Chapter Nine: Nick Takes a Break
7:15 AM
“Mr. Carter? Mr. Carter?” Oh no, not her again! “Mr. Carter, we need to get you ready for surgery now.” No we don’t. I’ve decided not to go.
“Mr. Carter? Let’s wake up now!” Damn it, you sound good and awake. I’m sleeping. Call me next month.
“Here we go!” UGH! That light was bright! And unless you are discussing “Lite Brite” this is not a good thing. I wonder whatever happened to mine?
“There we are. You need to change into this gown for me. OK? Then I’ll get you ready.” Exactly how does one “get ready” for surgery? Cut yourself to test your pain tolerance? I took another route.
“Brain! Kevin?” Where were those guys?
“They went to the coffee shop Mr. Carter. Here we go! Your friend told me green was your favorite color!” Oh goody. A green gown. That’s suppose to make me fell better? Hey, they are going to OPERATE on me, but no worries! I have a green gown!
“It’s olive green and I hate olive green. Funny, I love green olives. I know, I’m comparing apples to oranges, but then logic has never been my strong suit. I’ll bet your surprised.” I’ll bet she notices I’m babbling and calls the guys with the white gowns with long sleeves.
“Do you need help changing into your gown Mr. Carter?” Oh stop changing tenses. You’re making me nervous.
“No, I can do it.” I’m THIS many years old!
“I’ll be right back and get you situated.” Oh, that sounds worse than get you ready. What type of “situated” does one need to get into for surgery? Why didn’t I ever ask Brian questions? Because I didn’t want to upset him, that’s why. Why didn’t he volunteer information? Maybe he didn’t want to upset me. But Kevin said there was nothing to be upset about. It’s just day surgery. As opposed to night surgery I guess. I’m loosing it and I am not changing into that gown. As a matter of fact, I think I’ll skip the surgery. Brian offered to kill me, I think that would be safer and far less painful.
“Mr. Carter, are you ready?” NO. Think Nick. Damn, I wish I practiced that more.
“I’m changing!” That should throw her off.
“Is there a problem?” Yes, I’m not letting you evil goons get your hands on me, that’s what.
Silence. OK, she was gone. Perhaps she knew I meant business. Perhaps she had other patients to torture. Perhaps she had.... “Nick?” GONE TO GET KEVIN! Hail Mary, full of Grace. Blessed art thou above all women and PLEASE SAVE ME. I only had time for the short version.
“Nick, what’s the problem.” No problem Kevin. Hold still while I frisk you for deadly weapons. Is that a rubber chicken in your pants?
“Um...the gown is too small. I need a larger one and it’s olive green.” Oh yea, that makes sense.
“Nick I told them to give you a longer gown, that’s what the green ones are for. It’s OK, now let’s get you changed.” Let’s? The Pod People had Kevin! And apparently any courage I might have possessed. I let Kevin help me change, because I’m nobodies fool, and crawled on the stretcher. You know, it occurred to me that Kevin was seeing me naked way too often lately.
“Don’t worry Nick, this is just a day surgery. It’ll be fine. They don’t even have to open you up. They are going to scope through your esophagus.” Kevin, I hate to tell you this but I think you are only suppose to put digestible objects in your stomach. See, I can think when I really need to.
“I’ll tell the nurse you are ready.” Do it and I’ll never speak to you again. No, wait. Do it and I’ll speak to you every possible moment of our lives. That should stop him!
“Thank you Mr. Richardson.” Oh sure, suck up to Kevin. Nurse Plural (well, she never gave me her name) tucked one of those thin blankets around me and lifted a plastic package. “Here we are. Let’s put these on your feet and this on your head.” These turned out to be some type of silver leggins and cap, which the nurse explained would help me retain body heat during surgery. Maybe, but I looked like some alien in them. Hey, maybe that’s what’s wrong with my stomach! An Alien creature is trying to eat its way out from the inside.
“Now I’m just going to put this in your IV. You’ll feel really relaxed in a moment.” I doubt it. I don’t’ think there are enough drugs in the entire universe to make me relax. In fact, I am sure of ... oooooohhhhhhh. Wow. The sky is falling. No, that’s a ceiling. Aje man, you gotta try this! Hey nurse, write this down, I wanna ask for it by name.
The next few minutes were hazy, to say the least. Not that I minded. I had plenty to do. Did you know that ceilings that have those black dots on them, you know the tiles with the little black holes? Well, in the average hospital room there are over one million holes. Considering the condition I was in I was happy I could count that high. Heck, under any conditions I’m proud I can count that high.
“Kev?”
“He left a few minutes ago, Mr. Carter, while you were sleeping.” I was sleeping? Then who counted all those dots? “I’ll be right back for you, OK?” Sure, fine, whatever.
“OK Mr. Carter, we’re ready for you now.” A guys voice. Who was ready for me, and exactly what was I suppose to do? Damit, I would have studied if I had know there was going to be a test. OK, I’m ready, as long as you aren’t Frank.
Suddenly I was moving, and this startled me until I realized that the stretcher was moving. Darn, I thought I had learned to levitate. At this time I would like to give anyone who cares a word of advice. If you are stoned (On the legal stuff, I NEVER use the other type, so I can’t speak from experience.) and on a hospital stretcher going at a decent clip around corners, and have a stomach problem you might want to close your eyes. I didn’t. I know better now as “we” had to make an emergency stop outside post-op for...well by this point of you know what for. Let’s leave the disgusting details to Nurse Plural and her cronies.
Actually they were quite nice about it, especially that guy. Whoever he was he took being spewed upon much better than Howie. He patted my hand and told me it was OK, worse had happened to him. Worse than having someone decorate your clothes with their stomach contents? The only thing I could think of that was worse made me gag, which led to another colorful chapter in my relationship with the hospital staff.
The guy, who turned out to be Paul David (The plural gene must be required for working in a hospital.) left for “just a quick minute” to change into clean scrubs. Nurse Plural, who was fast enough to get out of the line of fire (I felt she had an unfair advantage, having seen my gastric tricks the day before.) decided I needed something for the nausea. “This will just take a minute, then we’ll get you in a pre-op room, all right?” I wish they would stop asking me if things were “all right” or “OK”. If I disagreed, what would they do? Get Kevin, that’s what I’ll bet. And I’ll bet they would enjoy every minute of whatever he did to me.
True to her word the nurse returned with the “happy” medicine from the night before. I want this pointed out as I believe the blame for what happened to be on her shoulders. She had seen what the medication did to me, after all what sober person waxes poetic about rubber chickens? Also, she left me alone. All alone, by myself, on drugs. Apparently she didn’t have a history of working with blondes.
“Mr. Carter, I’ll be right back. I just need to page housekeeping. Paul David should be back by then, and we’ll go up, OK?” OK, OK, OK.
OOOOOOKKKKKK. That drug did an interesting tango with whatever I was already on. With no pain and no nausea I became quite interested in my surroundings, which Nurse Plural did not take into consideration before parking me. Never, NEVER leave someone about to go INTO surgery with the patients that just came OUT of surgery. I should think this would just be common sense, which I seemed to posses more of than the personal in charge of me.
Oh, this is not good. The person behind that curtain is moaning. And that guy over there looks like he might be dead. I think he is dead. In fact I am sure of it. I can’t see him breathing under all those covers from way over here. I should be able to, right? I mean I can feel the molecules in my sheets at this point. I’m sure if the drugs gave me superhuman tactile senses then I should have superhuman sight. I’m outta here.
One would think that more hospital personal would be present where all the patients were, wouldn’t one? Or perhaps they were there, but the sight of a six-foot man in silver to-the-knee leggins and cap, his fanny “free floating” in the back (They should have matching silver briefs.) and his IV cradled in his arms is not an unusual sight. If not I sure as hell would like to see what is.
Around the corner and down the hall. No one here. I peeked around the next corner to see if the coast was clear. Exactly what I was hiding from was not clear to me, but I was aware that I had to remain free at all costs. I was all alone in this, except for Houston, my pug. He was being very good at this point, quiet as he could be in my arms. Good boy, Houston. He had finally learned to be quiet, now if I could just teach him not to bite. Luckily for any innocent bystanders I had him on a leash, though it was awfully long for a pug. Never mind, I could find his regular leash later.
Hey, a telephone! That’s what I needed. I could call Howie and he would come get me. I had memorized my phonecard number years before, which was a break, me having no pants and all. I punched in the number and waited. Where the hell was he? “This is Howie. Leave your name, number and a brief message after the tone....” Damn, I had called his home number. Oh well, never let a chance pass you up! “My name is Frack....my number is one million and thirty-six....my brief message is fruit-of-the-looms ride up. By the way, you should start buying your own!”
“....that way.” Oh no, I recognized the voice. Paul David. That meant Nurse Plural, and with my luck Kevin, could not be far behind. OK, around this corner and...hey, there was a stretcher just like mine! And the dead guy had a twin! Wait a minute, something strange was going on here.
“....Mr. Richardson...” KEVIN. No, no, no. I couldn’t face whatever it was I couldn’t remember that I didn’t want to face. It’s just better to keep going. Around the corner and down the hall and...another telephone! OK. I could call AJ. Maybe he would help me. How long could he hold a grudge over the firecrackers under the toilet seat incident?
“Nick? Nick where the hell are you?” A long time, it would seem. How did AJ manage to talk to me before I dialed the number? I didn’t even have the receiver off the hook. “Nick!” Wow, he sounded like he was behind me. Right behind me.
“Aje?” Suddenly I didn’t want to turn around. Sure, it wasn’t Kevin, but I had a feeling this was one of those tire-iron moments.
“Nick, man what are you doing? We’ve been looking all over for you, er...Nick? Um. Here, let’s tie my sweater ‘round your waist.” Aje, purple doesn’t go with olive green and silver! He ruined the entire look.
“There, we got you covered up. Come on, let’s get you back.”
“Is Kevin there?” I had a sinking feeling that he would be, and I had the impression that I needed to be anywhere he wasn’t.
“He’s worried about you Nick. Don’t freak, he’s not mad at you. It’s not your fault.” Oh, Aje, you are so innocent for a man with twelve tattoos.
“...LEFT HIM! YOU JUST LEFT HIM! WHAT TYPE OF...” Kevin was hot, which has nothing to do with his looks. I have never noticed his looks, except for his eyebrows.
“Here Aje, take Houston. I don’t want him getting hurt.”
“Take who? Nick man...hey! Don’t pull on that. You’ll...”
“NICK!” Too late, Kevin had spotted me.
“Here Aje, thanks for helping me clean my room man.” I made a break for it but this time the silver leggins conspired against me. I slipped and felt a sharp pain in my left hand. AJ grabbed for me, which I consider being above and beyond the call of duty. I am quite a bit larger than him. Kevin and Paul David reached me just before I hit the floor, so I was saved from an embarrassing splat. Well, I could be thankful for that. I would hate to be embarrassed now. I mean, things were going so well.
“He pulled his IV out.” IV? What IV? Hey AJ, don’t hold Houston like that. Here, let me have him.
“Kevin, let go. I need to..” Opps. AJ was soaked. “AJ man, I’m sorry. I guess I should have let Houston outside. BAD doggie.”
“What the...”
“Cool it Kev, Nick’s a bit confused.” AJ are you sticking up for me, or pointing out my short-comings?
“Let’s get Mr. Carter on the stretcher.” It felt good to lay down. I was a bit pooped. What say we all take a nap?
“We’ll need to restart the IV.” They were going to stick me again?
“I don’t want an IV. Hey, did you ever wonder if Roman nurses call IV’s four?” I figured that a joke was the best way to save my ass. Speaking of which, I noticed AJ was holding his sweater as if it had been contaminated by the radio-active stuff I had to eat the day before. AJ, AJ, please don’t turn into Kevin.
“Mr. Carter, you need the IV for surgery.” Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.
“I’ve decided not to have the surgery, so I don’t need it.” There, that explained everything.
“Nick! Don’t be stupid.”
“Kevin! Look what you did! You made Nick cry.” Oh. I am embarrassed to cry in front of people, but I guess I should look on the bright side. At least it was tears and not Houston pee. To be honest they were more from the idea of having another IV than Kevin’s words, but let him think he did it. He could use the ego boost.
“Shit, I’m sorry Nick.” Don’t say shit. It’s not nice. “Honey...” Honey? Honey? Did they give Kevin some of my drugs? “...you need the IV. You have to have the surgery Nick.” Kevin leaned in close. I winced. I’m not sure if I was remembering his threats, or bracing for possible onion breath. “Come on Nicky, let’s get this done. It’ll all be over soon.”
“OK.” Really it wasn’t, but I knew with the IV I would get more drugs. No way was Kevin dipping into my stash.
As it turned out Nurse Plural was as good as Kat, and the IV was started in no time. AJ and Kevin kept up a string of conversation, though I couldn’t for the life of me follow what they were saying. Since this was not the first time this occured, they just kept going.
“Mr. Carter, they are ready for you in surgery now.” Kevin, make sure my orbit doesn’t mention this stunning outfit. Remember, the BSB have a reputation to uphold.
“Here we go.” And we did, with no help from me.
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