A Day AT The Range part 2
Jim pulled the curtain back a few inches and peeked inside. There was a doctor on one side of the bed and a nurse on the other. Sandburg appeared to be conscious now, but he was lying there very quietly and looking very pale.
Jim turned back just in time to hear Bruce Wilkins account of the moment Blair had passed out.
"He had just looked at the score totals and said he couldn't believe he got a hundred and then he passed out. I tried to catch him but I wasn't close enough, but luckily he didn't hit anything when he fell."
"Wait a minute." Simon exclaimed. "Are you telling me that Sandburg shot a total score of one hundred?"
Bruce smiled. "Yeah, amazing, huh?"
Jim chuckled inwardly, wondering if anyone in the history of the Cascade Police Firing Range had ever before shot a perfect score. He had always come close but never done it himself. Leave it to Sandburg to accomplish the impossible. He wondered if that could be all there was to this passing out thing. The kid had a right to be in shock if he got a perfect score. And he probably hadn't eaten this morning, again. He allowed himself to relax a little. It was probably a combination of low blood sugar and the sudden relief of several days worth of stress worrying over this test.
Just as Jim was talking himself down from crisis mode, the doctor and nurse pulled the curtain back and came out.
Jim glanced at Blair. He was lying on his side, barely awake. He had an IV going and was hooked up to a heart monitor. Not standard procedure for a case of low blood sugar. The worry meter shot up again.
"Doctor, How is he?" Jim asked.
"Are you a relative?" The doctor asked.
Dual, conflicting answers came from different voices. At the same time Jim was saying, "No." Blair was saying, "Yes."
They all turned their attention to Blair, stepping closer to the bed. He looked at Jim and smiled a weak little smile, then turned to the doctor.
"He's the closest thing to a brother I'll ever have." Blair said, forcefully. "Just pretend he really is my brother, okay?"
The doctor nodded. "Okay. Mr. Sandburg's blood count is far too low which led us to believe he's bleeding internally somewhere. We've just verified that. I suspect a bleeding ulcer, but I can't be sure until we have further tests done. I have a call in to a gastroenterologist. We're going to get an endoscopy done. That should tell us something."
"Why so sudden?" Jim asked. "If it's an ulcer, shouldn't he have been having pain for awhile before it got bad enough to bleed?"
"Sometimes they sneak up on people. Some people have symptoms but they aren't severe enough to cause them concern. We really don't know anything for sure yet, so let's just wait and see what the test shows."
"Okay. Thanks." Jim said.
The doctor started away. "I'll let you know when the specialist arrives. Then you'll all need to step out to the waiting room for about a half hour while the test is done. In any case, I can pretty much guarantee we'll be admitting him, so you can stop in at the admissions office and take care of some paperwork while he's occupied with the test, if you'd like."
Jim nodded and turned back to look at Blair. He blended in well with the white sheets, he was so pale.
"Blair, I'm going to go now that you've got your "blessed protector" with you." Bruce said, smiling at Blair.
"Thanks, man." Blair said. "Sorry I interrupted your shooting."
"Hey, no problem. What's another day of anxious anticipation?" Bruce smiled and waved as he turned away and walked out.
Jim and Simon each took a side of the bed to get closer to Blair. He looked at each of them and sighed. Then a little smile lit his face.
"Hey, did you guys hear what I scored at the range today?" He asked. "Lindeman says it's a new record."
Jim smiled. "Yeah, I should know. I'm the guy who used to hold the record."
Blair laughed, then lapsed into quiet, pulling the sheet up around his shoulders.
"Cold?" Jim asked.
Blair nodded.
"Let me see if I can get some blankets for you." Jim said, walking away toward the nurses station.
"So, how are you doing, Sandburg?" Simon asked.
Blair glanced in the direction Jim had gone, then looked back at Simon and smiled shyly. "Simon, keep an eye on Jim for me, okay? You know, in case anything happens."
"Nothing's going to happen, Blair. You're going to be fine." Simon insisted.
"I know, I know, but just in case, it would make me feel better if I know you're taking care of Jim." Blair broke out in a wide grin suddenly. "You know, he is kind of high maintenance sometimes."
Simon smiled. "Sure kid, don't worry. I've got it covered."
Simon took a really close look at him. He thought maybe his color had gotten a little better since they had first come in. Maybe the IV was helping some.
Jim walked over with a blanket and carefully spread it over Blair, helping it pull it up to his neck and tuck it around him on the sides.
"I think I'll go call in and let everybody know what's going on." Simon said, stepping away. He turned back and looked at Sandburg. "Don't worry, kid." He said. "You'll be okay."
Blair smiled and nodded.
Jim stood quietly for a few minutes. Then he reached down and pushed Blair's hair back for him.
Blair smiled sleepily at him. "I'd like to just go to sleep."
"I don't think so." Jim said. "Just not yet, okay? They'll be coming to do that test on you soon. After that, they'll probably put you in a room, and then you can go to sleep. Can you wait that long?"
Blair nodded, looking at his friend's worried expression. He pulled his hand out from under the blanket and reached for Jim's hand.
"Blair." Jim began. "Have you been having stomach pain for awhile?"
Blair looked away. "Well, not really. I mean, just a little, and some nausea, but nothing that would make me think it was an ulcer or anything."
"Have you been feeling stressed?" Jim asked, hoping he wasn't responsible for causing Blair to get an ulcer. He knew the last few months had been extremely stressful, but he had felt like Blair was really enjoying the new twist in his life. At least, he hoped it hadn't all been an act, to make him feel better about how things had turned out. He had realized finally that Blair had always put him first and it bothered him. He didn't want Blair to sacrifice his happiness for him.
"Jim! Jim!" Blair called out to him.
Jim came back to awareness, looking back to Blair.
"Don't DO that!" Blair said. "I thought you had zoned, and man I've got to tell you, right now I don't have the energy to deal with that."
"Sorry, buddy. I was just thinking." Jim said, guiltily. "You didn't answer my question."
"Jim, I don't feel stressed. I did when all the publicity was going on. I mean, being hounded by reporters is pretty stressful. But since they've laid off and I've been doing the Academy thing, I've been pretty happy. I am where I want to be. I've enjoyed the Academy and I really want to work as your official partner. I'm going to be a good detective, one you can be proud of, maybe even one my mom can be proud of. You've got to believe me here, Jim. This isn't your fault or anybody else's. You know stomach ulcers can be caused by a virus."
Jim nodded. "Okay. I just wanted to make sure. I know I haven't always been the most reliable "Blessed Protector" at times in the past. But that's over with. Like you said to the doctor, I am the closest thing to a brother you have and as far as I'm concerned, you are my brother, my little brother, so that means I'm in charge of looking out for you." He smiled as Blair's hand tightened on his own.
The doctor stepped over with another doctor. "This is Dr. Whiteside. He'll do the endoscopy."
"Hi." Dr. Whiteside said, stepping closer to the bed. He looked over at Jim. "If you'll just wait in the waiting room, we'll just be about a half hour. I can tell you something as soon as the test is done."
Jim nodded, then looking at Blair, said, "I'll be back soon."
Blair nodded.
Jim glanced back as he walked out. The doctor had pulled the curtain around Blair's bed.
Simon and Jim waited just outside the emergency room doors. Jim paced nervously. It had been 45 minutes already. They had said a half hour. Why was it taking so long.
"I can't believe this, Simon." Jim groaned. "As soon as everything seems like it's going fine, this has to happen. Why does everything always seem to happen with Blair? It's as if there's some cosmic writer sitting there thinking up bad things to throw at him. I wonder if he's ever gone a whole year without a trip to the hospital. Or worse, maybe it's only since he's been hanging around with me."
"Jim, you know this isn't because of you. This has nothing to do with you." Simon argued. "I think you're not happy if you can't find a reason to feel guilty."
"So, I feel guilty and I'm still not happy." Jim said. "I'll feel a lot better when the doctor gets done with this test. I can't stand the waiting."
Just then, an ER nurse pushed the door open, almost banging into Jim as he paced by. "Mr. Ellison?"
"yes ?"
"You can go back now." She said.
Dr. Whiteside was waiting by the foot of the bed. Blair was lying quietly, looking half asleep.
"He'll be out of it for awhile." The doctor said, handing Jim a picture. "This is the inside of Blair's stomach." He said. He pointed to a dark bubbly looking spot near the top. "This is a fairly decent sized bleeding ulcer. I injected it with a drug to try to curtail the bleeding. It appears to be working, but we won't know for sure for a few more hours. We're going to move him to a room in the Critical Care unit."
Seeing the fear in both men's faces, the doctor jumped in. "Don't let that scare you. That's where he can get the attention he needs. I think he's going to be fine. Probably be home in a couple of days. We just have to make sure the bleeding stops and get him started on some medication to keep it from starting again and keep the acid out of his stomach so it can heal."
"So, what caused this?" Jim asked. "Was it stress?"
The doctor smiled. "We can't really pinpoint a cause. Sometimes it's caused by a virus, sometimes over use of aspirin or other medications. There's even some indication that drinking too much coffee or tea can start an ulcer. As for stress, undue stress can always contribute to poor health, but we have no indication that it's the case here."
"They'll be moving him to his room soon. I'll check in on him tomorrow to talk to him about the test. You hold onto that picture for him, okay?"
Jim nodded. "Thanks, doc."
A nurse stepped by Jim and Simon and efficiently took a blood sample from Blair, then left them alone. Blair barely stirred. His eyes were partway open but he was more or less asleep. Jim pulled the blanket up over him, carefully tucking him in on both sides.
He had only taken a little break to get a cup of coffee. He had been walking back to Blair's room, when he heard his partners anguished voice and heard his heartbeat speed up in fear. Jim quickened his pace and burst into the room. A doctor and a nurse were standing to one side of the room. Blair was curled up against the headboard of the bed, his head hanging forward, chin against his chest. He had the blanket pulled up around him, shivering under it.
He looked up weakly when Jim came into the room. "Chief?"
Blair seemed to be having trouble holding his head up. He leaned back against the back of the bed and looked pleadingly at Jim.
"Don't let 'em do it, Jim." He cried.
Jim walked over closer to the bed, before looking over at the doctor.
"We just told him we need to give him blood." The doctor explained. "His last blood count showed up way too low. And we don't know yet if he's stopped bleeding yet or not."
Jim looked down at Blair, shivering on the bed. He was looking very pale and weak. Why wouldn't he want a blood transfusion? It might be necessary. Couldn't he see that? He wasn't going to stand here and let him die from blood loss.
"Would you let me have a few minutes to talk with him?" Jim asked.
The doctor nodded and him and the nurse walked out, closing the door behind them.
Jim sat on the edge of the bed and pulled Blair over into his arms. Blair cuddled in against his chest, curling his hand around the pocket of Jim's shirt.
"Hey, buddy. Talk to me here. What's the problem with getting some blood?" Jim asked. "If you could see yourself, you'd know you need it."
"It's just something that happened before I met you." Blair pulled away, trying to see Jim's face, but he couldn't hold his head up. Jim eased him down onto the bed, keeping his arm around him and waited.
"I had this friend. We were really close. Closer than I had ever been to anybody, until you came along."
He smiled at Jim. "Then he was in a motorcycle accident and they gave him blood. He needed it, I guess, cause he had lost a lot in the accident. Almost lost his leg. But anyway, he died a year later from Aids. He was really sick for half of that time.
I stayed with him and helped take care of him. I don't want to die that way, Jim. I don't want to go through that and I don't want to put you through that. I can't."
"No, Chief, listen to me." Jim argued. "You have to let them give you blood. I can't sit here and watch you bleed to death. They have safer blood collection methods now than they did then. You can't worry about something that has a small possibility of happening, when faced with something that IS happening right now.
God, Blair, I'm sitting here watching you fade away. I can't do this." Tears started forcing their way out of his eyes and his sniffle drew Blair's attention.
Blair looked up at his Sentinel. The tears were flowing freely down his face and Jim hadn't even moved to wipe them away. He just sat there looking down at Blair with a look of fear on his face.
Suddenly, Blair realized there was no way he could do this to Jim. He'd have to take his chances with the blood. He trusted Jim and if Jim was so sure it was necessary then he guessed maybe it was.
"Okay." He said, quietly.
"What?" Jim asked.
Blair smiled. " I said, okay. They can give me blood. I'll take my chances. I have the feeling even if I refuse, you'll just wait for me to pass out and give it to me anyway."
Jim nodded and pulled Blair in for a hug. "You were reading my mind, weren't you?"
Simon walked into Blair's room carrying two cups of coffee, knowing Jim would be there and probably need a cup by now. It was early morning, not quite 7a.m. He was on his way to the station and figured he'd stop off and see how Blair was doing this morning. He knew if he had gotten worse, Jim would have called him during the night, so he figured he must be either the same or better.
He opened the door and stepped quietly into the room, setting the coffee down on the table. Both of them were asleep, Blair curled on his side on the bed, and Jim sitting on a chair by his side, slumped over onto the bed, his head next to Blair's.
He wondered how long Jim had been sleeping like that. He was going to be stiff when he woke up. He took a careful look at Sandburg and decided he looked better. Certainly his color was better. He had looked like a ghost the day before.
