WARNING: This story is sexually-explicit, involving homosexuality. Do not continue if this will offend you. If accessing this story causes you to break local laws (village, town, city, county, province, state, or country, etc.), please leave now.
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Cathy looked at me for direction. I hesitated for a moment before I nodded and told her to take him to the triage room. After the patient was stabilized, I joined him.
"How is he?" he asked.
"Are you related to him?"
"Not really, but he's like a brother to me."
"I'm afraid hospital policy prevents me from releasing information about his condition to anyone but immediate family."
With that, he burst into tears. "He's got to be alright. I can't let the last words I said to him be . . . it can't end like this."
This was breaking my heart. "What the hell?" I thought. "It's not like I'm known for following the rules."
"What's your name?" I asked him.
"Justin," he replied.
"I shouldn't tell you this, but your friend is stable. He's young and strong, and I think he'll be fine."
"Thank God."
"How did you know he was here?"
"I saw the accident on the news while you were trying to get him out."
"Great," I thought, "the media was there. My bosses get to see me break protocol first-hand. It's going be a long week of ass-chewings."
"How do we get in touch with his family?" I asked him.
"He's not from around here. The two of us are in town with three friends for a concert. His parents and little brother are on vacation, and I don't know how to reach them. He has a sister who's almost his age--she's at home."
"You should probably call her so she can let their parents know. You can use the phone here."
While he started talking to someone named Heather, I went back to check on the patient. The chest tube bubbled gently with suction. I picked up his chart and found that his vital signs were stable. They had given him some pain medicine, and he was out for the count. His nurse had cleaned him up. I placed my hand on his forehead and gently stroked the already scabbed over cut on his scalp. "Good. It won't scar." It occurred to me how handsome he was. He had dark hair and chiseled features. I wasn't entertaining any romantic notions--even though I'm a young nurse, I regarded all my patients with a kind of paternalism. I turned to rejoin Justin in the triage room when I heard an ominous sound. The monitor showed his heart had stopped.
"Son of a bitch! CODE BLUE!!!" I shouted as I began CPR. No breathing, no pulse--was this night ever going to end? After a few chest compressions, I heard the sickening cracking of some of his ribs. It happens all the time, but it's no less disturbing.
Good old Cathy was bringing in the crash cart. Though not a medical professional, all hospital personnel are required to be certified in CPR, so Cathy joined me and we switched to two-man rescue. She continued chest compressions while I pressed the ambu-bag firmly against his face. After a few squeezes, it occurred to me that I didn't have a good seal. Quickly surveying the situation, I realized there was a hole in face mask. "Damn it!"
I pinched his nose, careful to avoid the break, I placed my mouth on his. I blew with all my might. His chest rose and fell appropriately. "Thank God," I whispered.
Scott soon appeared, and Cathy and a nurse who had joined us filled him in. "Hold CPR," he said as he assessed breathing and heart rates. After a few seconds, "Continue. I'm going to intubate."
As the nurse was on her way down with another chest compression, the patient vomited up everything he'd eaten since grade school. Unfortunately, my mouth was going down on his for another breath at the time. "This just keeps getting better and better" was all I could muster as I scooped both our mouths clean and continued.
Scott effortlessly slid the endo-tracheal tube past the vocal cords. "One amp epi on board," I announced as I pushed the last of the medicine in the syringe.
As the respiratory therapist quickly punched in the settings for the ventilator, the nurse declared, "We've got a rhythm."
"V-fib," I announced, "charging two hundred." I placed the paddles squarely on his chest. "CLEAR!" His back arched in that inhuman way as 200 joules of electricity raced through him.
"V-tach," Scott read from the monitor. "Do we have a pulse?"
"No," Cathy said as she pressed her fingers into his groin, feeling for a femoral pulse.
"Charging three hundred. CLEAR!" I shouted.
"We've got a pulse," Cathy smiled.
"Do we have a pressure?" Scott asked.
"Systolic of 70," the nurse answered.
"Hang some Dopamine--800 in 250. Titrate for effect--systolic greater than or equal to 90."
"Yes, doctor," the nurse replied as she carried out his instructions immediately.
Scott looked at me with a solemn expression, "We'll discuss things another time."
I had the sinking feeling we'd do just that.
I walked out to the triage area. He was gone.
"I sent him back to the waiting room," Cathy said, answering my unspoken question.
I looked through the glass to see Justin sitting with the three other guys he mentioned. I tapped on the window and motioned for them to come back.
I explained what had happened and what was being done. I told them that though he'd taken a turn for the worse, I was still optimistic.
Justin fell to hysterics. He yelled incoherently and punched me square in the jaw, knocking me back. The other guys grabbed him and tried to help him regain his composure while apologizing vehemently to me for his behavior.
I proceeded as though nothing had happened. "Any word from his sister?"
"She'll be here tomorrow," one of them answered. "Can we see him?"
"Not yet. It will be a while. The best thing you can do for him or yourselves is go home and get some rest. I'll call you if there's any change."
"Thanks, . . . ?" another of them spoke up.
"Matt," I replied. "Just leave your number with Cathy and . . . ."
"NO!" Justin announced. "I'm not leaving."
"Just--" yet another of them began speaking to their friend.
"NO! End of discussion--I'm staying."
The other guys looked at me with a "what do we do now?" look.
"It's okay," I smiled. "You guys go ahead, we'll keep an eye on him, too."
They agreed and went back to the hotel. I turned to Justin him and handed him a key from my key ring.
"This is a key to my sleep room upstairs. You get some rest. If anything happens, you're only one floor away."
"Promise me you'll stay with him."
"They'll keep a close watch on him, Justin."
"PROMISE ME!" he screamed hysterically.
I could tell there was more going on here than I knew. I nodded. Oh well, so much for sleeping in my own bed today.
Thankfully, or sadly, depending on the perspective, I had slept in a hospital chair before, so I didn't have too much difficulty getting some rest. One of the IV pumps ran out of fluid, and the beeping of the alarm finally roused me from my slumber. I assumed everyone was busy, so I climbed out of my makeshift bed and made my way to the medicine cabinet where IV fluids are kept. I grabbed a bag and walked back to the room.
Too many times of doing this, and I had changed the bag in the dark and reset the pump before I knew it. I started to head back to the chair when a hand grabbed my arm. I looked down, and he was awake, panicking at his new surroundings. He was reaching for the tube in his throat, and the soft wrist restraints on him arm weren't offering much resistance. I pushed his arms down.
"Cindy, get in here!" I yelled.
Cindy came running to help me keep him from pulling the tube out. She tightened the restraints, and he began struggling even harder.
"Don't, Cindy," I told her as I grabbed both of his arms and placed my face right in his. I had an idea.
"Joshua, look at me. Do you remember me?"
His grip loosened slightly as he nodded.
"Do you remember me telling you how your lung had collapsed?"
He didn't nod, but I could see that he did.
"The tube in your throat is to help you breathe. There's a balloon on the end that keeps it in place. Pulling it out without deflating it could cause serious damage to your windpipe. Cindy over there is going to tighten those wrist restraints on to protect you, so don't, okay?"
He again nodded, and Cindy and I smiled to each other before she went back to the nurses' station.
I looked to him once more, "I know that you're scared, but everything will be okay. If your blood gases continue to improve, they'll pull the tube out in the morning. Until then, try to get some rest. I'll be sitting right over there."
I turned towards the chair when I saw his arms move in my peripheral vision. I immediately thought he was reaching for the ET tube again, but instead he grabbed my arm like it was a lifeline. I wasn't quite sure what to do, so I used my foot to drag the chair to me. I relaxed in the chair and we both returned to sleep while he squeezed my hand.
In the early morning, one of the phlebotomists came in to draw arterial blood gases. When he work up and saw the needle, he came unglued. I put myself between him and the needle so he couldn't see it coming.
"Look at me again. Have I ever lied to you since I met you?"
He shook his head.
"The needle will hurt, but you'll survive. If you want that tube out of your throat, he has to draw this blood. When it hurts, squeeze my hand, okay?"
He nodded, and when the bevel of the needle broke his skin, I thought he was going to break my hand. As the needle withdrew, so did his hand. He quickly returned to sleep while I got up to get a cup of coffee.
The morning dragged on, and when the blood gases came back, the doctor decided to wean him off the vent. He tolerated it remarkably well, and in no time, he was breathing on his own with only a face mask.
When he was finally up to talking, I told him, "You're doing great. Your friend will be happy to see you."
"Which friend?"
"Justin," I answered as I saw Justin and a young woman who I presumed was Heather making their way down the hall towards me.
As they reached the door, Joshua pulled the face mask from his nose and mouth and shouted, "I DON'T EVER WANT TO SEE HIM AGAIN AS LONG AS I LIVE!"
TO BE CONTINUED...
I promise that the sex is forthcoming, I figure most of you would rather read a story than just a sex scene, so it's a story I'm trying to tell. I sincerely hope you enjoyed it and will continue to do so with the forthcoming chapters. Comments are welcome: mnhunter@midsouth.rr.com