Only Time Will Tell
Part 17
Captain Harry Lipschitz considered himself to be a brave man. He had seen many horrors during his life and had always conquered the fear and maintained control. He could count on one hand the number of times he had felt the urge to run cowardly in the opposite direction. But with a few simple words from a doctor, a feeling of total helplessness overwhelmed him.
"What's happened?" Harry asked Dr. Anderson as soon as the office door was closed behind them.
"Have a seat," the doctor motioned to a chair across from his desk as he sat in his high-back leather chair.
Harry reluctantly sat, the feeling of dread growing. The doctor opened the file he had been carrying in his hands and slipped on his glasses. "I'm concerned about Sgt. Ryan," the doctor said bluntly.
"Concerned?" Harry repeated, dumbfounded. "But we were told by Dr. Bradley that he would be okay."
The doctor seemed to ignore the protest. "Sgt. Ryan is not showing any signs of improvement."
"But Dr. Bradley said that he would need to be on the respirator until morning. Isn't it still early."
Anderson nodded, "Yes, it is early for Sgt. Ryan to be regaining consciousness, but we should be seeing some signs that he is improving."
Harry's face fell, "What are you saying?"
The doctor looked at the file and took a deep breath, "The information we were given by the paramedics stated that Sgt. Ryan stopped breathing at the scene and that artificial respiration was administered."
Harry nodded, "Yes. By his partner."
"My concern is that Sgt. Ryan may have been oxygen deprived for an extended period." The doctor stood and moved to Harry's side of the desk, leaning against the corner.
"Meaning?" Harry knew what the doctor was hinting at, but was not prepared to say the words himself.
"Meaning, he may have suffered brain damage."
Harry shook his head in denial. "No. I won't consider that."
"You may not have a choice. Dr. Bradley had no way of knowing that brain damage was a possibility. The symptoms of the overdose were masking the signs. However, I have examined Sgt. Ryan and found that he is completely unresponsive to outside stimuli. His heart rate, while steady, is too slow, and shows no sign of recovering. He is unable to maintain any steady respiration. Our most recent examination shows that he is not instigating any breathing pattern, the respirator is doing it for him. I'm concerned that if brain damage has occurred, his body may start to shut down."
Harry closed his eyes, praying the doctor would stop talking. He didn't want to hear any more. Dr. Anderson placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I don't want you to lose hope. I just want to be honest with you about what could happen."
"When will you know for certain?" Harry's voice was a mere whisper.
The doctor's face looked grim, "We may never know for sure. If he does not awaken soon, within 24-48 hours, I can only assume that damage has occurred. Even if he does awaken, brain damage is still a possibility."
Harry sat quietly for a moment and then nodded his head and stood, intending to make his way to the door. "Captain?" The doctor's voice halted him. "I noted on Sgt. Ryan's admittance form that he has a living will."
Harry's breath caught in his throat. The doctor continued, "I need to examine the original instrument. Just in case."
Harry nodded absently, his mind caught in an emotional whirlpool. He turned to the door and escaped from the room as quickly as possible. He made his way down the hallway, back towards ICU. He had to see Tom. He had to prove to the doctor that Tom was not as bad as the diagnosis. If he could prove the inaccuracy of the doctor's predictions, he wouldn't have to face Cassy with the news. And Lord knew, he didn't want to have to do that.
He rounded the corner leading to ICU and made his way to the door of Tom's room. The sound of women's voices startled him. "Harry, where have you been?" Frannie whispered. Harry was speechless. Cassy was standing by Tom's bed, holding his left hand in hers. Frannie stood on the opposite side. "I thought you were going to get Cassy's purse."
"I was. . .I intended to," Harry mumbled a reply.
Frannie narrowed her eyes in suspicion, "Harry, what's wrong?"
Harry shook his head, saying nothing. Frannie came around the bed and grabbed her husband's forearms, "Harry, what?"
Cassy looked up from her position next to Tom with worried eyes. She had worked with Harry long enough to be able to read him with almost the same accuracy as Frannie. Harry waved the women into the hallway. Cassy took in Tom's pale features one last time and then released his hand, gently placing it back on the mattress.
Harry led the women to the waiting room, which was deserted. He motioned the women to the couch and took his position in the chair next to them. He closed his eyes, trying to organize his thoughts, wanting to remain as unemotional as he possibly could, for fear that any emotion would cause his carefully placed shield to crumble.
"Harry, has something happened? Something with Tom?" Cassy pushed, her tension evident in her voice.
Harry nodded, "Dr. Anderson has expressed some concerns about Tom's recovery."
A look of confusion crossed both women's faces. Cassy spoke first, "But Dr. Bradley said. . ."
Harry cut her off, "I know what Dr. Bradley said. But Dr. Anderson is worried about some things that have happened since Dr. Bradley examined Tom."
Harry could see fury growing in Cassy's eyes. He could understand her rage. They had taken some comfort in the doctor's words that Tom would be fine, in time. To have those words taken away, without warning, was a betrayal. Before Cassy could respond, Frannie placed a comforting hand on hers. Cassy took a deep breath, attempting to calm her fears, "Harry, what's different about Tom? He doesn't look any worse."
"That's the problem, Cassy. Dr. Anderson says that there should be some signs that Tom is improving. But those signs aren't there." Harry took another deep breath, committing himself to completing the bad news, "Dr. Anderson's afraid that Tom may have suffered brain damage."
The two women were stunned. Cassy slowly began to shake her head back and forth in denial, "No, Harry. It's just the overdose. That's all. Dr. Bradley said so. When it's cleaned out of his system, he'll be okay, you'll see."
"You don't need to convince me, Cassy," Harry said, knowing that the shock of the news was causing the rejection of the news. "These are the doctor's words, not mine. I just wanted you to know what he said."
"Well, he's wrong!" Cassy exploded. The young woman grabbed her purse and rose from the couch, angrily making a beeline out of the room. Harry started to follow, but Frannie grabbed him, stopping his progress. "Let her be, Harry. She needs to face this on her own."
"But. . ." Harry protested.
"No 'buts', Harry. She needs to work through what you've told her. She needs to deal with her anger and she can't do that with her Captain watching," Frannie smiled lovingly at her husband. Harry closed his eyes, the weight of the world on his shoulders. Frannie pulled Harry down onto the couch next to her. He sat heavily, a sigh escaping his lips. Frannie wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight hug. Her heart broke when she felt her husband's sobs shake his body.
"Can I see him?" Cassy asked Nurse Roth with a shaky voice.
"For a few minutes," the woman responded with a gentle smile.
Cassy entered Tom's room. Her anger was still with her, but her fear for her partner's life was there too. She stood next to the bed, looking down upon his still form. "He's wrong, Thomas. I know he is." She reached out and placed a hand on his cheek, "You're going to be fine." The hand drifted down to his chest. "Dr. Anderson just doesn't know you like I do. He doesn't realize what kind of a fighter you are. But I know. You won't leave me." Cassy's anger had not dissipated with the words.
Movement at the doorway caught her eye. Nurse Roth walked into the room with a smile. "I need to change his IV's. Do you mind waiting outside for a second?" Cassy shook her head. "Oh, by the way, flowers were delivered to the room a few minutes ago. They're on the counter at the main desk. We can't have them in the ICU room. I thought you might want to take them with you tonight until he's moved to a private room." Cassy knew that Roth was trying to remain positive about Tom's recovery for her sake. She appreciated the effort.
Cassy exited the room and saw the large bouquet of red roses on the counter. Frowning, she instantly reasoned that the roses must have erroneously replaced the standard 'get well' flowers. She sniffed one of the buds, allowing the pleasant aroma to penetrate her senses. Reaching for the card, Cassy read the typewriting on the front of the envelope. Her heart skipped a beat, her already heightened anger rising to a new level. She frantically tore the enclosed card from the envelope and read it. Furiously, she threw the card onto the counter and stormed out of the ICU ward.
End Part 17
To Part 18