2007-04-17: Impatient Patient


Ethan_icon.gif Bekah_icon.gif Viola_icon.gif


Ethan gets a call that Viola has been shot and rushes to the hospital. Morphine is fun.

April 17th, 2007:

Impatient Patient

Mount Sinai

Ethan was in the midst of running some analysis on a hand that was in forensics. Yes a hand. In between the multitude of Addam's Family jokes, a call came in. Not the kind of call anyone wants to get about their loved one. Dropping what he was doing, and that includes studying said hand, Ethan booked it for Mt. Sinai. He knows his wife's one tough cookie, but it could be said that he worships the ground she walks on. So upon hearing that she's shot and laid up in the hospital, well that's got him quite worked up. He's so set on getting to the hospital and checking on Vi with his own two eyes, he doesn't even stop for some silly get well gift. (That can wait for later!) For now? He heads straight for the admissions desk to find out where his wife is, then storms off right for that direction!

Bekah has changed into scrubs, and from the fact that her hair is wet she may have showered as well. Really it's an improvement over the blood and brain splattered Red Sox shirt. She has a cup of coffee in her hands as she moves towards Viola's room to check in on how she's doing. Thank goodness for caffiene, because Bekah is covering a yawn as she goes.

Not having really moved from where she was wheeled, Viola lays on her bed, changed into a hospital gown and with a morphine drip. For one who is normally so active, she seems strangely blissful at simply lying and doing nothing. This could be the morphine having it's way with her. The only thing that really shows itself to be Viola is that her lips are set into a tight line and she's studying everything and everyone around her with an intense sort of concentration. That, also, might be because she's still seeing strange colors surrounding everyone.

Huffing some as he runs, given that Ethan isn't one of those active cop sorts. He's more of a lab rat really, so this is a workout for him. Nevermind that you really shouldn't run in a hospital. With the mood he's in, the elevator just feels like it's way too slow and once the doors open on the right floor, he's booking it. He moves quickly past Bekah, making a bee-line for Vi's door. There's a frantic, yet sobering expression on his face as he mutters the room number, checking for the right one. (Because bursting into the wrong room could be embarrassing.)

Bekah blinks as Ethan runs by. "Hey! No running unless there's a code!" She calls to him with a shake of her head. "Coulda spilled my coffee." She covers another yawn before she makes her way more cofidently to the same room Ethan is going to. "Where are you looking for?" She asks. Hey, at least she looks like she belongs here. There's even I.D. bearing the name Dr. Morgan clipped to her scrubs.

Ethan skids to a stop outside Vi's door. He's got one hand on the handle, ready to just barge in as Bekah grabs his attention. The I.D. gets a cursory glance, "This room here, Viola Holcombe. I'm her husband. I got called, she was shot." That's all he really feels he needs to get out before he's going in that door. Try stopping him! Just try! "Sugarbear?" he calls out as he opens up the door.

Bekah looks Ethan over for a moment before she nods. "Good thing you didn't bring flowers." She notes before she follows Ethan. Maybe she's keeping an eye on the runner, or maybe it's just were she was going anyway. "She did. She'll be fine though." Eventually.

"Holly." Viola turns her head slowly to look at Ethan. "You look blue." Blink. "This is really good morphine." She can't even feel the pain she know should be in her leg. For some reason he looks upset and she knows why somewhere in the back of her head, but it's not totally matching up.

Ethan looks over his shoulder at Bekah. Wha? Flowers? "Give me time," he says to the doctor looking type. "Hey baby, I'm here, how you feeling sugarbear?" The bearded man rushes to Vi's bedside and smoothes a hand back from her forehead through her hair as he gives her a tender kiss. A weak smile is made at Viola's commentary. "Glad to hear they got you on some good stuff sweetie."

Bekah follows Ethan in and heads to the foot of the bed to pick up the chart and take a look through it. Looking at the dosage of painkillers she gives Ethan a smile. "She should be feeling pretty good. I'm Dr. Morgan, by the way. I happened to be at the scene of the shooting, so I helped treat her." She puts down the chart to offer a hand. She's not putting down the coffee after all.

"I feel…" There are a lot of ways that Viola could finish this sentence. Drugged, somewhat in pain, uncomfortable. But when she drifts off, she forgets what she's about to say. Pausing, she blinks again and does her best to focus on Ethan. "Hey, you look blue." Ah, morphine. Then, her head shifts a little to look at Bekah. "She rode with me in the ambulance." Not that that's /really/ important information, but it did in fact happen.

"So you said baby," Ethan says before giving Vi a gentle kiss on the forehead. He's going to get some of this sickly sweet tenderness while Vi's so doped up she can't hit him for any of it. More or less standing at his wife's bedside like some fuzzy faced mother hen, he looks to Bekah and nods, "Thanks, Dr. Morgan.. since Vi's not really in a condition to explain this, maybe you can. What the hell happened tonight?"

Bekah nods her head over to Viola with a laugh. "I did ride with you in the ambulance." And the shower and coffee (and maybe a quick nap) have made her look less likely to pass out than she did then. She looks over to Ethan and shakes her head. "I have no idea. For some reason losing to the Red Sox made a bunch of Yankees fans think it would be a good idea to kill themselves by jumping off the side of the stadium. Somewhere in there shots were fired. I arrived to treat her after so I didn't see that part."

"It was the ESU," Viola says slowly. It's something that's been bothering her, so even in a morphine haze she can remember those details. "They turned on the fans. I incapacitated one, but then another shot me. Right in the leg. Bastard." Her speech is just slightly slurred. And while she was so tight-lipped about the situation before, she's talking more freely now. "I don't know what happened."

"What the.." Ethan just stares at Bekah. These kind of things usually happen when people drink the Kool-Aid at cult compounds and go to meet Jeebus in groups, or whoever it is they go to meet. Then again, he does tend to keep to himself down in the basement of the police station. "What was that sweetie?" He turns his attention from Bekah down to Viola, fussing over her slightly before finally just settling for holding one of her hands in his. "Shh.. it's okay. Dr. Morgan will tell me, just rest honey. I'll call your parents in a bit." Probably just what Vi wants to hear. Not.

"Yeah. It was totally strange. People were acting very abnormal." Bekah looks over to Viola in the bed. "She was shot in the leg. It was a very clean shot, through and through. Thankfully, it missed the bone." Bekah actually sets her coffee down to pick up the chart again. "We'll be recommending at least three weeks of physical therapy, but she should get back full use of her leg."

"Oh God. No." Viola doesn't need to be drugged to know that her parents will flip a lid when they find out that she was injured on duty. "They don't ever /ever/ have to know about this. Ever." It's the most translucent she's sounded since going on morphine. "I'll get better and it'll be like this never happened."

"Gee, dunno what would be weird about people jumping off a stadium en masse." There's just a touch of sarcasm in Ethan's voice. Just a smidge. He does however, exhale a sigh of relief as Bekah gives the prognosis, "I think we're gonna need more morphine to get her into PT. She won't go quietly. I can promise that already. How long does she need to stay here? Or.. I guess that and questions about home care, and such can wait." There, there Vi, he simply pats his wife's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He's more or less ignoring what his darling, lovely, ferocious and drugged snuggle bunny has to say right now. Grown-ups are talking. Sssshh. "Just tell me what needs to be done Dr. Morgan, I'll do what I can to see that it happens."

Bekah takes a look at Viola and then at the chart. "We'll keep her here overnight for observation, make sure that she's not having a bad reaction to the morphine or any other issues. She'll be free to go home in the morning. She's going to need some extra help for awhile though to allow that leg the chance to heal. No pushing herself. The nurse will give you exact care instructions when she's signed out tomorrow. She has stitches, but there is also muscle damage."

Under normal circumstances, Viola would be very annoyed that she's being ignored. And she starts to work herself up into an authoritative rant about how she will decide when she is ready to do what. In fact, she opens her mouth to do just that, but then Ethan holds her hand. And something glints off of the window and she becomes completely distracted. Once her attention is back where it's supposed to be, she's forgotten anything about what she was supposed to say. "My hair feels weird." If Ethan /or/ Bekah ever let out her strange ramblings while on morphine she will hunt them down.

Ethan winces behind his beard at Bekah's words. Muscle damage? Well, that's a side effect of being /shot/ he supposes. "Alright. Thanks Dr. Morgan. This is gonna be the fun part. Making her accept help. She's kinda headstrong, if no one's noticed." Because, really, what would ever give it away? He looks down at Viola, daring another kiss on top of her head. "I'll call the Chief, make all the arrangements for your time off. Don't worry about a thing." Not that he's expecting Viola to win the fight against the morphine and everyone else around her. "Hey, doc? Any chance we can just knock her unconcious while she heals? It'll make things /a lot/ easier… and.. yeah.. it's gonna feel weird sugarbear. Don't worry about it."

Bekah shakes her head over to Ethan with a laugh. "I don't think that would work. It's hard to do real physical therapy with unconscious people. Sorry. Maybe the thought of getting back to work will be motivation enough for her to do it. She will go home with some good painkillers as well for the first few days." Because everyone like the happy drugs.

"Time off?" Viola scoffs. "I can't take time off. There's too much to do." Even if she has to do it from her hospital bed. Or from home. Or from a wheelchair. "Just tell him to give me enough to get out of here and I'll be back in the office. I feel fine." But then, she feels /really/ fine because she's on the happy drugs.

Ethan cracks a grin at Bekah, now that he knows Vi's fine. Or will be. "Damn, well there went that idea. I guess I'll have to go with plan b and use her own handcuffs against her to keep her from hurting herself further." Viola's hand is given another squeeze. Gentle, but firm as he fixes a look on his wife. "You're taking time off. No ifs, ands or buts. You're not fine, you got shot in the damn leg. You're going to do just what the doctors tell you." Ruhroh. He's pulling the head of household tone instead of simply deferring.

Bekah shakes her head over to Viola. "If you do what we recommend, you should have no permanent damage. If you consistantly overextend yourself, it may not heal that well." She warns before she crack a tired smile back at Ethan. "Handcuffs should like they might be necessary."

Much like earlier in the evening, Viola doesn't quite have the energy for a knockdown drag out fight. "Hmph," she responds to both of their adamant (thought logical) answers to her own statement. It's probably best to just keep her on morphine until she's fully healed. That's the only way she's not going to overexert herself.

Ethan flashes a mischievious grin and wink Bekah's way. "If I gotta call her family in to help hold her down, we'll keep her off that leg." Again, he's giving his wife a 'there, there' pat on the shoulder while ignoring the 'hmph'. Which /could/ be a noise of disagreement. He's not entirely sure.

Bekah gives Ethan another smile. "I'll wish you a lot of luck. Let me know if you need a set of our soft restraints." She jokes grabbing her coffee again for another long drink. "You could always threaten her into staying off of it by threatening her with flowers."

"No. No flowers." Viola is quite firm on this subject. She's already made it known just how much she does not need those. "And I don't need any damn restraints. Gimme a night or two to sleep this off and I'll be fine." Oh yes, she's quite rational. Really.

Ethan laughs aloud and shakes his head. "I just might need to take you up on that offer.. as for the flowers. That threat will only work for so long before she builds an immunity. Isn't that right sweetie?" Okay, so maybe he's taking advantage of Viola's condition a little too much. Nevertheless, a firm expression is turned onto his wife, "You're not going to be fine in a day or two after 'sleeping it off'. C'mon hon, suck it up, and let me pamper you for awhile."

Bekah shakes her head with a laugh. "Gunshot wounds are not something you can just sleep off. This was about best case scenerio beyond being grazed, but that doesn't mean it's not a gunshot wound." Or at least it was best case scenerio after Bekah gave it a bit of healing power.

Viola glares at Ethan. She's not so drugged up that she can't tell when he's trying to tease her. And this is one of those times. "I can still hurt you from here," she warns him, eyes narrowing to bring the threat home. It would look much more threatening coming from a woman /not/ in a hospital bed. And if she wasn't still holding his hand. "I don't want pampering. Or best case scenarios. The last thing I need right now is to be confined to a bed."

"I know you can honeybun," Ethan says, daring to then give Vi another kiss. One he doesn't expect to be reciprocated, or to succeed even. "Too bad. You're going to be in a bed for awhile, /and/ you'll do what the doctors tell you. Don't make me conspire against you with the Chief about work." Which he's going to do anyway. This is not a time to expect any usual 'yes dear' commentary from him. He's gonna put his foot down. (or try really damn hard to do so.)

Bekah starts to laugh at this interplay but has to cut it off to cover a yawn. "Well, I'm going to go check on some other patients." Or maybe just take a nap. "Good luck keeping her still." Bekah says before looking to Viola. "You'll get back to work faster by cooperating."

"Hmph." That's Viola's answer to cooperating. "Thank you, doctor." And she does actually mean it, despite everything. She's surprised by Ethan's kiss, so she lets it happen. Especially since it feels pretty good accompanied by the wonder of morphine. "Captain'd be with me on this one. We'd both take ya down. Shot leg and all."

"Thanks again Dr. Morgan for all you've done, and for the good luck," Ethan says with a grateful smile for Bekah. Theeeen, he's turning back to humor the wife. Kinda. Sorta. Not really. "Uh huh. Sure. Let's see, you can hobble after criminals and investigate things on a bum leg.. Chief ain't letting you do such a thing so you can hurt yourself more.. and getting chained to a desk will drive you up the wall. So. I'm thinking, you just might have to do what the doctors tell you. Like it or not. Take your lumps on this one sweetheart." Sorry, he's still not swayed or cowing down. Taking a step back from the bed, he pulls out his phone, fie on hospital rules, and dials up the appropriate parties to notify in the NYPD.

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