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Post by barbt on Jan 5, 2014 21:50:21 GMT -5
Dave Bakey got out of the shower in the Sarasota hotel room. The hot water had eased the hangover a little, but he knew he was in for a rough day. At least he wouldn't be alone. The CT Halloween party had been last night, and everyone was going to be a little rough today. He would never understand how Keith, who he was sharing a room with, could wake up with a killer hangover and still sit happily in bed playing his guitar. He'd even had Dave take a picture of him to put out on Twitter. Suddenly he heard a loud crash, like breaking glass, and a yell out in the hotel room. "Keith?" he called. "You OK?" It sounded like something big had broken. When he got no answer, he got worried. "Crap," he thought, "I hope he didn't pass out and fall on a lamp or something." He tugged his shorts on quickly and stepped out of the bathroom. "Keith?" He was relieved to see Keith on his feet, standing by the window. A quick glance showed nothing out of place. "Keith, what was that crash?" Keith didn't respond. He was standing there, holding his right arm in his left hand, staring at his hand. "Keith?" Dave walked over towards the window, stopping suddenly when his foot hit something cold and hard. Looking down, he realized that the floor was covered with broken glass. Looking up at Keith again, he suddenly noticed sprays of red on the walls and curtains. Looking closer, he felt his stomach twist into an icy knot. "Oh my god," he breathed. There was blood literally spraying out of Keith's right wrist. "Keith," he yelled, grabbing his friend's shoulder. Keith turned a terrified, wide-eyed face at him. "The window broke, " he said dully, like he was a million miles away. "My hand went through it..." he trailed off, staring at his hand again. Cursing, Dave sprang back to the bathroom long enough to grab a towel. Running to Keith, he put several folds of the towel over the cut on Keith's wrist and squeezed it as tight as he could. Every musician's worst nightmare was running through his head. If Keith had cut nerves or tendons he might never play again. But right now he had to stop the bleeding. There had to be at least one cut artery with the way Keith's wrist was bleeding. Dave realized he was going to need help, and fast. He couldn't keep the pressure on and call for an ambulance, and there was a good chance Keith was going to pass out, either from blood loss or shock, soon. "Come ON, Keith," he cried, dragging Keith towards the connecting door to the next room, where he knew Colm and Emmet were. He knew Colm had had first aid training from when he worked as a camp counselor and from his mission trips. Thank God he and Keith had left their side of the connecting door open last night. Dave wasn't sure he'd be able to open it now. He kicked at the door as hard as he could. "Colm! Emmet! Wake up, I need help in here! Keith's hurt!" He kept kicking and yelling until the door opened. Colm looked in and his eyes widened as he took in the scene before him. Keith, white as a sheet and covered in blood, Dave clamping a towel to Keith's wrist and looking terrified. He turned his head back over his shoulder and barked, "EMMET! NOW!" They heard a thud as Emmet sprang out of bed in response to Colm's tone of voice. He appeared at the doorway and went white himself. "Help me get him on the bed," Colm said quickly. "We need to get his hand elevated and that way he won't fall if he passes out. What happened, Dave?" "I don't know exactly. I heard a crash and a yell while I was in the bathroom. When I came out, there was glass all over the floor and he said his hand went through the window. Blood was just spraying out of his wrist." "Crap. All right, one, two, three!" They got Keith onto the bed, lying down, Colm holding Keith's right arm straight up. "OK, Dave, I'll take over the pressure. Put some pillows under his legs. Em, go get Sharon, now, and the other guys. Dave, once his legs are up, call for an ambulance and then call the front desk to let them know it's coming in." Dave followed orders, glad he wasn't in charge anymore. He wouldn't have thought of half the stuff Colm had already told him to do. Emmet took off down the hall at a dead run. They could hear him banging on a door, yelling "Sharon! EMERGENCY! We need you, NOW!" Dave had dialed 911. "Yes, we need an ambulance at the Comfort Inn, Room 218. My friend's hand went through the window and his wrist is cut really badly. I think he got an artery, there's blood everywhere. Keith Harkin. He's 26. No, healthy. Yes, we have someone trained in first aid on the scene. Keith is lying down, his hand's elevated, pressure is being applied, his feet are elevated. Colm, is he conscious?" Aye," Colm said, "but he's in shock. He's not really responsive." Dave relayed this to the operator. "They're on the way," he said. Sharon came flying into the room. "Oh my god," she said, putting her hand over her mouth and looking at the blood-stained room and people. "How bad is it, Colm?" "I don't know, Dave already had the towel on it when I got here, and I'm not about to take it off to see," he said. "I know it's his wrist and he has to have cut at least one artery with the way it's bleeding. Dave just finished calling for the ambulance, I told him to call the front desk next." "I'll do that," Sharon said. "Colm, that towel's soaking through." Colm swore. "Get me another one, Dave, quick." Dave grabbed another one from the bathroom, Colm put that over the first one, and used both hands to squeeze Keith's wrist as hard as he could. "OWWW!" Keith yelled, trying to yank his hand away from Colm. "That hurts, you eejit!" "I know it hurts, Keith! I have to, or you'll bleed to death. Now stay still, will you?" Colm yelled back. George suddenly appeared at the end of the bed, sitting next to Keith's head. "Calm down, lad," he said soothingly. "We've got you. Here, squeeze as hard as you need to." He put his hand into Keith's left hand. Keith fixed his eyes on George's face. "I'm scared, George," he whispered. "I know, lad, we all are," George replied. "But we'll get you through it together." In the background, they could hear Sharon on the phone. "Yes, room 218. The window broke and one of my performers has a badly cut wrist. The ambulance has already been called. Do you have a back way the crew can take him out? I don't want any fans seeing us going through the lobby. Good. Yes, the manager needs to come up here, and you'll need a major cleaning job after we've got him out." She hung up the phone, and then they heard her call out urgently, "No, Ryan! Neil, get him out of here, he doesn't need to see this." Colm turned and saw Ryan standing shocked and breathless in the doorway, staring. "Neil, can you two keep people out of this hallway and keep the path from the elevator clear?" Colm called. "Em?" "Aye, Colm?" "Get those two situated and then I want you in the lobby to bring the ambulance crew up the elevator." "Got it!" Emmet ducked out of the room again, helping Neil turn Ryan and guide him out. Once out in the hall, he pulled Ryan into a quick hug. "Are you all right?" he asked Ryan. "We don't need you going away on us as well." Ryan was breathing deeply, clinging to Neil's hand. "Yeah," he choked out. "I'll be OK. Overload." "We know, " Neil said. "Go on down to the lobby, Em, I've got Ryan." Emmet nodded and sprinted for the steps. Neil forced Ryan to look straight into his eyes. "OK. Ryan, he's going to be all right. We've got a job to do up here, we've got a crowd gathering and they're going to block the way from the elevator. Can you help me keep it under control?" Ryan closed his eyes for a second and nodded, swallowing hard. "Good man," Neil said, "but I knew that anyway." The two started, together at first, explaining to onlookers that there was a medical emergency and asking them to please clear the area. After a few minutes, Ryan was able to stay at the elevator end while Neil worked the other end of the hallway. As other band and crew members woke up with the commotion, they sent them to huddle by the door of Sharon's room, telling them only that Keith was hurt and they'd explain later when the crowd was gone.
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Post by celticbear on Jan 5, 2014 23:29:48 GMT -5
I remember this! But the accident did not happen in his room but at the bar where the party was. Somehow Keith broke either his beer glass or the bottle and Keith cut his wrist. The accident happened during the 2012 Fall Tour.
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Post by barbt on Jan 6, 2014 6:50:55 GMT -5
I remember this! But the accident did not happen in his room but at the bar where the party was. Somehow Keith broke either his beer glass or the bottle and Keith cut his wrist. The accident happened during the 2012 Fall Tour. It couldn't have. The picture I described Dave putting out on Twitter had to have been taken BEFORE Keith cut his wrist, and it came out Halloween morning and was titled "Halloween hangover". And it had to have been taken after the party because you could see the Sharpie tattoos on his arm. Also, Sharon said it was Halloween morning and that she had had to go to the hospital with him with a hangover. This is the quote from Sharon's blog dated November 9th - the date the servers came back up after Hurricane Sandy: "On news from the road, a lot of you will already know Keith had an accident with glass and managed to nick an artery in his wrist on Halloween and we ended up in the emergency room in Sarasota getting the bleeding stopped and him stitched up. Not a fun day and made worse by the hangovers from our Halloween party the night before -"
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Post by sportygirl200 on Jan 6, 2014 18:10:11 GMT -5
This is great could he have passed out on trip to hospital where they but him on oxygen
Sent from my GT-P5110 using proboards
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Post by barbt on Jan 8, 2014 21:40:50 GMT -5
Emmet nearly flew down the stairs. He burst out on the first floor and ran into the lobby. People were staring at him, but he wasn't surprised, he'd probably stare at somebody running full-tilt through the lobby, too. He stopped at the main door, listening. He could faintly hear a siren in the distance. Good, they were coming. He closed his eyes, trying not to think about what might have happened to Keith's wrist. "Excuse me, sir." A voice came from his right. Emmet opened his eyes. "Yes?" "I'm sorry, but you can't be in the lobby like that." It was one of the desk clerks. "What?" Emmet didn't have time for this. The siren was getting louder. "Sir, you can't be in the lobby in your underwear." Emmet suddenly realized he had nothing on but his boxer shorts. Not that he cared right now. "As soon as that ambulance gets here, I'll be back upstairs," he said. "I wasn't about to stop to get dressed with my friend about to bleed to death." "Oh," The clerk looked startled. "I'm sorry, sir, but..." The ambulance pulled up outside and the crew jumped out, grabbing the gurney from the back. The manager passed Emmet and spoke hurriedly to the driver about moving the rig to the back entrance. The driver nodded. "Can you get things started while I move the rig around back?" he called to his partner. "Sure thing," the other paramedic said. As he started to maneuver the gurney through the door, he was startled to be joined by a man in his underwear who helped him steer the gurney. "I'll take you to the room," the half-dressed man said in a thick accent. "This way." He helped pull the gurney into the elevator. "God, I'm glad you're here," he said. "I've never been so scared in my life." "What happened?" said the paramedic as they rode up. "My friend put his hand through the window. His roommate woke us up to help," said the half-dressed man. The paramedic privately thought he wouldn't have bothered to put any clothes on in that case either. The elevator door opened, and another man turned away from shooing some onlookers away and said, "Oh, thank God. This way, quickly!" He led them down the hall to another room where the door was open and ran in, then stopped, frozen. A woman in the room moved him out of the way. "Come on, Ryan, go back out with Neil." The paramedic's first impression was chaos. The room looked like a tornado had hit it, there was blood everywhere, and there were several other men in shorts or boxers or pajama bottoms. Everyone was clearly in whatever they'd been sleeping in. He wondered if there'd been a fight. Then he decided it didn't matter, since things were obviously calm now. He moved over to the bed, where a blond man was lying, very pale and splattered with blood, and his hair every which way on his head. Another man was holding the blond man's right hand up in the air, applying pressure to towels on his wrist. A third man was seated by the blonde's head, holding his left hand, talking to him quietly, and stroking his hair. The paramedic spoke to the man holding the blonde's hand up. "I'm Jim, I'm a paramedic. Are you OK to keep applying pressure while I do a quick check on him?" "My hand's cramping," the other man said. "Dave, can you get this again?" "Sure, Colm." The man called Dave came over and changed positions with Colm. As the pressure was briefly off the towels, they reddened quickly. Colm swore. "I was hoping it had slowed down a bit. Get that really tight, Dave." "Got it," Dave said. Colm moved off, rubbing his hand to ease the cramp. Jim turned his attention to his patient. It was clear he had some able assistants until his partner could get here. "What's your name, sir?" he said. The blonde looked at him out of terrified eyes. "Keith Harkin." "All right, Keith, I'm going to check your vital signs and see how you're doing." "Crappy," Keith muttered. Jim couldn't help grinning. He was glad his patient, while scared, wasn't so scared he'd lost his sense of humor. As he checked Keith over, the bald man sitting by Keith's head kept up a rhythmic stream of quiet speech. Jim realized the man was praying the rosary, and he could see Keith's lips forming the words as well. The other man had released Keith's left hand so that Jim could take Keith's blood pressure, but kept his other hand on Keith's head. "Well, Keith, " Jim said, "all things considered, you're not in bad shape. Your pulse and breathing are better than I would have expected given what's going on here, but your blood pressure is pretty low. I'm going to need to start an IV to get some fluids into you to replace the lost blood." Keith grimaced. The man sitting by his head laughed softly. "I know you don't like needles, lad," he said, in yet another thick accent, "but if nothin' else it should ease your hangover a bit!" Keith made a face at him. "Drinking last night?" said Jim. "Aye, we had our Halloween party last night," said the man by Keith's head. "We're all a bit rough this mornin', and this lad isn't helpin' matters any!" He smiled fondly at Keith and tousled his hair. "Get off, George!" Keith growled, but he was smiling as well. "Keith, do you have any medication allergies or any medical problems I need to know about?" Jim asked. "Nah. I'm pretty healthy usually." "Just accident-prone," Dave tossed in. It was good to see Keith relaxing now that he knew help was here. Keith stuck his tongue out at Dave, making Jim laugh as he got his IV supplies ready. It was clear having his friends (or were they family? Jim didn't think so, given all the different accents) there was keeping Keith calm, and that was making Jim's job much easier. Since George had said Keith didn't like needles, Jim was going to use that to keep his attention occupied as he tried to get the IV in, knowing it might be difficult with as low as Keith's blood pressure already was. As Jim scrubbed the inside of Keith's left elbow with an alcohol swab, he said to Keith, "So is George your father, then?" "Not by blood," Keith said. "But he might as well be everybody's father on tour, that's how he treats us." "On tour?" Jim said, still looking for a vein. "George, do you mind if he squeezes your hand again? It'll help pull a vein up for me to get." "No problem," George said. "He'll not hurt me." "Aye," Keith said, "we're a musical group on tour. Which I think I've just thrown a wrench into, haven't I, Sharon?" He winced as Jim inserted the needle, then tilted his head back to look at the only woman in the room. "As usual," Sharon said. "Don't worry about it, somebody else can do your guitar parts. One thing we're not short of is guitar players. As long as you can still sing, we're fine. Good thing we've got a few days before the next show." "Yeah," put in Colm from the other side of the room. "I don't need to learn anybody else's vocal parts, two are enough!" Keith suddenly looked worried. "Is Ryan OK? I heard you send him out earlier." "Neil's taken him out again," Sharon said. "Too much tension in here for him to cope with right now." Jim didn't like the sound of that. "You're not going to give me another patient, are you?" he asked. "Until Bruce gets up here, I'm kind of tied up." Sharon hurried to reassure him. "No, we can cope with Ryan. He's still recovering from an injury himself and he gets overwhelmed easily right now. We're used to it, the rest of the band and crew are with him, and they'll take care of him." "Just let him see me before they take me to the hospital, Sharon," Keith requested. "No need to let him worry more than necessary." He sounded like he was worrying himself. The other paramedic finally came through the doorway with the manager, who sucked in his breath at the sight of the room. "Sorry, Jim," he said, "had to get a food truck to move before I could park the bus." "Ok, guys," said Jim, "this is my partner, Bruce. Dave, I'm going to take over the pressure from you. Colm, can you hold the IV bag?" "Got it," Colm said, climbing onto the bed next to Keith and leaning his elbow on George's shoulder. Bruce's eyes widened. "Not sure why you needed me, Jim-bo," he said. "You've got some good assistants here, and you're already on a first name basis." "They had things well under control when I got here," Jim said, flashing a smile around the room. "Made things a lot easier so far. But we've got to get a pressure bandage on that wrist, the bleeding's not slowing down much." Bruce grimaced. "Ok,", he said, looking around the room, "Anybody who can't handle blood should probably leave now." "That's my cue," Keith joked, pretending he was going to get up, but raising his head made him so dizzy he dropped back down again and closed his eyes. "Maybe not." George looked down at him. "Let's start that rosary again, lad, it'll keep you focused on somethin' else," he said gently. Keith nodded without opening his eyes. George started the prayer and Keith and Colm both joined in. Jim added his voice as he and Bruce prepared what they needed for the pressure bandage and got everything ready, which earned him a smile from George. Keith opened his eyes in surprise and looked at Jim, who simply nodded back at him, and then said gently, "You probably don't want to watch this, Keith." Keith grimaced at the thought and turned towards George and Colm, fixing his eyes on their faces. Jim and Bruce had set up a face shield to block any blood from spraying towards the other men on the bed, knowing that having them there was the best thing for Keith right now. Bruce warned, "Keith, this is going to hurt, because we've got to get enough pressure on there to slow down the blood flow. Just hang in there." Working swiftly together with the ease of long practice, barely needing to talk to each other, the two paramedics removed the towels and rapidly got a pressure bandage on Keith's wrist. Even as fast as they worked, there was still a small pool of blood when they were done. Keith was grimacing in pain but keeping his eyes on George and Colm as they continued praying. Sharon had turned her back and only turned around when Bruce said, "OK, we're done. We can get you packaged and ready to roll." Sharon spoke up. "Keith is a professional musician. I want a hand specialist to see him in the emergency room in case there is any damage to his nerves or tendons. Can you gentlemen call ahead and get someone in as soon as possible, please?" "No offense, ma'am," said Jim, 'but since Keith is conscious, it's his call." "Sharon's right," Keith said immediately. "In any case, she's both my producer and my manager. I'd have said it myself but I've been trying not to think about it too much." He swallowed hard. "If I can't play..." "Don't go there!" Colm said quickly. "I can't promise you it'll be all right, but keep thinking positive. Our luck's held so far, we got Ryan back in fine form. Nothing's to say we won't have you back perfectly fine as well." "Where is Ryan?" Keith said. "He needs to know I'm OK." "I don't want him in this room," Sharon said quickly. "You can't see it, but it looks like somebody got murdered in here." "Once Keith's on the gurney, we can take him through the connecting door to our room and Ryan can see him there," Colm said. "I have one other request," Keith said, and they were all surprised to see a faint version of his usual mischievous grin. "Will somebody please put some clothes on me and try to tame my hair a little?" All of them, even the paramedics, burst out laughing. Emmet stuck his head in the door. "Hey now," he protested, "I ran down to the lobby in my boxers for you, I think you can take a little embarrassment as well!" Even as he said it, he was moving to Keith's suitcase. "God, man, you know how to make a mess out of a room. This place looked like a tornado hit it before you started bleeding all over it!" He rummaged through the suitcase and pulled out a pair of cut-off sweat pants and grabbed a pair of flip flops. "I don't think we're getting a shirt on you, mate, but we can at least make you decent." Bruce and Jim looked at each other as the guys managed to get Keith at least semi-dressed, grinning, because their squabbling sounded a lot like Bruce and Jim themselves. Sharon had gone off to get a little better dressed herself, as she was going to the hospital with Keith. "Ok," Bruce said, "before we get you up on the gurney here, I need to ask you two questions. I'm pretty sure both answers are no, but I have to ask." Keith turned his full attention to him, as did everyone else in the room. "First, is this injury the result of a fight?" "No," Keith said. "I tried to open the window, but it jammed and then it shattered and my hand went through it." "Given the state of the room, I had to ask," Bruce said. "Like your friends said, it looks like a tornado hit it." "That's perfectly normal for Keith," Dave spoke up. "Any room he's in looks like this 5 minutes after he gets into it. I'm rooming with him this tour, I should know." "OK," said Bruce. "Second question, and this one is really important, because it can affect what medications we can use for you. Have you been drinking or using drugs in the last 24 hours?" "Drinking, yes," Keith said. "We had our Halloween party last night, and we're Irish -" "and Scottish" added George - "so yeah, we were drinking. I was drunk last night, but not so drunk I passed out. I got to bed under my own power. As for drugs, no way. I won't touch that stuff, none of us would." "Good," said Bruce. "Sounds like our crew, eh, Jim?" Jim grinned back at him. "Ok," Bruce continued, "now to get you up on our rolling bed here. Since you couldn't skip out when I asked about the blood, you're not trying it on your own. We're going to lift you." "If you don't mind, we'll handle that," George said. "I think Keith would prefer that, right, brother?" "Aye," Keith said. "If they drop me, I can kick their butts later." He grinned. George stood up, and Bruce and Jim suddenly realized how big he was. Neither one of them was small, but George was bigger than they were. "Emmet," George said, "you get his feet, I'll get his head. Colm..." "I know," said Colm, "follow you with the bag." Bruce and Jim brought the gurney over and locked the wheels. They put the head up slightly, and lowered the whole thing until it was about that height of the bed. George counted and Keith slid over smoothly. "You guys make a good team," Jim said approvingly. "We have to," George said. "We're away from home for months at a time, this little traveling family of ours is all we have." "Traveling circus, more like," said Colm, as Jim took the bag from him and hung it on the IV stand attached to the gurney. "So speaks the newbie," said Keith, grinning. "Of course, Ryan described joining this mess as "running away to the circus" long before you ever came along, Colm."
(The paramedics are based on my two friends Bruce and Jim, who are paramedics and who would appreciate the guys' humor in this situation.)
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mkk59
Wicked Fan
Posts: 94
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Post by mkk59 on Jan 8, 2014 22:05:12 GMT -5
Ha ha! Love that through it all everyone is keeping their sense of humor!
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Post by celticbear on Jan 8, 2014 23:34:11 GMT -5
Great update! A bit of drama and a whole lot of CT Humor! Now update Mother Rose!
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Post by barbt on Jan 9, 2014 7:02:46 GMT -5
Great update! A bit of drama and a whole lot of CT Humor! Now update Mother Rose! I'm kinda stuck on Mother Rose. It's just about done and I'm not very good at endings.
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Post by celticbear on Jan 9, 2014 13:45:31 GMT -5
Hey Barbt I sent you a private message here in Nox.
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Post by barbt on Jan 11, 2014 20:07:39 GMT -5
As Bruce and Jim were cleaning up their supplies, Sharon came back into the room. "Keith," she said, "we're going to need your ID and such." "Dave knows where it is. Can you get it, mate?" "Sure," Dave said, going to where he knew Keith stashed his wallet and similar items in his luggage. "I'll come over to the hospital with you if you want." He took Keith's wallet and gave it to Sharon, then walked over to the gurney. "Much as I'd like to have you there, I'm giving you a more important job," Keith said. "They're gonna have to move us out of this room. You're in charge of all my stuff, including the guitars." "Aye, aye, sir!" said Dave, saluting Keith. "Get outta here, ya pirate," Keith grinned. Looking up at Bruce and Jim, he said, "Are we ready to go?" "Just about." They raised the gurney to its normal height and began maneuvering it through the connecting doorway. Once through, they stopped. Sharon came over to stand beside Keith. "Do you want me to call anyone?" she said, "Your parents, Rebecca, David Foster?" Keith thought for a moment, biting at his lower lip. As much as he wanted to call his family, he knew it would only worry them and that he'd mostly likely be back at the hotel almost before they could get a flight. "No," he said at last. "They'll only worry and they can't do anything. I'll call them once I find out how things are." "What about David?" Sharon was concerned about making sure that Keith got the best of care, and David Foster, the CEO of the record label Keith was signed to as a solo artist, was in a better position to pull strings if needed. She knew Keith would normally have followed this train of thought and known what she meant, but she'd spell it out if she had to. Fortunately, it wasn't necessary. "Yes, " Keith said. "That's a good idea. I'd appreciate, it, Sharon." Colm stuck his head in the doorway from the hall, having taken a moment to grab his keycard from the room while they were getting Keith ready to go. He figured most of the rest of CT were probably going to need to be let back into their rooms by the manager, as he doubted any of them had thought to grab their key cards as they responded to the calls for help. "Keith, are you ready to see Ryan? I've got him out here." "Yeah," Keith said. "Send him in, Colm." Bruce and Jim stood back to give them a little space as the man who had guided them from the elevator to the room came in. Jim gave him a quick professional once-over, remembering what Sharon had said, and nodded to himself. The man was clearly stressed, and Jim could see the hint of blankness in his eyes that told him Ryan was recovering from a brain injury and fighting to keep things together at the moment. Ryan came over to Keith's left side, staring at him, but not able to say anything. Keith carefully lifted his arm, trying not to shift the IV needle, and cupped his hand around the back of Ryan's head. "I'm OK, Ryan," he said gently. "I'm gonna be fine. I was hoping I'd never see that look in your eyes again, I'm sorry I put it there." Ryan found his voice, but it was hesitant and very rough. "When Emmet woke us and said you were hurt, all I could think of was my accident and what I put you guys through. I didn't think we could handle another one." "We're not going to need to," Keith said firmly. "Mostly likely I'll be back here later today with a bunch of stitches and that'll be it. That's nothing new for me, you know that." "I know," Ryan said with one of his sideways grins. "Seeing you helps. I'll be OK now that I've talked to you." "I know," said Keith, "that's why I told Sharon I wasn't leaving until I saw you. Is it going to help you if you come to the hospital with me?" Ryan shuddered. "No," he said firmly. "I don't remember being in the emergency room myself, but I don't want to be back in a hospital again yet." Keith gave Ryan a gentle shove and dropped his arm back down to the gurney. "I didn't think you'd want to, but I had to ask. Take care of yourself until I get back, OK? I'll see you then and you can make sure I came through it OK." "It's a deal," Ryan said, squeezing Keith's hand. "Might send up a few prayers for you." "Can't hurt," Keith grinned. "I did my share of it when you were hurt. All right, guys," he said to Bruce and Jim, "let's get this show on the road." As they went out the door into the hallway, the rest of the CT family stayed out of the way, but it was clear they were relieved to see Keith alert and talking to them as he went. He kept reassuring them that he was going to be OK, but once the elevator doors had closed behind them, he dropped his head back against the pillow with a sigh, looking completely wiped out. Sharon gave him a motherly pat on the shoulder. "I know that was hard, but it was what they needed. Don't try to con me, I know you're hurting and you don't feel good. I deputized George to get everybody up to speed, and I told him that he's not to let more than four come to the emergency room, or they'll all be there clogging the place up. Is there anybody in particular that you want to have come? I can text him and let him know." "George, Colm, and Laura," Keith said. "That's enough, tell him no more." "All right." Sharon sent a quick text. "Although I doubt he has his phone on him," she said. "As I was leaving, they were all starting to ask the manager to let them back into their rooms, nobody thought to grab their cards!" "Where would they have put them?" Keith asked with a faint grin. "You guys must have thought we were all nuts running around in our underwear," he said to Bruce and Jim. "Nah, just too ready to respond to think about unimportant things like clothes," Bruce said. "We know all about that, Jim here had to sleep in his uniform when he was on duty for a couple of months or he'd try to get into the rig in his underwear! Not really what you need when you're going to pick up elderly ladies with heart problems." Jim gave him a dirty look, but then laughed along with Keith and Sharon.
Meanwhile, George had gotten the manager to open his room, and had brought all the CT folks in there so they could talk in private after they all got their own cards. He told them what he knew of Keith's injury, and then said, "Colm and Laura, Keith wants us to come to the hospital, but he said no more, and Sharon forbade more than four of us from going in the first place. I'll send updates back as soon as we find out anything, and I'll let you know when we're on our way back." "How are you going to get there and back?" asked Seana. "The manager said the hotel would take care of it, because of the way Keith got hurt," George said. "When we're done there, they'll send a van back to bring us back here. The three of us need to get ready to go, the rest of you look after Ryan and take care of each other."
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mkk59
Wicked Fan
Posts: 94
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Post by mkk59 on Jan 11, 2014 23:40:26 GMT -5
I love this! The front that Keith put up for everyone makes my heart break for him! Can't wait to read more!
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Post by celticbear on Jan 12, 2014 0:49:16 GMT -5
That's Keith for you! Putting up a great front! Loved the way he handled Ryan! Glad Sharon went with him. And that Keith agreed to let Sharon call Foster.
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Post by barbt on Jan 15, 2014 21:51:55 GMT -5
As Bruce and Jim eased the gurney out the back way towards the ambulance, they grew increasingly concerned about their patient. As animated as Keith had been a few moments before, he was now completely silent and his eyes were closed. They looked at Sharon, who was watching Keith with concern, but who didn't appear to be scared or upset. As Jim got the gurney into position by the back of the ambulance, Bruce went around to the front to start the engine, and beckoned Sharon to come with him. "You know Keith better than we do," he said quietly, "and you don't look too concerned that he's completely shut down. Is this his normal reaction to an injury or illness?" "This is pretty typical," Sharon confirmed. " He'll use every ounce of energy he has to convince everybody around him that whatever is going on is no big deal, or until he gets done what he has to get done, and then he crashes. The fact that he kept asking if we were ready to go told me he was getting close to the end of what he could handle. I'm more worried about his mental state, he actually told George he was scared, and that's something Keith will almost never admit." "Got it," Bruce said. He went around back to help Jim lever the gurney into the back of the ambulance and lock it down. He pulled him aside for a moment to tell him what Sharon had said. "Just keep a close watch on him, Jim. That shut-down could hide symptoms we need to see." Meanwhile, Sharon had put through a call to David Foster. "Good morning, Sharon," he said. "Given the early hour, I'm assuming this isn't a social call. Is everything OK?" "No," Sharon replied. "Keith accidently put his hand through a window this morning." "Oh, no," David gasped. "How bad is it?" "We don't really know yet, we're just getting him into the ambulance now. We're pretty sure there's a cut artery in his wrist, and he's lost a lot of blood. We've already requested that a hand specialist see him in the emergency room; I just wanted you to be aware in case we need more leverage for that than I can apply." "Of course," David said. "Let me know immediately if you need any assistance with that. How's he handling it?" "Kept up a good front until we got away from everybody, and now he's completely shut down. He's admitted he's scared, but he hasn't really said anything else yet." "I don't like that," David said worriedly. "Keep me up to date, will you?" "Absolutely. I need to go, we're about to pull out. I'll update you as soon as I can." As Sharon climbed into the passenger side of the cab,. Bruce was radioing into the emergency room. "This is Unit 17, in-bound, ETA approximately 15 minutes. Patient is a 26-year-old male with a severe right wrist laceration, probable arterial involvement." "Reading you," the person on the other end replied. Bruce continued, "Our patient is a professional musician who is currently on tour. He has requested that a hand specialist see him in the emergency room to assess any nerve or tendon damage. He will only be in the area for another few days and will need to travel on with the rest of his band." "I'll page Dr. Kuntz," came the voice over the radio. "I believe he is doing rounds in the hospital at the moment." "Thanks," said Bruce. "Over." He turned to Sharon. "Doctor Kuntz is one of the best; if you'd asked me for a recommendation, he's who I would have suggested." In the back of the ambulance, Jim was getting Keith settled for the ride and checking his vital signs again. His blood pressure was better now that he was getting fluid to replace the blood he'd lost, but his heart rate and breathing rate were also increasing and his body was very tense. Jim was sure that, as glad as Keith was to be away from everyone, he was having more trouble coping without his friends there to back him up. "Keith," he said quietly. "Are you in pain?" Keith didn't open his eyes, but he nodded. "Your wrist?" Jim asked. "Some," Keith said quietly. "And my head." "Do you want some pain meds?" "No, I don't want them," Keith said opening his eyes. "But I know I need them. Just don't give me anything that's going to make me sleepy; I need to be able to stay alert to talk to the doctors." Jim radioed ahead and spoke briefly with the doctor on call in the ER, then prepared an injection. "Don't worry," he said," I don't have to stick you again. I can put this in through the IV. It'll work faster that way, anyway. Give it a few minutes." Keith closed his eyes again. After a few minutes he sighed, and his body relaxed. Opening his eyes, he said, "Thanks. That's a lot better." "No problem," Jim said with a smile. Wanting to keep Keith talking and not worrying about himself, he said, "Your friend Ryan had a brain injury, didn't he? I saw the look you were talking about." "Aye," Keith said. "In June. We almost lost him, he was in a coma for 3 weeks." "And he's well enough to be out on tour with you?" Jim said, surprised. "When did you start the tour?" "Beginning of September," Keith said. "But he was back with us for rehearsals at the beginning of August." "How's he holding up?" Jim asked. "Today's the first time he's even come close to overloading in over a month, " Keith said. He frowned. "I don't like it that I threw him back into that." Jim grinned. "Overloading. That's a good word for it. Don't blame yourself, you couldn't help what happened, and you did a lot for him by keeping yourself focused like that. I could see he was fighting it, but he held it together. He was doing crowd control in the hall when we came up the elevator." "Really?" Keith looked at him. "That trick of Colm's worked, then giving him a job to do. Come to think of it, if it hadn't been for Ryan's accident, I might be in a lot worse shape right now. " "How's that?" Jim asked. "The only reason Colm's on tour with us this year is because he was brought along as Ryan's understudy," said Keith. "Originally, he wasn't supposed to start touring with us until next fall. If he hadn't been there this morning..." he trailed off. Jim wanted to steer Keith away from that thought. "So he's just riding along understudying? How often has he had to go on?" "Oh, he's been on every night," Keith grinned. "But singing his own parts, not Ryan's. Ryan hasn't missed even one song." He shook his head. "When I think where Ryan was 3 months before the tour started, and where he is now, I have to believe in miracles. I just hope we have another one to spare." He looked down at his wrist. "I can't imagine not being able to play." "What do you play?" Jim asked. "Guitar, obviously, since you told Dave to take charge of them. Anything else?" "Acoustic and electric guitar, electric bass, and banjo," Keith said. "But I'm only doing acoustic in this show. George, Colm, Neil, and Ryan all play acoustic as well, so we've got plenty of back-up for that, like Sharon said." "And she said as long as you could still sing, you would be fine with the tour," pointed out Jim. "It's not so much the tour I'm worried about," Keith said. "I've also got a contract as a solo artist, my first solo album came out about 6 weeks ago. I got that contract partly because of my guitar work." "Even if there is any damage," Jim said, "they're getting pretty good at repairs for stuff like this. It would set you back for a long time, but you'd eventually be able to play again, I'm sure. I know that doesn't sound so good right now, but it's better than assuming you'd never play again." "That's true," Keith said. But Jim noticed that he was getting very fidgety, his left hand picking at the sheet covering the gurney. "You all right?" Jim asked, nodding at Keith's left hand. "That hand is getting pretty agitated." Keith laughed. "I can never sit still for long unless I've got a guitar in my lap," he said. When I don't, I'm always picking at my fingernails and stuff. I can't even do that right now, and it's making me antsy." "I can fix that," Jim said. He pulled open one of the drawers in the side of the ambulance and took out a small ball that seemed to be made of brightly colored, crinkly fabric. "Bruce and I play around with this when we have to wait to go into a scene because it's not safe. Neither one of us can stand having to wait like that." He handed it to Keith, who, the moment he touched it, got a look of surprise on his face. It looked like fabric, but it felt rubbery. As he turned it around in his nimble fingers, he found an edge and suddenly realized that, even though the stuff wasn't sticky, or fuzzy like Velcro, it stuck to itself, and he could pull it apart. It was stretchy, too, and it seemed that the little crinkles somehow locked into each other. It came apart in sections about an inch wide and of varying lengths. Keith found that he could roll it back together one-handed as easily as unrolling it, since it seemed to grab onto itself. Jim watched, amused, as Keith totally forgot, at least briefly, what was going on as he investigated the odd material. "What the heck is this stuff?" Keith said at last. "I've never seen anything like it." "It's a non-adhesive elastic bandage," Jim said. "It was originally developed for veterinary work, but it didn't take long for it to cross over into human medicine. No sticky residue, it's reusable for a long time, and it's really versatile. Those are the leftover bits of rolls that aren't long enough to actually use. It's good for fidgeting with or for playing hacky-sack with, for that matter." "You guys must have the same kind of minds we do," Keith said, grinning at Jim. "We're always finding stuff to play around with when we're bored. Used drumheads make great frisbees, we found out. And then there's Willis." "Willis?" said Jim, "Yeah," Keith laughed. "I don't know where the name came from. Willis is a ball of rolled up electrical tape that we play with backstage a lot. Normally it's football the guys are playing, but Ryan's not allowed to in case he accidently heads it, so they found this ball of tape and now we play with that instead." "Oh, soccer/football," Jim said. "I was lost there for a second, figuring out how you would head an American football. Hey, I got so caught up in this conversation I lost track of where we were. We're here." The ambulance was pulling up outside the emergency room door. "I did, too," said Keith, surprised. "Thanks a lot." He held the ball of bandages out to Jim. "You keep that one," Jim said. "You've got a lot more time that you're going to have to sit still yet. We've got a few more floating around." Sharon came hurrying around the back of the ambulance as Jim and Bruce got Keith out. She was surprised to see him looking so relaxed. "What did you do?" she said to Jim. "Gave him a toy," said Jim, grinning a smile that almost matched Keith's. "And some pain meds." "Oh, well, that explains it," Sharon said, laughing. Keith pulled her over and whispered in her ear. She looked down at him and said, "Absolutely." Then she turned to Bruce and Jim. "If you gentlemen give me your names, I'll hold seats for you at our concert in two days. All you'll need to do is come to the Will Call office." "You don't need to do that," Bruce started to protest. "I know we don't, but Keith wants you to come and see what we do, and you've made a bad situation a lot easier to deal with." "All right," they both said, as they started to take Keith in through the door.
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mkk59
Wicked Fan
Posts: 94
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Post by mkk59 on Jan 16, 2014 1:37:58 GMT -5
Love this! Really love the interaction between Keith and Jim! Can't wait to read the next chapter!
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Post by barbt on Jan 16, 2014 6:55:22 GMT -5
Love this! Really love the interaction between Keith and Jim! Can't wait to read the next chapter! That's my Jim :-) We've been friends for 30 years, and he was the one everybody went to with their troubles in college. He's actually been to two of Keith's solo concerts with me, and was very impressed - he was nodding and grinning at me before Keith finished the first verse of "End of the Innocence" the first time we went. I think the two of them would get along really well - as in really dangerously well
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