Bryan and Lauren McFadden add more young men to their growing family. Nathan has cerebral palsy. His somber poetry suggests a man who craves acceptance. Steve manages a modified life, but love may be too great a challenge for the quad amputee. Craig suffers injuries from an auto accident, but the teen needs more than rehabilitation to heal painful damages.
Kevin Fitzgerald has the potential to be an outstanding physical therapist, but something is holding the intern back … or some one. Ian is anything but a success – he’s awkward, complicated, and seems quite an encumbrance to his roommate. There is something about the young man that Dr. McFadden just cannot ignore. Sometimes, the best things come with no price.
Four skylights broke up the monotony of the white ceiling. If only the soreness radiating through his body would let up. How could a person be paralyzed and still be in so much damn pain? As Craig’s head came up and pressure shifted to his pelvis, the stinging burn in his right side exploded into a fiery spasm. It felt as though the leg and hip were being ripped away, and on impulse he tried to scream. The doctor stopped the bed and adjusted the pillow under his right knee to take some of the pressure off the hip. The pain tore through his gut. He was dizzy now. Nauseated, he closed his eyes.
“Craig, hold on, I’ll give you a dose of pain meds.” Lauren pushed the button on the automatic dispenser at bedside. “Come on, honey, stay with me. Open your eyes, Craig. Focus on something besides the pain.”
Like what? Pain was everywhere inside him, frying his brain and sucking away every bit of resistance he had left. No drugs he’d taken ever messed him up this much.
“Craig, I want you to look at me.” Lauren gently patted his left cheek. “Come on, sweetheart. Focus on my eyes.” She nodded to Buddy. He quickly brought a damp washcloth from the bathroom.
Craig’s eyelids drooped. He tried to focus on the doctor’s face. She called his name again, and so did Buddy. He tried to say something … mouth anything, but all that came out was, “I hurt!”
“I know, pal,” Buddy said low. “We’re trying like crazy to make it hurt less.”
The doctor waited until the medication started to work and then raised head of the bed a little higher.
Craig’s brain scrambled, tried desperately to decipher where all his body parts were located. At forty degrees, he could see a few of them. He just couldn’t feel them … or could he? It was hard to tell. His brain said, wiggle your left foot, but when he strained to see the end of the bed, nothing was moving under the sheet. Dr. McFadden was staring right at his face.
“Take it easy, sweetheart. You’re a little disoriented.”
The hard collar kept his neck immobile and his visual field limited, but he could see where she’d brought up his right hand. She held it, rubbing the fingers and testing the range of mobility in his elbow and shoulder. He wanted to curse, everything hurt so badly. Why wouldn’t his brain work when he was trying so hard to regain control? Would he end up like Michael – or even worse? What if his brain never started to function again as it was supposed to? Craig, look at me. He heard the doctor’s voice, less demanding now. What if this was it – and there would be nothing more?
Before he knew what was happening, anxiety got the better of him. His heart pummeled hard, hurting his chest. Suddenly, he wasn’t getting enough air. Panicked, both eyes went huge with fear, but the doctor’s expression never changed. She put down his hand and planted hers at his sides where the mattress folded. He blinked repeatedly, unable to see clearly. Just slip away.
“Craig!” Lauren shouted brightly. The tone startled him but got his attention. He looked toward her face. “Your blood pressure is low and that’s why you feel dizzy. With your head elevated, your heart has to work harder. We need to get it in shape again, so try to tolerate the stress as long as you can.”
Craig felt the color drain from his face while his brain screamed for more oxygen. Muted by the vent, he couldn’t speak, but could only slip away into unconsciousness. He didn’t have the strength to mouth any words.
“CRAIG!”
The doctor shouted Craig’s name a second time, sounding a bit more demanding.
The two men at the foot of the bed looked at each other for a moment. Kevin asked Noah if his headache had gone away yet.
“Not entirely. It usually takes a while,” Noah answered. He watched while the doctor and Buddy tried to keep Craig conscious. The teenager was getting upset with them and lashed out with a few words of silent profanity. The doctor said he wouldn’t get a speaking valve as long as he kept that up.
“Craig, are you agitated because it still hurts so much or are you just mad at me for making you work?” Lauren asked. When she picked up his right arm to work on it again, he jerked it back.
All three men reacted subtly among themselves when Craig answered, “Both.”
“Well,” Buddy said, and he cleared his throat. “The man has more guts than I ever did.”
“I get the impression that as patients Craig and Michael will favor each other,” Kevin said quietly to Noah. “I wish I had seen Dr. McFadden working with Michael when he first came here. He’s another one I figure exhibited a … resistant attitude … shall we say?”
Noah looked up to the vitals monitor on the wall behind the bed. “Michael cursed us all out from day one,” he whispered. “But he couldn’t physically fight back.” Squinting his eyes, he tried to see the readings, but quickly looked away and rubbed his eyes. “Oh man, looking at those bright lines and numbers hurts.”
Lauren continued with her patient. “Craig, calm down. Your heart is fine and your blood pressure is beginning to stabilize. You’re here, you’re conscious, and I’d like to continue our work.” She picked up the arm again. This time he didn’t resist.
“It hurts! God, it hurts!” came Craig’s whispery-mouthed reply.
“Honey, I know it hurts, but I can’t give you anything more right now. It’s going to hurt worse if you don’t start working to get better. Bryan, the other therapists, and I, can only do so much. The rest you have to do.” She made him look at her. “I know it hurts like hell, I’ve been there. Believe me, we all sympathize with you.”
Soon they would try to wean the boy from the vent. After that, Bryan would begin a full schedule of therapy. The pain for Craig was only just beginning.
It was hard to be a tough kid when his world had fallen apart and there was no hope of things ever being the same again. No matter how sorry he was, and no matter how much his behavior might improve, the scary fact was his mother and father no longer wanted him. His parents had legally disowned him. He was alone. The tears he’d been holding back for the last month suddenly came hard and without any warning.
Buddy walked slowly to the sliding glass doors and stared out into the cold day, looking at nothing.
Noah sighed, drained from dealing with his own pain. The medicine was beginning to take the edge off the migraine. Luckily, the episode wasn’t that bad and breakfast had stayed down.
Kevin came around to the head of the bed and asked the doctor if there was anything he could do.
“You can get us another box of tissues from the storage closet in the bathroom,” Lauren answered. She pulled the last two from the old box and was ready for more when he returned.
Kevin broke the seal on the box. “How long will you wait before giving him a sedative to calm down?”
“He doesn’t need a sedative.”
“Oh.”
“For now we just bear with him, Kevin.” Kevin didn’t look a day over twenty-one in her opinion. Even Bryan said he could pass for an undergraduate student. And Kevin hadn’t had that much field experience in rehab. “In this case, a sedative would be like sweeping the problem under the rug. At some point, you have to deal with it. Not all treatments are written in the textbooks. By that, I mean a little extra individual attention can go a long way.”