One Day At A Time




The next morning...

John awoke with a vague feeling of unease. He didn't remember where he was or how he got here, that cleared up momentarily when he went to roll over and caught the Foley tubing in the railing of the bed, as well as the pain in his belly reaching a crescendo that rivaled the worst kick to the gut he brother could dish out when they were kids. He made, what he felt at the time, the wise decision to stay put.

He groaned, then sucked at his lip, he didn't want anyone to hear him. He wanted to be up and out of here, the sooner the better as far as he was concerned. He would feel much better at home, his home. He glanced up at the clock, it was 8:30..he was unsure if that was a.m. or p.m., but a glance out the window told him it was a.m.

He tried to roll over onto his side, his back was killing him. He had lay in this position for probably hours on end, and his back was screaming at him to get off of it! He went to roll on his side, holding onto the side rail of the bed..he took a deep breath and pulled himself over. He lay half on his back and half on his side, gasping to catch his breath, and praying no one would walk in just now. He bit his lower lip as soon as the pain decrescendoed to a dull roar, and tried to scoot his hips back. As of now, it looked like he was holding onto the railing for dear life. This would have been the assumption of anyone passing by, had the door been open, which thankfully, it was not. His attempt to scoot his hips back was unsuccessful. He had succeeded only in moving closer to the railing, his face against the cool metal. The call light had slipped down between the rails and clanked onto the floor.

This was not good.

After the wave of pain had dulled slightly, he was better able to think logically.

"All right," he said, "if I can't pull, I'll push myself over." This sounded perfectly logical to him, as he pushed himself, succeeded only in completely dislodging the sheets. He was in quite a mess now.

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

Elizabeth looked over the chart in the nurseserver, hearing vague noises coming from the room she was about to enter. She grabbed the chart, and opened the door.

"Carter, what are you doing?" Elizabeth asked in her clipped British accent as she took in the scene before her.

He had managed to get himself somewhat on his side, but the pillows were on the floor, with the call light, the sheets were all completely dislodged from the bed, his feet entangled in them, the Foley was pulled to it's limit, and his IV line was wrapped around the railings, and his face was flush with the bed rails.

"I just wanted to get off of my back, my back is killing me." He grinned at her somewhat sheepishly.

"You know, there is no crime in asking for help." She said.

"I know, but..." He pointed to the call light on the floor. He didn't tell her that he had no intention of using it, but for all intent and purpose, this explained the situation best.

Elizabeth quickly came to his aid, fixing first the sheets, then pulling him with the draw sheet in the middle of the bed, onto his side, and lodging a large pillow at his back and between his legs.

Next, she disentangled the IV lines, and the Foley, while mentioning, that he really didn't want to pull this out...etc. etc. etc.

John listened, looking duly chastised, and feigning innocence regarding his lack of good judgment.

Elizabeth checked his blood pressure, pulse and respirations on the chart from the night and this morning's vitals..."good, very good."

"I need to listen to your belly."

"Don't tell me you have to have me roll back over."

"No, you're fine."

"Hey, that's cold!" John complained as she positioned the stethoscope on his abdomen.

"Sorry, I'll warm it for you next time." Elizabeth smiled and her own sarcastic comment.

"Well?" John said, "Anything yet?"

"Not yet, but soon. You need to get up to walk today, at least twice. And, I want you to be up in the chair as well. The sooner you get moving, the sooner bowel function returns, and the sooner you get out of here." Elizabeth stated

"Sure, whatever you say." John rolled his eyes at her.

"Be good now, and you'll be out of here in no time. You are doing quite well considering."

John nodded his head in agreement.

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

Helen exited the shower, and heard the sounds of someone cooking in the kitchen. "Oh good," she thought, "Stephanie to the rescue."

Helen was starved, and wanted to get back to the hospital. She had called Millicent last evening to let her know how John was doing. No one, so far, had been able to track down his parents. If she lived to be 100, she would never understand this family, nor did she care to dwell on it. It made her angry. She was not a nice person at all, when angered. She let it go. She learned long ago, that when things are out of your control, it's best to just let it go, and do what you can. She was glad she had John and John felt the same about her. Both were basically orphaned, Helen's at least, had been by death, and not by abandonment. John rarely talked about his family. Helen gathered he was not comfortable discussing it, or maybe he just thought it was just the way it was, no use in rehashing it constantly. Whichever way he felt about it, it still ticked Helen off to no end.

"Let it go Helen." She told herself as she dressed for the day.

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

Stephanie was indeed cooking up a storm in the kitchen. Cinnamon rolls, eggs, bacon, coffee, juice, fresh squeezed even, and fresh fruit slices. She had a new outlook on life, and hummed happily as she went about the task at hand.

Helen walked out into the kitchen and nearly scared the life out of Stephanie, who was so deep in her own thoughts, she didn't hear her aunt approaching.

"Good morning Steph!" Helen called.

Stephanie nearly jumped out of her skin. "Aunt Helen, I didn't even hear you..do you have those sneaky nurse shoes on?"

Helen laughed, "No, but you did kind of seem lost in her thoughts, care to discuss anything?"

"Well, yes, as a matter of fact I do want to discuss something with you. Let's eat first though."

Helen sat down and complimented Stephanie on the wonderful breakfast. Helen hadn't eaten much the last few days, and she was ravenous.

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

"Okay Dr. Carter, my name is Lisa, and I'm your nurse today. I'm going to give you a shot of morphine, and then we're going to move to the chair."

To John, Lisa sounded way too cheerful, and there was no WE about this, he was going to move to the chair, she was just here to help with the torture.

"Are we grumpy today?" Lisa asked.

"NO, we are NOT grumpy today." John replied, sounding quite grumpy.

Lisa unceremoniously lifted the sheet, exposing his left hip, and without so much as a warning, sunk the needle into him and emptied it.

"OW! You could have told me you were going to do that!"

"I just did Dr. Carter, I said, first I'm going to give you a shot and then..."

"Yeah, okay fine...now, WE are going to move into the chair right?"

"That's it! You are with the program after all!"

"You are with the program..." John mocked under his breath. The one thing he couldn't stand, besides a cocky surgeon, was a syrupy sweet nurse.

He wished Helen were here. She was never syrupy sweet. She didn't take any crap from him, and she never said WE are going to do this, and WE are going to do that...it just served to tick him off anyway.

"Are we ready to get in that chair now?" Lisa asked.

"How old are you?" John asked.

"What does that have to do with anything Dr. Carter?" Lisa asked clearly annoyed that her plans for what THEY were going to do, was not going the way she had planned. She was very busy this morning.

"Well, I just wondered, and how much do you weigh? There is no way you are going to be able to help me to that chair, WE are going to need some help."

"For the record, I'm 22, just graduated from nursing school, and I am perfectly capable of helping you get YOURSELF into that chair, now are WE ready?"

"No, WE are not! You can't be more than 100 pounds, what are you 5 foot? I'm over 6 feet tall, this is NOT going to work."

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

Peter listened outside of the door, his mind at ease over Carter's condition. If he was feeling well enough to argue, he'd be fine. He listened as a smile played on his lips, as Carter argued with the poor nurse, who was only trying to do her job, albeit a little too "cheerfully."

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

"Now, Dr. Carter, they teach us at great length the mechanics of proper body positioning for lifting and I've been working on this floor for two whole months, I am perfectly capable of helping you get into that chair, 6 foot or not." Lisa was still smiling as she thought about what the charge nurse had told her before she stepped into the room..."Doctors make the worst patients." Lisa did believe, the charge nurse was correct. She stood there smiling sweetly, as her "patient" continued his argument, "this won't work," and "there is no way..."

She just smiled as she moved the chair at a 90 degree angle from the bed, and listened as he continued arguing his point, as she got his slippers on, and pulled the covers back.

"Didn't you hear a word I said? OW!" He exclaimed as she rolled the head of the bed up in preparation for their less than a foot journey to the chair.

"Oops, sorry, was that uncomfortable? That morphine should have kicked in by now."

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

Peter decided to get this poor nurse out of her misery, and opened the door.

"Carter, quit arguing and get your ass in the chair."

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

"Well," Helen said between bites, "what's the good word?"

"Okay, I found a new job." Stephanie said, waiting for her aunt to ask more...which she didn't....

Stephanie went on..."it's here, in Chicago."

"Here! What made you decide to move here? I thought you told me you didn't want to leave home just yet!"

"Are you upset?" Stephanie asked.

"NO, no, not at all, I just, I'm just a little surprised is all, happily surprised I might add!"

Helen was overjoyed. Stephanie was really the only family she had left, and loved the thought of her living in the same city.

"Well, I went on a few job interviews, from leads I had gotten the last visit here. I took a job with the Chicago Public School System, I'll be in the classroom, but I am going to make out the Kindergarten curriculum. They want some new blood, and I just knew this was the job for me. I wanted to put my degree to work! I love teaching, I really do, but in this capacity, I'll still be in the classroom and I get to do what I love, which is getting good, classroom materials where they should be, not in a warehouse somewhere, but in our classrooms."

"Stephanie this is just wonderful news!" Helen said, standing and walking the short distance to where Stephanie sat, and gave her a big hug.

"I'm happy with the job, and I really fell in love with Chicago. I hope you don't mind me staying with you, until I can find my own place."

"No, not at all! I have two bedrooms, and I work mostly nights and evenings, you'll be on days, this will work out perfectly!" Helen said.

"One more question" Stephanie said, "do you mind if I accompany you to the hospital today, I'd like to say hi to John. I know we haven't talked much and really there is no relationship, I know he's had a lot of things going on, and well, not that I want to rekindle anything, not now, at least, but I would like to say hello."

"Not a problem, should I call to let him know, or do you want to surprise him?" Helen asked.

"I'd rather surprise him." Stephanie replied.

"Great, we'll leave as soon as we clean up, okay?" Helen asked.

"Sounds good to me!" Stephanie was eager to see John again, though, she didn't want her aunt to read anything more into it.

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

"Oh, hi Dr. Benton, thought you were at a conference?" John asked.

"I was, it ended yesterday, now get you butt in the chair." Peter was his usual no-nonsense self.

"I was just commenting on the fact that this nice young lady, seems a little...well...if I fell..or got dizzy...or..." John was interrupted.

"Carter, she's a nurse, she's trained...if she thought she needed more help, she would ask for it. Now get your butt in the chair."

"Why thank you Dr. Benton." Lisa said as she lowered the side rail.

Peter just waved her off...whatever it said...don't make too much of it...I know this guy.

Lisa went to grab John under the arm. He pulled back. " I can do this." He said.

"Carter..." Peter was getting ticked, "just let the girl do her job."

Lisa again, went to straighten him up, "if you hold that little pillow on your belly, it won't hurt as bad...just apply a gentle counterpressure, we'll count to three and..."

"I know the drill." John said clearly beaten.

Lisa got him straightened up, "sit on the side of the bed for a minute, to make sure you don't get dizzy."

John continued to move forward.

"Dr. Carter, you may want to sit at the side of the...."

He placed his feet on the floor, and started to get up. Black dots crossed his field of vision, he was determined he was doing this on his own. He swayed on his feet, reaching for the hand rail, which was no longer there.

Peter caught his arm on the opposite side, and moving Lisa out of his way, moved John to the chair.

"I think I'm gonna throw up." John said.

"If you would have...." Peter started, but was interrupted by Lisa, trying to get the emesis basin to him in time.

John's face took on an ashen color, that was none to healthy looking at the moment, and proceeded to vomit all over the floor, and Peter Benton's shoes.

Lisa handed him the pan, after the fact.

"Next time, nurse, you should have this a bit closer to the bed. It's very common for postoperative patients to get nauseous the first time they get out of bed. This is a lesson for you, have the pan close at hand."

Peter left the room, returning a few minutes later with shoe covers on, a scrub top and pants.

After cleaning up John, changing the bed, making sure the emesis basin was close at hand, and the call light within reach, as Dr. Corday had gotten on the nursing staff about that one, Lisa gave John another sweet syrupy smile, "anything else you need right now?"

"Do I still get ice chips?" John asked, dismal and a little embarrassed that he had thrown up all over the place. It happened so fast...he felt a little sick to his stomach then it was all over.

"A few, take it easy though." Lisa said, without the sweet smile this time. She almost felt bad for him, even though he had been a pill about getting up.

"Thanks...did I get you too?" He asked.

"A little, but don't worry about it, it goes with the job." Lisa patted his hand, "really, it's okay, Dr. Benton on the other hand..."

"Oh God..." John said rolling his eyes, "I cannot believe I threw up on Benton."

Lisa laughed under her breath, "it's good for him, can't let these surgeons think their too good for scut work now can we?"

John had to smile at that one. "Yeah, you're right on that one!"

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

Peter returned, after cleaning up, and pulled up a chair next to John's.

"Sorry about that." John said after several minutes of silence had elapsed.

"No problem Carter, just don't make a habit of it." Peter replied.

"So, how was your conference?"

"In a word..boring!"

"Bummer, nothing worse than a boring medical conference, oh, yeah, I can think of something worse." John said.

"So can I." Peter replied, "getting barfed on by an uncooperative patient."

John laughed, even though it hurt, and saw Benton actually crack a smile at his own joke.

"Let me see the staple job." Peter asked.

He lifted the gown, and looked at the staple line, "well, at least they used the same scar line."

"Whoopee" John sarcastically replied.

"Man, your belly is really distended...does this hurt?" Peter asked.

John about jumped out of the chair, "No..." He lied rather badly, as he tried to catch his breath. He felt like he was going to be sick again...and grabbed for the pan on the bed.

Peter turned on the call light, and Lisa returned.

"Oh my, are we still sick to our stomach?" She asked.

"Yes," Peter responded, "WE are. I want a portable abdomen."

John still had his head down in the pan that Lisa had replaced with a wash basin. The emesis basin wasn't doing the job.

She put a cool washcloth on his neck. He was unable to say a word, his belly was on fire, and he was feeling dizzy again.

"Maybe it's just the morphine that's making you sick Dr. Carter."

"Lisa, get a portable X-Ray in here, okay?"

"Will do Dr. Benton, are you going to stick around? I don't want to leave him alone."

"Yeah, just get the X-Ray okay?"

Lisa hurried off to put in the order for the tech, she labeled it "stat." Dr. Benton, she did not want to cross.

"Come on Carter," Peter said, "Let's get you back to bed."

John's vision was clouded with the little black dots again, and his legs felt like rubber.

"Carter?" Peter tried to get his attention again, to no avail. He shook his shoulder, "Carter?" He called louder.

The Dynamap, Lisa had replaced on his arm once he was situated in the chair, inflated on his arm, giving a blood pressure reading of 60/40, and a pulse of 50.

"Carter, hey man, I'm gonna get you back in bed, can you stand up?"

John could hear Benton's voice, but it sounded so far away. He tried to lift his head up, and it wouldn't cooperate, he slumped over the side of the chair as another wave of dizziness and nausea washed over him, all he wanted to do was go to sleep.

Peter noted John's face flush, then go white as a sheet as he slumped over in the chair.

Peter turned on the call light, waited less than a minute, with his feet firmly placed in front of John's so he wouldn't slide out of the chair and onto the floor.

"Carter? Hey...can you hear me?" John could hear him, but he couldn't tell him that...he sounded so far away.

Peter was in the middle of lifting him back into the bed, when Lisa showed up, X-Ray technician in tow.

"What happened?" She asked.

"I'm not sure, help me get him back to bed." Peter was struggling under John's dead weight.

John could hear him, hear Lisa, but his mouth would not obey what his brain was telling it to do. He felt no pain, he felt nothingness...like a feeling of floating along...

"Carter?" Peter called again, flashing his penlight in his eyes.

Lisa hit the Dynamap again, and the cuff once again, inflated on John's arm.

"Pulse is 40, blood pressure, 60/40."

Peter listened to John's abdomen with his stethoscope, still no bowel sounds.

"Carter? If you can hear me squeeze my hand!" Peter called again, and placed his hand in John's. No squeezing, nothing.

John was telling his hand to squeeze, but it wouldn't do it...he needed to sleep, just close his eyes and go to sleep. He was so tired off of the sudden...

"Carter! Hey! Can you hear me?" Peter called a bit louder, but again, received no response.

"Get the crash cart in here!"



Part 15
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