One Day At A Time




"So, when are you going to tell him that you're staying in Chicago?" Helen asked.

"I haven't really given it much thought." Stephanie called from the kitchen.

Helen sat reading her magazine, trying to get her stomach to digest all she had eaten at dinner.

Stephanie came back into the living room with the two steaming cups of hot tea, and handed one to Helen.

"Thanks Steph."

They fell into a comfortable silence.

"I have an appointment with the Board of Education tomorrow morning, but I should be home by noon. Do you know what John's schedule is like?"

"I have a feeling, if John has his way, he'll be coming home tomorrow." Helen answered.

"He looked good, considering." Stephanie replied.

"He needs to be home, that'll do him a world of good. He's so sick and tired of being sick and tired. I think being at home and getting back to normal would be the best thing for him, no matter what Dr. Benton thinks." Helen snorted this last remark.

"I thought you liked Dr. Benton?"

"I do, it's not that, he's starting to act like a mother hen. John's a big boy, he can take care of himself, Peter just has to trust him to do just that." Helen explained, "You know, it's like when you first started riding a bike, I had to run next to you, but only so far, you had to rely on yourself, and your own good judgment after that. I had to trust that you would at some point, and let you do it all on your own. It's not easy to do, but at some point, you just have to."

"I think I understand what you're saying. John needs to start relying on himself more, trusting his own good judgment, and Peter needs to let him do that."

"Exactly."

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

John awoke with a start, breathing hard. His face and hair were drenched with perspiration. The bed sheets were twisted all over, and lying halfway on the floor. He glanced up at the clock, 2:40 a.m., his bewitching hour. Why was it he awoke from these nightmares at about the same time, it was strange. He thought for a moment that he should see a psychiatrist, it would be good to have someone to talk to, someone who had no idea what had happened to him, what had gone through his mind as he lay there watching his med student bleeding to death, and unable to do a damned thing about it. It was kinda strange, now that he thought about it, he had always been on Lucy to take charge, do something, use your head...and there he was, unable to follow his own advise to her. He thought maybe if he wouldn't have froze up, if he would have realized what the first pain had been, had turned, and grabbed the knife away from Sobricki, then maybe, maybe Lucy would still be alive...or maybe...he would have been stabbed in the chest, and would be just as dead as Lucy is now. In some ways, that would have been easier, to at least have died trying to get away, trying to do something, anything...instead of freezing up, confused, and letting him have another go at his back.

His dreams were beginning to become very bothersome in the fact that they were the same night after night, and every night they ended the same...awaking in a cold sweat, heart racing, fighting for air. He would give anything just to make that stop. He could handle the "survivor guilt" that's what they called it, that constant nagging feeling that you don't have the right to be here, to be alive...he could handle that, but this constant fight in himself, the battle going on in his head while he was asleep, that was another story.

He had come to his decision in the wee hours of the morning. He had thought about it for some time before this, and would for some time after, but he had heard of a psychiatrist at Northwestern who did wonders for PTSD patient's. He would look him up as soon as he was out of here.

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

Helen padded softly through the dark, quiet apartment toward the ringing phone, "Hello?" She answered.

"Hi Helen, this is Rose from County?"

Helen's heart skipped a frantic beat, she hated these phone calls in the middle of the night. She glanced over at the clock 2:05 a.m.

"It looks like we're short a few nurses, we've had two go home sick-flu bug-is there any way you could come in?"

Helen was silent, more from catching her breath than by anything else, Rose took that as hesitation, and upped the ante.

"Time and a half?"

Helen sighed heavily, as her heart rate slowed to a more normal rate.

"Okay, I'll make sure you get Saturday off..."

"Okay, I'm on my way." Helen said, she hadn't made any demand, but as short as nurses were, they'd give you a ride to work if you needed it just to get you there, and then buy you lunch on top of it! Helen quickly dressed, and left a note for Stephanie. She headed out toward the El, mace in one hand, club in the other. She was no fool. Next time anyone even looked cross ways at her, they'd be sorry that's for sure! The streets were quiet, and Helen made it to the platform uneventfully, save for a few drunks. Hopefully, they wouldn't be too busy and she could take a few moments to drop in on John.

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

John was wide awake. He got up out of the sweat-drenched bed, and made his way into the bathroom. He dragged the IV pole behind him, and only caught the tubing once, a record for him. He didn't know how people learned to deal with these things, dragging this, plugging that, just to go to the bathroom. He splashed some cool water over his face, and changed his clothes. He didn't feel the slightest bit dizzy as he leaned over to remove his sweat pants, which deserved their name tonight. He looked intently at the thin scar line he'd have, no big deal, actually, it looked to him, as he further peeled away the bandage, that they had revised his original scar. It didn't look anywhere near the monstrosity he remembered. He finished changing, and decided to take a walk. No one was around, and he didn't want to bother the night nurse, he was sure Lisa was gone, so he didn't even know who to tell. He wasn't sneaky about it, he walked right past the deserted nurses' station and toward the elevator. He pushed the down button, and decided to go downstairs, toward the ER, maybe say hello. He was bored out of his mind, couldn't sleep, and he needed the exercise. He knew Helen would have his head for going unescorted, but he really did feel just fine.

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

Helen had entered as usual through the ER doors, it was just more convenient when you took the EL, and she had gotten into the habit. She noted the deserted desk and the silence of the ER...was it the calm before the storm, or had they transferred all of their patient's to the ICU, which was why she was called in....Helen suspected the latter.

She made her way toward the elevators, and poked her finger at the up button. She waited momentarily before the doors opened.

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

John looked up in shocked surprise as the doors opened.

"What are you doing mister?" Helen asked.

"Just looking for you Helen! I'm so glad I found you....I...." John stammered.

"You know darned good and well I was not scheduled to come in" Helen consulted her watch, "especially at this hour...what are you up to?"

John stood there with a slightly sheepish grin on his face, "just out for a stroll?"

"A stroll at 2:30 in the morning....sure, from you, I can accept that." Helen sighed.

"I couldn't sleep..." John started before realizing he couldn't BS his way through this with Helen, sure, she'd pretend she'd bought every line, but he knew she didn't.

"Did you take your Ambien?" Helen asked.

"No." John replied, "It makes me groggy in the morning."

"Oh...so strolling at 2:30 is a better trade-off?"

"I had a nightmare." John blurted it out, and wished he could take it back.

"Bad one?" Helen asked, not pressing him for details.

"Yeah."

"I'm headed up to the ICU, they're short-handed, want to hang out for a bit? I could put you to work."

"I'm sure you could...actually...yeah...that does sound like a good idea."

Helen knew better than to press, she was surprised he even told her that much. She knew, and he knew she did, but the nightmares...she wished there was something to make it stop...a magic pill...something...but John had to work through them himself, she couldn't do it for him, nor could anyone else. There was no magic pill.

She felt for his hand, as she stared at the blinking lights of the elevator indicating the floors they were passing. She squeezed his hand and said nothing.

As the elevator doors opened, they made their way into the ICU...charts stacked in every direction, nurses busy with patients...QA..chart QA...it was definitely needed.

John didn't need Helen to tell him what to do, she stored her things under the desk and grabbed him the most comfortable chair she could find. Then, she grabbed him two pens, and put a load of charts down in front of him.

"There you go, if that doesn't make you sleepy I don't know what will."

Three hours later, John was more energized than ever, he was down to two charts left as he stretched his arms out. The hand that the IV was in, ached, but in a good way. He felt useful. No one really said anything to him. He was in sweats, a t-shirt and a lab coat Helen had found for him, no one really said anything about the IV pole next to him, they just put their charts down on the desk, and brought him juice every so often.

Helen called the floor hours before, so the night nurse wouldn't freak out when she found John gone, although he hadn't given it a thought. It hadn't occurred to him that someone would miss him on the floor.

At 6:45 a.m. the last chart went from his hands back into the rack. Done. He cleaned up his juice cups, and stood to stretch. He thought he had better get out of here before rounds, if Benton caught him hanging out, he'd be in for it.

Helen glanced up at the clock, almost time for morning rounds. She let her co-workers know she was taking their help back to the floor.

His IV bag was almost empty when they got in the elevator, and Helen had him hold the door to grab some more fluids. She didn't want the night nurse angry with her for letting it run dry right before report for the day shift.

Helen changed the bag, and held the old one until they got to his floor. He crawled into bed, actually tired.

"I'll come in before I leave this afternoon, you be good now." Helen admonished.

"Not a problem, and Helen....thank you."

She kissed his forehead, "No, thank you, I'd have been here until next week finishing all of those charts, you really helped us out."

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

Peter exited the elevator, and was shocked to see how neat and tidy the chart racks were. He had been paged no less than 20 times last night, and he expected to see a grand mess. He grabbed a few charts from the rack and went over the notes for his patients for the night. The charts had already been QA'd. As busy as they had been, he was pleasantly surprised that he didn't have that task ahead of him...hold it...he knew that signature...what the hell was Carter doing down here at 3:00 in the morning? He looked over the nurses on last night, and saw Helen had been called in...that explained that. Well, the charts were QA'd and done correctly, the ICU was calm, and Carter looked like he was trying to get back into normalcy, at least as normal as it got. He'd have to let him squirm a bit when he saw him this morning though, deservedly so...

Helen got off of the elevator and saw Peter standing at the chart rack, "Good morning Dr. Benton." She said a bit overzealously.

"Well, I see you've put a new employee to work here last night." Peter continued looking at the chart, not once glancing up at Helen.

"He couldn't sleep, and I found him wandering around the hospital...at least this way, I can keep and eye on him, besides, we were slammed, we could use the help."

"Uh, hmmm.." Peter said, never taking his eyes off of the chart, "Looks good."

He walked off to see his first patient of the day.



Part 18
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