When Carter’s other half came wheeling into the Emergency Room, his better half witnessed everything from the ceiling. He sensed no chance of his getting lost. He needed to only think about his body, and it appeared. Heaven appeared flawless, but this proved to be pretty cool too, he thought.
Carefully edging his body onto an operating table, the doctors and nurses frantically prepared to save a life. They prepared themselves with masks, rubber gloves, and hairnets. Most of the blood, which had originated from Carter’s forehead, had been cleansed and controlled en route to Boston General. Carter could see other blood spots beginning to ooze, but for the most part they had contained the gashes.
The doctor stepped away. “Hang on!” he said. He took his bloody gloves off, and then washed his hands thoroughly. He splashed cold water on his face and ripped paper towels from the dispenser. After shooting a line-drive into the trash, he returned to the table with a new pair of gloves. With both hands, the doctor felt every inch of Carter’s head to check for a wound, but found none.
The doctors then uncovered the patch at Carter’s hairline, a major concern that had been radioed in by one of the EMT’s on the helicopter. They had reported a possible life-threatening gash, following along Carter’s hairline, and then jutting into his head. Once the neurosurgeon pealed the patch away from Carter’s head and soaked up the blood with gauze, he could not find the source of the blood. He wiped the area clean. Carter heard the dumbfounded doctors theorize that the blood possibly came from his bodily cuts and abrasions during his grounding, and that the paramedics must have been mistaken.
Once the neurosurgeon strapped on his gear, preparing for last call action, Carter really wondered if he had unfinished business on the planet below. As far as he could see, he looked pretty dead, but figured the crew would stop trying when that was the case, letting him return to the clouds. But it looked very serious to Carter as he witnessed from the ceiling, but these days death proved difficult with new medicine and lawsuits. They were determined to save his life.
“I’m looking at the possibility of a brain injury here,” the neurosurgeon in charge belted out to the ICU team. “Low blood pressure. I need oxygen…gimme oxygen now. Intracranial pressure gotta come down or we’re gonna lose him. Look at the monitor. Look at…we’re losing him. Endotracial tube.”
Carter could hear the leader shouting orders to save his life, and he wanted to thank him and tell him it wasn’t necessary. After all, it was merely life on earth.
“EEG’s dyin’. Step it up…ventilator. I.V. Come on. He’s losing power…heart rate? Heart rate…heart rate!” the doctor screamed.
These workers ignored Carter, acting as if they were too busy to hear, he thought. He could only count the minutes, and his mind began to drift around his surroundings. Dust had collected upon the big operating light, but only Carter knew that. He thought of other neglected chores, while attempting to write his initials in the dust, but his fingers only passed through the lamp.
As Carter peered down upon the operating table once again, he discovered his eyes glued right down into the cleavage of one of the nurses. He broke his retinal connection, feeling ashamed even though he knew he could not be caught. Then he began thinking about how much power he really had over the other guys. Carter got lost for a bit, forgetting who he was and where he was and what was happening to him. He got lost in the valleys and needed rescuing, which came after he heard a very loud electricity-charged explosion.
He slowly came to and instinctively scanned the room for the origin of the sound. He felt dazed, almost as if he was directly linked to that electrical charge. He was buzzing, but slowly returned to normal. He again rejoined the scene of watching himself on the operating table. He remembered the valleys, but he was also overcome with a feeling that he was coming unglued.
A flat tone that echoed throughout the room separated Carter’s gawking from its target. He noticed the doctors and nurses shifting into higher gear. One of the doctors yelled, “Clear…clear,” then paddled Carter’s chest with enough energy to shock his body a foot off the table. The tone persisted, so the paddle returned, and this time Carter’s leap beat the first leap by a good three inches.
This time Carter felt the reunion. Magnetism gradually pealed him away from the ceiling, beyond his control and without his permission, pulling him back into his body, which jerked at the completion of the merger.
As the tone went haywire, Carter felt pain for the first time since the accident. From the perspective of the eye sockets of his shell, he stared idly at the ceiling that previously held his mirror image. Oh, the pain, he moaned. Never had his head hurt in such a way. It made a hangover preferred. He began mumbling prayers indicating his wish to return to his last destination. He wouldn’t hurt up there.
“Why did you have to paddle me that second time?” asked Carter aloud. “Things were so much better before.”
The doctors and nurses paused only long enough to exchange curious looks, but their job was to make sure that their patient remained in this world.
“And I think it’s high time ya dust up there,” Carter suggested.
The ICU crew continued their work, paying no mind to their patient’s comments out of nowhere, plenty used to such groundless banter in such a setting as the ICU.
CHAPTER FOUR
Carter’s recovery was deemed a “miracle” according to Dr. Hans, one of the leading Neurologists at Boston General Hospital in charge of the Intensive Care Unit’s Head Trauma Center.
The injury to Carter’s head should have been fatal, or at the very least severely debilitating. The head trauma Carter received had indeed flattened his EEG, which, as Dr. Hans had explain, “should have kept the line flat.” He could not explain what brought Carter back to life any more than why he had been completely healed. Carter had been supposedly brain and heart dead.
“Hello Carter,” Dr. Hans began. “You look well.”
“Thank you, doctor,” said Carter, wanting to say the same except for the fact that Dr. Hans had one wisp of hair pushed across his head.
“I’m baffled as to why we’re having this conversation,” said Dr. Hans. “We lost you on the operating table. We lost you in two ways, and I was seconds away from peeling off my mask and reading my watch.”
Carter only listened, hiding a secret and a smirk inside that special head of his.
“My last ditch effort to restart your heart explains one save, but as for no signs of a head wound, my staff and I are…”
“Doctor,” said Carter. “Do you have some aspirin for my head?”
“Yes…yes I do,” he replied.
“Make it the generic brand. I can’t afford to go with the name brands.”
The doctor and his smirk left the room and returned minutes later with name brand aspirin and a cup of water.
“Here are some free samples,” said the doctor, who watched as his patient swallowed the two pills.
“Carter,” he continued. “First of all, you not only survived, but soon thereafter, we placed you in a private room simply because you have no known injuries. I mean, you’re nearly ready to go home. The electrical wiring in your brain is completely intact. You had a head wound according to the paramedics who brought you in, but nothing when you arrived, and there is no swelling in your brain as was to be expected.”
Dr. Hans stood up, shaking his head, and began to walk away. He stopped, turned to Carter and said, “This is incredible!” Then he passed through the door.
Dr. Hans’ visit was replaced by the visit from the leading Psychologist with the hospital, who specializes in helping people cope with sudden loss. The fiftyish, balding man sheepishly strode into the room and greeted Carter, who wondered if Dr. Hans had tagged this new
doctor before he could enter the room.
“And who are you?” Carter asked, figuring this would probably be happening all day long. He even wondered if the media would catch wind of this miracle since they never miss a beat.
“My name is Dr. Fredericks. I’m just going to help you understand a little more of what you’ve been through, and I’m afraid I have to begin with a little bit of bad news.”
“I wouldn’t consider the loss of my parents as a little bit of bad news, doctor,” Carter replied, staring into the doctor’s deep-blue surprises.
“You know,” Dr. Fredericks blurted.
“Yes.”
“And how did you find out? I…I mean, who told you?” The doctor wiped his brow, and underneath changed several shades of red, which Carter noticed coming to the surface.
“By the looks of the car, they didn’t have a chance, for one,” Carter said.
“So you were conscious in the beginning? You saw the accident hap…”
“I don’t remember a thing of what happened during the accident, doctor.”
“Then how’d…”
“I had the best seat in the house, that’s how,” Carter replied as he leaned up in bed. He wasn’t angry with the doctor. After all, the shrink was just doing his job, but Carter had just lost his parents and felt he just needed time alone. He had to get away from everyone and everything. He didn’t feel like he could heal very well by being bombarded with reminders of what had happened. He saw it, so reminders would probably be suitable on that back burner.
“So Carter, I guess if you know all there is to know, somehow, then my being here is pointless, right?”
“Right,” said Carter dryly.
“That’s what most people think.” The doctor took a dry swallow, and pressed on with his point. Anyone would assume Carter had to be hurting, and at all cost the doctor could not outwardly break. “I think you must first deal with the trauma of waking up in the Emergency room. What was the first thing that crossed your mind when you opened your eyes?”
“Oh, I knew where I was…doctor,” Carter said, rising up on his right elbow again. “I could see everything that happened…from the time I supposedly died to the traffic congestion to the Jaws of Life…from the ambulance carrying my parents…to the helicopter carrying me, and the paddles in the Emergency room.” Carter stopped suddenly, remembering that he shouldn’t be taking this out on the doctor.
Carter stared through the doctor’s eyes and into his soul. He could read the phony confidence in his facial expression, and he could hear it in his voice. Carter was sure that this doctor was used to post-trauma, and patients would just listen to his bullshit and take it hook, line and sinker. Carter knew that the moment his bullshit was contested the doctor would fold his cards and concede. He could sense this in the doctor’s act and tried to lightly push his buttons just to test his theory. After all, he wanted people to be straight with him, and especially after all that he’d been through. He was sick of the fabrications in his life.
Dr. Fredericks rose with charts and clipboard in hand. “I think you’re all set Carter,” he said in a hurried speech. “I…I don’t believe there is anything else I can do for you.” Doctor Fredericks scampered from the room without so much as a look back.
Three nurses replaced the doctor. Carter wished he could float from his body just to see if a parade of hospital personnel stood in line outside his door. The job description of these nurses included comforting Carter after hearing about the tragic and unexpected deaths of his parents, but they all kept looking back at the door wondering why the doctor breezed through it so quickly.
Two out of the three nurses looked as though they could be models. One of them had blonde hair swooping down and out. Carter found her very pleasing to the eye, and noticed that her blue eyes and button nose made for the perfect nurse. As he looked her up and down, he stopped and choked up when he noticed that there was a very good reason that she looked familiar to him. He had seen her in the operating room, and maybe a little more than he should have.
The second nurse was average looking, but in a sexy way. The white uniform curved nicely with her shapely figure, making her close to a ten, he thought. She had straight, dark brown hair, which fell beyond the middle of her back. Her high cheekbones created the elegance she displayed.
Carter stopped his eyes at that point because he did not want to force himself to observe the third nurse, but two out of three suited Carter just fine, so he agreed to let them do their job.
The third nurse turned out to be the spokesperson for the group. “We just wanted to stop in and see how our patient is doing today,” she said, a sizable gap in the middle of her wide smile. “We lost you for nearly five minutes. That’s commendable, Carter. Any longer and it could have caused irreparable brain damage. You’re very lucky.” Her nodding head lasted longer than her message.
The three nurses then presented Carter with their sad, sympathetic smiles. They spent the next few minutes making Carter comfortable, fixing the sheets and covers, stroking his hair, and other gestures nurses do to ease hard times.
Then Carter’s first visitor interrupted this comforting. Charlie stood at the door with a broad smile as he had been observing the spoiling treatment. After Carter noticed his friend, the nurses took the distraction as their replacement. After all, visitors are far more comforting then nurses. However, in this case, Carter could have begged to differ.
Charlie was a welcomed sight for Carter, though. He was the first recognizable person he’d seen since the accident. Charlie and his visitors to follow: friends, neighbors, and even hospital staff did not know exactly how to handle such a delicate situation. After all, he’d lost his entire family in an auto accident. What can you say to the sole survivor? Could any words soothe the pain? Nobody seemed to think so, and speaking seemed to be at a minimum.
There were a lot of tears, and uncomfortable silent hugs. He heard people tell him they were so sorry about what had happened, but nothing much more. All he could do was thank them for coming, and convince them that he would be fine. He knew there was a lot involved in the healing process, but he wasn’t about to open another can of worms.
Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd stopped into Carter’s hospital room to pay him a visit. They had known Carter since he was a baby. They were neighbors, living just three houses away, and there was only half of a right-hander’s left-handed stone’s throw between houses. Although they had no kids, they very much enjoyed Carter, and were fairly close to his parents.
They were very busy neighbors, too. Both worked fulltime and then some. Mr. Lloyd was the head of the town Parks & Recreation department and his wife was a secretary in the Town Manager’s office. That was where the Lloyds met. They got together about once per week with his parents for Gin Rummy, Setback, Backgammon, Scrabble, or they just went out for a few drinks. They grievingly approached Carter with red eyes as if fresh tears had just dripped out of them.
“Hi Carter, how’s my man?” Mr. Lloyd asked through a sniffle.
Mrs. Lloyd appeared by his side, grabbing Carter’s closest hand and holding on to it.
“Doing okay under the circumstances,” Carter replied.
“Are you feeling any pain?” Mrs. Lloyd asked. “We can get the nurse if you need us to. Just say the word, and we’ll get help here for you right away.”
“No…no thank you. I’m fine,” said Carter. “Really, I’m fine.”
“If there’s anything you ne…” Mr. Lloyd began to chime in with his open invitation, but time had run out. That’s when Carter’s picture went blank and the visit was forced to end.
CHAPTER FIVE
On day five, Boston General Hospital released Carter. Charles arrived there a couple of h
ours ahead of time to help Carter get everything in order. Carter knew that his life would be different, almost to the point of starting all over again. He had no relatives that were even close to the Boston area, and the ones that once were close had passed on.
His stint in Heaven did make him treat life as a gift, even though he now had no fear of death, and no regrets about where his parents now were. He did have to block thoughts of jealousy, though, because it was such a nice place to visit. After getting all of his things together, about 20 staff members saw Carter off. Charles finished the journey to his car with Carter right beside him, and they began heading away from the hospital and in the direction of Carter’s parent’s house.
***
Carter was alone when he crept through the front door of his parent’s house, then froze, paralyzed by fear of the unknown. His body began to tremble from this crippling phobia, which shot through him like lightning. All the work he had done on himself through the years, he thought, and he still suffered. He had thought his weaknesses and insecurities were behind him, but now he knew that they would always be with him. He believed they were ingrained, and wondered what it would be like to have overall strength. Oh, to be a complete person, he thought, then wishing that nobody had that.
Carter knew he had to break away from his past. A new beginning wasn’t just a good idea, but it was essential. He could not do the Boston thing anymore. He needed to escape, and this seemed to be the time. Change was on the horizon, but he had to be on the horizon instead of seeing it from his familiar perspective. After all, he wondered, what would he be breaking away from? How much truth was involved in his current life? He realized that many questions remained unanswered, ones he needed answers to, but at least now he felt a little empowered to control his destiny. He could try to discover his real identity and look forward to a future instilled with truths, since that much would now be in his hands. He at least felt good about being able to right the wrongs from here on out.
Desert Son Trilogy: Desert Son, Wayward Soul, Spiritual Intervention (Books 1-3) Page 4