Remedy




The music played softly as John drove further and further into the core of Chicago. Carly appeared to be resting comfortably in the back seat of the car. She would occasionally moan as she fell into a deep feverish sleep.

The traffic had been horrible that afternoon. It was normal to expect long delays around six in the evening, but John guessed that a car accident or a minor fender bender was the cause of the complete stand still.

"Oh, God," Carter could hear Carly say as she vomited into the small plastic bag that she had found in the back seat of the car.

"Carly, are you okay?" John asked as he peered in the back seat to check on her condition.

"I just want to go home and sleep. I haven't felt this horrible in a long time," Carly whispered.

"Go back to sleep. We won't get anywhere near your hotel for quite a while," John said as he smiled at her.

John stared at her in the rearview mirror. Her blue shirt clung tightly to her sweaty torso. Carly's golden skin now looked more gray than it did tanned and healthy. Her eyes were closed tightly and a few drops of sweat poured down the sides of her face. She was curled up into a tight ball. Her blonde hair was damp and clinging to her neck and face.

"You know, you did this too me," Carly said coarsely.

"Didn't you get the flu shot this winter?"

"Yes, did you?"

"Yes."

"Thank you so much for producing resistant strains that make good, deserving people miserable," Carly said with a slight smile on her lips.

"That's what you get for taking our interactive tour," John bantered.

"So do I get to be the patient now?" Carly asked as she lay back down.

The car became silent again. Outside horns were blaring, as people became increasingly impatient with the standstill traffic jam. The sky was pitch black now. A few navy clouds would pass in front of the moon occluding the light that shone down on the freeway. The radio still softly played in the background. John's thoughts were interrupted by a choking noise coming from the back seat.

"Carly, are you okay?" John asked as he turned around to check on Carly.

Carly's body wildly convulsed and jerked in large sporadic movements. Her blonde hair flipped wildly a long with her seizure. Her brown eyes became glassy and non-responsive. Saliva and vomit began to seep out the side of her mouth, as the seizure became increasingly violent.

"Oh, God. Carly," John said as he threw the car into park and rushed to the back door.

A few curious on-lookers briefly feigned interest in the situation, but no one came to John's aid as he shouted for someone to call 911. John climbed into the back seat and tried to hold Carly down until her seizure lessened, but his attempts were thwarted when Carly's arm struck him hard in the face. He tried to secure Carly on her side so the vomit would not aspirate into her lungs. After a few minutes, John was able to hold her down and secure her on her side using two seat belts.

John wildly rummaged through his leather satchel in search of a cellular phone, so he could call for help. He called the ambulance company directly and explained the situation and location, but the operator said that the traffic jam would prevent the passage of the ambulance to the scene. John became enraged when the operator suggested helicopter assistance or just holding out until traffic cleared, which John guessed could be anywhere from a half an hour to an hour wait.

John punched the ER's desk number into his cell phone. He was still searching for a way to get Carly to the hospital before she aspirated or started to seize again. John became increasingly nervous every time the telephone rang again. He prayed that someone would answer.

"County General. This is Dr. Greene. How can I help you?" Dr. Greene said nonchalantly.

"Mark, can you hear me?" Carter shouted into the cell phone, but the static made his words barely audible.

"Carter, is that you? I can barely hear you," Dr. Greene said with obvious fright in his voice.

"Mark, Carly is seizing. Her pulse and respirations are tachy and irregular. Her eyes are still reactive, but sluggish. She complained of body aches and vomited a few times. Then, she started seizing. I think it's a grand mol, I was driving so I couldn't see her," Carter shouted. Mark could hear that Carter's voice was full of panic and concern.

"Is an ambulance coming?"

"No, I'm driving us in. I cannot get one out to the scene because of the traffic jam. Our ETA is 15 minutes. I will pull right into the ambulance bay. Be ready for us," Carter shouted as the static became louder.

"See you then, Carter," Mark said.

John threw the phone into the car and began to think of ways to move from the center lane to the left lane, so he could U-turn in the police service way. He ran to the drive side window of the car next to him. John frantically motioned for the old, balding man to roll down his window.

"Sir, I need to cut in front of you. My friend had a seizure and if I don't get her to the hospital she might die," John yelled frantically not bothering to sugar coat the situation at hand.

The man looked at John curiously. He threw the car into reverse and inched back a few feet, nearly straight into the bumper of the woman behind him. John thanked him and the man wished him and his friend good luck. The man promptly went back to listening to his talk-radio show without a care in the world. John talked to the woman in the car in front of the man. She also promptly moved, but did so with a lack of concern.

"Carly, stay with me," John yelled as he slide back into the car and pulled around into the police turn around.

John pulled into traffic and sped forward trying to remember the easiest way back to County General. Within ten minutes, John rapidly approached Dr. Greene, Dr. Benton, and Dr. Chen. Their blue isolation gowns flapped as a cool wind blew against them.

"Carter, what's going on?" Dr. Benton asked as he and John crawled into the back seat to place a backboard underneath Carly.

"Breathing and respirations are tachy and irregular. Pulse is bounding at 112 BPM. Eyes are sluggish. Brief LOC. Emesis times three. Grand mol for five minutes. Unresponsive to sound or verbal stimuli, but does respond to pain," Carter rambled quickly as they prepared to transfer Carly to the gurney.

John's back muscles tightened and spasmed as he used all his strength to push the backboard forward. John slumped back into the seat as Dr. Greene, Dr. Benton, and Deb pushed the gurney through the doors and into the hospital. He sighed loudly and threw his head back against the seat. His shirt was soak with perspiration and his muscles felt heavy and tired. Although his body was exhausted, his mind was alive with fright. John wondered if Carly would be okay . . . John wondered how Romano would take the news and how he would manage to take the situation out on John.

"John, come inside. It's freezing out here," Deb said as she offered a hand to John to help him out of the low back seat.

"Deb, what did I do to her?" John asked as he kept staring ahead blankly.

"Don't do this to yourself. Come inside with me. We can go into the lounge," Deb said as she began to become annoyed with John's self-loathing attitude.

John allowed Deb to help him to his feet. John diligently picked up Carly's purse, the bag of vomit, and locked the doors before following Deb to the doors of the ambulance bay. He could hear the commotion going on around him, but he felt disconnected from the situation. It all seemed surreal. How could he let something like this happen to Anna's sister? He tried to tell himself that it was not his fault, but John knew he managed to hurt everyone he was close to or desired to be close to.

"John, Dr. Greene and Dr. Benton have her somewhat stabilized. She is intubated and receiving Dilotid for her seizures. Her blood pressure and heart rate are regular and within normal limits. Carolyn's blood sugar is low, but she will receive IV glucose to bring her up. I don't think she will wake up for a while, but she will be fine," Deb said as she watched John carefully put away his satchel and Carly's purse in his locker.

"Deb, remember that girl I told you about? The resident that I interned with . . . the one that left with her boyfriend?" John asked as he threw himself down on the sofa.

"The blonde that bailed you out of jail?" Deb asked as she sat next to John.

John had always fascinated Deb. He was compassionate, intelligent, and strong, but a bashful, wishful thinking man all at the same time. No matter how much John struggled, he always managed to come out on top. He was always there to talk to her when she needed him. Deb could even remember when John tried to talk her out of dropping out of medical school. He was there for the birth of her child. John was a special man, and Deb wished that he would find happiness somewhere with someone.

"Yeah, her. Thank you for always remembering the finer points in my life," John said sarcastically, "Carly is her sister. I nearly killed her sister."

"How? If you had not gotten her here as soon as you did, she would be dead. You know that, John," Deb scolded him.

"I gave her that flu that caused the seizures. I came into work sicker than hell this morning. I passed out this afternoon. I let her take care of me, when I knew that this strain is transmitted by respiratory droplets," John said accentuating his fault in the situation.

"John, it was her call to treat you as she did. You cannot blame yourself. Please, John," Deb pleaded.

John could feel the hot tears beginning to well in his eyes. He put his head in his hands and began to sob. John could feel Deb wrap her arms around him and draw him close to her. She held him and silently ran her hands through his hair. They sat together like that for a few minutes. John drew himself out of Deb's embrace and pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Thank you," John whispered.

Peter leaned up against the wall. He was exhausted from their efforts to save Romano's young niece. They had intubated, paralyzed, drawn blood, and all the other normal things, but this time with a greater urgency. They all knew there would be hell to pay if anything was to happen to Romano's niece, but they also knew that they could not let Carter down. For some reason, Carter seemed attached to the woman laying on the gurney. His voice was shaky and his hands quivered as they pulled the woman out of the car. There was a desperate urgency in Carter's voice as he begged them to save her.

He looked through the exam room doors at the young woman. Her blonde hair was drenched in sweat and sprayed wildly about her head. Her brown eyes were glassy as though she was trapped somewhere else in deep thought. Her arms lay loosely at her sides, and the hospital gown draped around her thin body. Peter picked up the telephone and dialed again.

"Romano residence," Robert said annoyed at the fact that someone would dare to call him during supper.

"Dr. Romano, it is Peter Benton. I am calling to inform you that your niece, Carolyn, was brought in earlier this evening," Peter said solemnly into the telephone. Peter could hear Romano swallow loudly, "She is stabilized and almost ready for transfer to room 520. She's being admitted to medicine for seizures, ketoacidosis, and dehydration."

"What the hell happened? I thought she was with Dr. Carter," Robert said angrily into the telephone.

"Carter said she started seizing on the way to a restaurant after complaining of flu-like symptoms. Carter drove her in. I guess they were stuck in traffic and an ambulance could not get out there fast enough," Peter said.

"Okay, I'll be right in. Have Mallucci or Carter sit with her just in case she wakes up. I don't want her to be left alone," Robert said as he hung up the telephone and hurried to get to the hospital.

Peter sighed and hung up the telephone. He walked slowly to the lounge and swung the door open. Carter lay against Dr. Chen's shoulder. Carter was sleeping peacefully and Deb was running her hands through Carter's hair. Peter stood conflicted as to whether he should wake Carter or whether he should let him continue to sleep.

"Chen, Romano wants Mallucci or Carter to sit with Carolyn until he gets here," Peter said softly as Deb shook her head slightly.

"Mallucci is asleep in one of the rooms. Get him . . . John needs to sleep," Deb said softly.

Peter silently left the lounge. He left Carter to seek solace in Dr. Chen and sleep. Peter assumed this was for the best as he gently shook Mallucci. He tried to explain to a groggy Mallucci what had happened and what he was expected to do. Mallucci instantly awoke and marched out of the exam room muttering obscenities under his breath.

"God damn son-of-a-bitch," Mallucci cursed loudly as head headed for the lounge.

Peter rushed after Mallucci afraid that he would pin all the blame on Carter. He ran after the man who angrily stalked toward the lounge. Peter had only seen this type on anger a few times before. He knew Mallucci was a very emotional man, but Peter had respected his ability to protect his patients . . . even if it occasionally got him in trouble.

Mallucci angrily swung open the door. He carefully scanned the room. He looked at how Carter was leaning against Deb. Carter looked peaceful, but Mallucci believed that he did not deserve the peacefulness he sought in the comfort of sleep and Deb. First, Carter had tried to steal the heart of his beautiful lover. Then, he tries to kill her and does not have the decency to see her through.

"What the hell did you do to her?" Mallucci yelled at Carter. Carter's head shot up and he struggled to his feet trying to explain to Dave. Dave kept approaching Carter despite Deb's pleas to leave him alone.

"Fucking bastard," Dave said as he threw John into the lockers. John cried out in pain and began to sink to the floor.

Dave marched out of the lounge and pushed passed Dr. Benton, who rushed toward Carter. He walked past Cleo without a word, although she asked how Carly was doing. He headed straight towards the elevator and punched the button for the fifth floor.



Part 9
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