helen added, "Nice guy that you are, you decided to give the nurses a break." She smiled at him.

He had no come back for that one, she got him again. Helen was the master of manipulation, whether she realized it or not. She started feeling along his arms for a good vein.

"What are you doing?" John asked.

"They'll need another vein, just looking around." Helen said.

"You know Helen, I bet you're one of those nurses who measure people by their vein capacity."

"What on earth are you talking about?" Helen asked.

"You know, you meet someone, you don't think, nice smile, cute butt, it's nice veins."

Helen laughed in spite of herself, "never thought about it before, but you know you're right. Sad but true, you're right!"

Helen had lightened his mood considerably, exactly what she had intended. Millicent had called her early this morning, the night nurse said he hadn't slept much, John didn't need to know they were checking up on him, it tended to make him a bit defensive.

"Oh, here's a doozie!" Helen exclaimed, marking it like the weather channel guys zeroing in on a hurricane.

"Gee thanks Helen, good to know I have nice veins." John replied sarcastically.

"And a nice smile, and a nice butt from what Stephanie says." Helen grinned at him.

He blushed, which only served to make Helen laugh out loud, "You're a mess!"

They settled into their usual banter and waited for his nurse to return to start the IV. The day was just beginning, and what looked to be a major pain in the neck, was turning out to be not all that bad. He didn't know where Gamma had found Helen Nussbaum, but he was sure glad she did.

"So, how is Stephanie doing?" John asked.

"Just fine, working, the usual stuff." Helen decided he didn't need to know she was in town. She'd probably be gone before the day was out anyway. "So, when are you moving back to your apartment?"

"Miss me?"

"Well, sure, yeah, I guess." Helen replied, "If you can miss a spoiled, rotten, incorrigible brat, sure."

"Hmph! I see how you are! If I'm that rotten why are you spending your day off here with this brat?"

"Charity. I have a sense of charity, besides, you make your Grandmother a nervous wreck."

"Oh..did she tell you that?"

"She wouldn't need to! I'm psychic too you know!" Helen simply stated.

"Oh please!"

Their conversation was interrupted when Darlene, the day nurse, approached with the new IV and his morning meds.

"Good morning! I see we are in a better mood!" Darlene said.

"She must be talking about you." John looked over at Helen.

"Doubtful." Helen said.

"Okay, let's find a good vein this time shall we?"

Helen pointed out her find, and Darlene deftly inserted the IV.

"Ouch! What do they teach you guys, to do this on dart boards?" John complained.

"As a matter of fact..." Helen answered for them both, "Yes. Is that a problem?"

John decided he was outnumbered, and silence was the best response.

Darlene proceeded to tape the IV catheter in place and gave him the rundown for the day, before she had even finished, the transporter arrived to take him for the first of his tests.

"Hang on, I have to get the contrast in." Darlene told the transporter, "Are you ready now?"

The transporter looked at his watch, "scheduled at 7:45, and running on time."

"Okay, now you shouldn't really feel anything, maybe a little warmth as I inject the contrast." Darlene explained.

John stayed quiet and watched as the contrast was injected, definitely a little warmth, but he said not a word. His face flushed considerably, and he could feel his heart racing in his chest, but he didn't say a word. The last thing he wanted was not to be able to tolerate the contrast, and end up having Romano root around in surgery looking for 'the little bugger.'

"Okay, all ready." Darlene announced.

He didn't even argue about the wheelchair, he thought he may be sick, suddenly he was very nauseous.

"You're too quiet...you okay?" Helen asked.

"Yeah, a little nauseous."

Helen grabbed the emesis basin, just in case, never hurt to think a few steps ahead.

They hadn't made it too far, when the basin was put to use. Helen had remembered the contrast making him sick before.

"Can I just go back to bed?" John asked.

"No, we need to get this done and over with, you can do this." Helen encouraged him as he wiped the perspiration from his face. "Ready to go now?"

"Ready as I'll ever be." He replied his stomach doing the wave once again.



Part 11
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