"ER"
"Feelings"
by Robin

Carol:

My shift was finally over and I was stacking up the desk work for the next shift. But I didn’t go get my coat to leave. Instead, I headed for the elevator to go up to the fourth floor and I passed Mark along the way.

"Oh, Mark, if you need anything tonight, I’ll be upstairs"

"You don’t have to do that, Carol" Mark grinned and shook his head. "There are plenty of nurses up there to take care of Doug. I just checked on him myself to tell him good night"

"How’s he doing?"

"He’s resting...he’s a little uncomfortable but he’s resting"

"Do you think he’s going to be all right?"

"Yeah, I think he will be. His speech has already come back and he has some motion in his left arm now. He’s showing good signs of improvement less than 12 hours after the stroke...I think in a few weeks he’ll be back on his feet"

"Well, I’ll be staying up there tonight anyway"

"You know you don’t have to"

"I’m not doing it because I have to, Mark. I know Doug better than anybody up there. I know what he’ll eat and what might stimulate his appetite. And I know he’s probably beating himself up pretty good in there right now. Maybe he could use a friend"

"That’s really nice of you, Carol, considering everything that’s happened between the two of you"

"Doug and I will always be friends" I told him honestly.

I went on down the hall and took the elevator up to the fourth floor. I passed the nurses station and stopped to check in with Claudia, the head nurse on the floor.

"Hi, Claudia...I’ll be up here in Doug Ross’ room tonight, OK?"

"Oh? Does he need round the clock care tonight?"

"No, he just needs a friend"

"Oh, well, all right, Carol...that’s fine. He didn’t eat anything when we took him dinner. I don’t know if he’s hungry of not. He hasn’t exactly talked much"

"Yeah, I know how he is. I’ll see what I can do with him"

"Good luck, Carol"

I went down the hall and carefully pushed open the door to Doug’s room. The room was dark with only a dim glowing light from the bathroom left on. I walked over to his bed just to look in on him. The bed railing was up on both sides and the covers were drawn up to his chest. He was clutching the top of the blanket in the curve of his left hand and he had the IV needle still taped to his wrist. His eyes were closed and he looked pretty peaceful. I looked over at the machine recording his vitals...his BP was 130/90 and even though that was still high, it was down and seemed to be falling. His pulse was good...his heartbeat was strong. I touched his band to push them off his forehead and he opened his eyes.

"Hi" I smiled down at him.

"What’re you doing here?" he asked me softly.

"I came to check on you" I told him truthfully, still toying with a strand of his hair.

"I’m OK"

"Yeah, it looks like you’re doing pretty well. They told me you didn’t eat anything, though...that’s not good"

"Wasn’t hungry" His speech was slurred and rather detached. He spoke in short and uncompleted sentences but he wasn’t hard to understand.

"You weren’t hungry or they didn’t bring you anything you wanted to eat?"

"Both"

"Tell you what...how about if I go over to Doc Magoos and get you some of that Italian Ice you like so well...would you like that?"

"Don’t want anything" he shook his head.

"You need to eat something"

"Sick to my stomach"

"Yeah, that kind of goes with your condition right now. That’s why I thought the Italian Ice might taste good, and it wouldn’t upset your stomach"

"OK" he nodded finally.

"Listen, Doug, you’re going to need some help for a little while and I don’t want you to be afraid or ashamed to ask for it, OK? You’re a patient now, not a doctor. You need to just rest, and relax, and let all of us take care of you, OK? And if there’s something you want, you just say so...somebody will get it for you, OK?"

"OK" he blinked his eyes at me but never shifted his attention away from me.

"I’ll be right back, OK"

I went over to Doc Magoos and got two of their Italian Ice treats...one in Black Raspberry for Doug and one in Cherry for me, and two plastic spoons to eat them with. These were like a snowcone except that they were served in a cup and were sort of slushy so that you ate them like ice cream. I went back to Doug’s room and turned on the light close to his bed. Be began to struggle to pull himself into a sitting position in the bed and I started to reach and help him.

"I can do it" he assured me.

So, I let him keep struggling. I put the Italian Ice on the tray and pushed it to his bed. He got himself sitting up as much as he could or wanted to and reached carefully for the spoon with his right hand. His left hand was still curved just a bit and he rested his fingers against the cup to steady it so he could eat out of it easily.

"Has anyone from rehab been here yet?" I was sitting a chair beside his bed eating my own ice treat.

"Jeanne" he nodded. "We start tomorrow"

"Well, Jeanne is very good...I’m sure you’ll do well with her. Did she tell you what you’ll start with?"

"See what we need to do"

"And take it from there" I nodded in understanding. "I think you’ll do fine"

He started eating the ice from the cup but his mouth was just a little uncoordinated from very slight impairment he had from the effects of the stroke. The entire left side of his body had been effected. His left arm was partially paralyzed but not permanently and not severely. He was already able to move it but his fingers would not work individually yet. The left side of his face sagged just a bit, his eye was droopy and one corner of his mouth was also drooping down just a bit. I had noted on his chart that when he went to the bathroom he could not lift his left foot but rather had to just scoot it along the floor to drag his leg with him. I grabbed a tissue from the box on his table and wiped his mouth quickly with it. He looked at me, those big brown eyes of his so sad, but then he grinned just a little at me.

"Thanks" he told me.

"No problem" I assured him with a smile.

The one thing that pointed to the fact that Doug would make a complete recovery was the fact that he didn’t want me to make a big fuss over him. He wanted to do things himself. And that was good...because that kind of determination would drive him to do whatever he had to do to get back to where he wanted to be. I would have spoon fed him the Italian Ice to get him to eat something but he didn’t even let me get that far. As soon as I was back he immediately pulled himself up and reached for it himself. It might be the first time his tough, strong willed attitude might actually help him.

"How long?" he slurped on his ice and almost laughed at himself. "Will I be here?" he wanted to know.

"I’d say you’ll be in here until the end of the week and maybe get to go home either by weekend or the first of next week" I told him truthfully and he nodded.

"OK" he nodded. "My fault" he muttered lightly.

"What’s your fault?"

"This is...I did this to me"

"It’s just something that happened..."

"No! Drinking too much...blood pressure up..." he was getting frustrated that his sentences were so broke. I could see it in his face. And I really didn’t want him to get so upset.

"Doug, why don’t you just try and get some rest right now? We’ll talk about it later..."

"Wanna talk NOW!"

"Doug, you’re just making yourself upset...you need to just lay back down and relax..."

"Be like this forever?" his voice was weak and hurt.

"No" I shook my head smiled at him. "You won’t be like this forever...you’re going to recover and be just fine! You just have to give it some time" I reached out and moved the table away from his bed. "Just lay down and try and get some rest, OK?"

"Don’t go" he pleaded with me as he eased himself down in the bed.

"I’m not going anywhere" I assured him and I covered him up.

"My fault" he muttered again.

"I don’t want you to think about that right now" I told him. "I want you to just think about getting better"

"Scared" he muttered again.

"What are you scared of?" I sat on the bed with him and held his hand, looking deep into his big brown eyes. I could see that he truly was afraid.

"Happen again"

"It’s not going to happen again" I shook my head.

"No?" He gave me a very quizitive look.

"No" I shook my head. "It wasn’t an aneurysm...it was an embolism...just a small blood clot and Mark gave you a clot buster downstairs in the ER so there’s really no chance of another episode"

"Blood clot?"

"Yeah, a little one"

"Not from drinking"

"Well, no, probably not. Something would have had to cause the blood clot" I reached out and touched his hair with a soft smile. "Did you hit your head recently?"

"Yeah" he nodded. "Fell"

"Where did you fall? Did you fall here?"

"Shower" he shook his head.

"You fell in the shower? At your apartment?"

"Yeah" he nodded. Then he rolled his head away, doubled up his fist and slammed it into the bed beside him. "Hate this!" he muttered. "Baby talk!"

"It’ll get better...you just need to give it time, OK? Patience, OK? Doug, it’s very important that you rest, OK? I want you to just go to sleep"

"Love you" he mumbled, and closed his eyes.

I sat there just looking at him...how peaceful he looked with his eyes closed. I watched the rise and fall of his chest until it fell into a steady pattern and I knew he was asleep.

"I love you, too" I told him when I was sure he wouldn’t hear me.

I sat in the chair beside his bed and leaned my head back. It really had been a long, LONG day.

"Carol?" I felt someone shaking my shoulders, so I opened my eyes to see Mark stooped down in front of me, shaking me awake. "Hey! Why don’t you go home?"

"No, I want to stay with Doug..." I raised up to look at him, still sleeping. "Is he OK?"

"He’s as well as he can be considering the circumstances. You can’t do anything for him...why don’t you go home where you can rest?"

"I can be here for him if he wakes up and needs something"

"Suit yourself. My shift is over and I’m going home, OK?"

"OK" he patted my leg and stood up to leave. Just as he got to the door, he turned back.

"Why are you doing this, Carol?"

"I’m in love with him, Mark" I sighed, looking over at him sleeping so peacefully. "I always have been"

"Have you ever told him that?"

"Yeah" I nodded. "But not when he wanted to hear it" I smiled weakly. "He’s so frustrated right now...his speech is really bothering him"

"That will come with time"

"I know...but patience is not one of Doug’s virtues"

"He’s going to have to make some adjustments in his life for a while, Carol. I hope he’s strong enough to do that"

"He is with help. And I can help him. He’ll let me, I know"

"Getting involved with him again?"

"Only to help him. Not for a relationship. I won’t go through that again"

"But you’re in love with him" Mark grinned at me.

"I love him, Mark...but I’m not crazy...not anymore"

"Well, good night, Carol" Mark nodded from the door and went out.

I got up and checked on Doug, pulling the covers around him and tucking it close to him. I stood and just looked at him, thinking of all the times behind us. We had always had a stormy relationship. And he had always been out of control. But I couldn’t help but wonder if things were different...if he were more settled...and less wild...what could be for us. If he could just grow up.

In the days that came to pass, I saw Doug everyday. Every break I got...every excuse I got to go to the fourth floor...I stayed late...I came early...but I was there for him every time he needed something. Finally, 5 days later, Mark was ready to release.

"He could go home" Mark muttered over Doug’s chart in the lounge. "If he didn’t live alone"

"What are you talking about?" I looked up from the soda machine. "Are you talking about Doug?"

"Yeah...he’s doing really well and he could go home except I don’t think he’s quite ready to be by himself just yet"

"How long before he can take care of himself?"

"About another week" Mark shrugged. "Maybe 10 days"

"Well, I’m gonna be off next week....maybe I could take him home with me"

"You wouldn’t want to do that!" Mark laughed at the thought.

"Why wouldn’t I? It’d sure be easier than taking care of him here!"

"That’s up to you, Carol. If you want to take him, I’ll release him"

"Let me talk to him about it"

"Sure...just let me know"

I went up to Doug’s room to find him sitting in a chair and gazing out the window. He was walking better as long as he was on a straight away run. Stairs still gave him problems. His speech has returned really well and he only occasionally had to think about his words before saying them. He no longer talked in ‘toddler sentences’. The only reminder of his stroke for him now was a slight limp. I went over and sat on his bed.

"Hey...Mark says he can let you go home"

"Yeah, he told me that, too...if I have someplace to go. He says I can’t stay alone just yet"

"Well, I was thinking you could come and stay with me...would you like that?"

"Carol, I would love that more than anything in the world...but this isn’t the way I want to do it"

"Well, I have a week off. And I’d be glad to give you a place to go so you can get out of here because I know you’re miserable here because you can’t work"

"Why do you want to do this?"

"Because you’re my friend....and I care about you" I smiled at him. "And you’d do the same for me...wouldn’t you?"

"You know I would" he reached his hand to me. "I’m going to get some help, Carol...I know now I really need it. And things are going to change" he smiled weakly at me. "You’ll see"

"I just want you to get better, Doug" I smiled at him. "Let’s just take one thing at a time"

He nodded and squeezed my hand. And then he let go with that chuckle the ripples out of his throat that I always so loved to hear. We sat together, gazing out the window, and waited for Mark to bring his discharge papers.

Doug was everything to me rolled into one. He had been my lover. He was my boss sometimes in the ER. He was my confidant when something was bothering me. But most of all, he was my best friend...and he finally knew that now.

September 25, 1998