Saturday, July 31, 2010

Any Other Day - Part Three

He was hauled into wheelchair on arrival, much to his disgust. "This is really not necessary you know," he muttered as Callie drove it through the side entrance, he really didn't need any unwanted press over this and besides it would already be on You Tube and fifty thousand people's cameras. Just fucking great.

She pushed him up the ramp to the door. "Like you could walk on it, nor you should be even trying until we know what's going on." His wife and her doctor hat shining ever so brightly. 

"I managed on stage didn't I?"

"Barely, Jon."

"What about the kids?" He hated to even think what his kids would have been thinking, they hadn't had a scare like this before in their lifetime.

"They're worried, I saw them before you left the stage to reassure them and that we'd call when we knew what was going on." Flashes of white jackets and the hustle and bustle of hospital life when zipped past him as his wife tried to beat the formula one record down a hospital corridor.

"Good, they shouldn't be worried it's only a strain." He swore as pain blindsided him when he lifted his leg out of the wheelchair. 

"Right, a strain."

"Don't gloat, you know I hate when you do that." He frowned, all their years together and she was the one that knew him better than anyone else. And sometimes, he hated that. She flipped to logical so quickly, more than he did these days and in hindsight its what kept their family operating as a little unit between the crazy but hell, if she could just take a step back from it for a minute. Jesus.                                                             

She patted his shoulder, "I'm right and you hate."

He growled, "it's my leg. I know what's happening, as I said it's a strain."

"Dr Bongiovi, right this way." Dr Colbert appeared in the corridor armed with a clipboard and his stethoscope slung tight around his neck. 

Most husbands would kill for medical privilege like his wife was getting them but he was so pissed off that all this clinical talk was killing him. 

"Thanks Paul, I appreciate this, this is Jon. my husband. He's got a suspected tear, did it on stage towards the end of the concert tonight from an innocent wrong back step from what I could see."

He motioned them into a room and the nurse that flanked Dr Colbert hooked her arms under his, "I'm just going to move you up to the bed."

"Fuck," he yelled as his leg bent and the fire zig zagged up his leg. 

Dr Colbert waved at the nurse. "Get him ten milligrams of morphine."

Callie shook her head before the words could leave his mouth. "Just oral please. No morphine, he's had three advil as we left the stadium." He closed it again, he hated fucking shots and he wasn't touching morphine with a ten-foot barge pole.

He raised his brow and and looked at his chart. "Ok, we'll get an anti-inflammatory into him, that'll help work with the pain relief."

Callie took his hand linked her fingers through his and he relaxed a little. This was his worst nightmare and he didn't want to even think about what ramifications this was going have, he  was determined that it would have none. 

"We'll have to cut the pants off him, it'll be easier than trying to get him out of them, less stress on the leg." Jon's eyes widened as the doctor held up a pair of shears. 

Good fucking Christ, he had no choice but he hated the fact he couldn't do it himself. Hated it. They made a cut and then tore the fabric up to the thigh. His calf was red and looked like it had been inflated like a balloon. He blew out his breath, "shit". It didn't look that great. 

He took Jon's vitals and examined the leg carefully.

"You ok?" Callie whispered. He clenched his jaw as the doctor felt around the leg.

"Been better," he hissed when he pressed his thumb into the side of his calf.

"I'd like to do an MRI, to see the extent of the damage but I'm suspecting a grade two tear." 

A MRI? Were they fucking kidding? And what the hell was a grade two, freaking doctors. "What is that when it's in fucking English?" Jon asked.

"Jon," Callie warned.

Dr Colbert continued. "It means it's a significant injury but with rest you should be back to normal within six weeks or so." 

Jon folded his arms, "Well that's not likely to happen I have concerts all this month. Is there something we can do?" What would he do with the rest of the concerts? They were already booking concerts in South America for September and August was off-limits. He wasn't going out like this on the last leg of the tour, he wasn't that guy. 

"Let's get the image and then we'll discuss that. Take the anti-inflammatory and we'll let that kick in before moving you, I'll prescribe you some Vicodin. It'll be a rough couple of days while it settles." He scrawled the chart and handed it to the nurse. 

"Is there anything else?"

Jon shook his head, but Callie continued, "can we have some ice while we wait for the MRI?"

The doctor nodded at the nurse, "sure. Nurse can you please sort Mr Bongiovi some ice?"

The nurse nodded and the doctor flipped the chart closed. "Ok, someone will be a long to take you to the scan shortly."

Callie smiled, "Thanks Dr Colbert." The doctor left and she pulled out her phone.

"Are you calling the kids?" Jon asked rolling his head back against the pillow.

"Nope, I'm ringing a colleague of mine, he's very good with sport's injuries, pays for a second opinion."

Jon shuffled back onto the bed, "what? Do you not trust your own -- aw fuck," he curled his fingers around the edge of the bed as he moved the leg without thinking.

"What did you do?" 

"Moved wrong," he winced and then puffed out a breath. "I don't need a second opinion." Why couldn't she just stop? He just wanted her to sit here and be with him. Not try and run his damn medical care. 

She held her hand up. "I've got his voicemail." She relayed a brief message about coming by tomorrow to the house. Callie clipped her phone back and poured him a glass of water, "it'll help get the pain killer flowing." She perched on the edge of the bed and took his hand, "are you ok?" Warm blue eyes calmed him again, she always had this uncanny way of doing that, as if she cast some kind of spell over him. 

"I'll be ok when I get out of this fucking place, I hate hospitals." He pinched the bridge of his nose, "I'm so stupid. Of all nights had to be tonight when I'm looking at a string of shows one after the fucking other."

"I know, not the best timing but you can't blame yourself. These things happen. We'll see what the doctor says, I'm worried about you being on that leg on stage though." 

"I can't cancel. I just can't the band, the and everything that's riding on this. We'll lose money, they'll lose money."

"Ok shhh, we won't talk about it yet. Let's see what the scans show, just try and relax and the let the drugs work." He closed her eyes as her hand swept over his forehead. 

"We won't talk about it because it's not happening, it's not an option."

"Jon, you don't want to do anything stupid here. We'll see what they say, you can't be pig-headed about this and no one will thank you for ending up lame."

The nurse returned with the ice-pack and applied it to his leg and left leg. He fell silent as the cold bit his skin, this sucked.

"Are you still in pain?"

His eyes flicked to hers and then back to his leg, "no it feels fucking wonderful."

"I can give you a shot of morphine, I know you don't want one but it will relax you."

"Not having one, don't need it. It's just a strain," he grunted.

She sighed, "you're the worst patient ever." 

She was right, but he was the one sitting disabled with his pants shredded to his thigh. Callie's phone beeped but she put it away again.

"Who was it?"

"Obie, I'll ring him when you have the MRI, Richie can go a long with you." 

"I don't need a babysitter. And why isn't Obie ringing me?" 

Callie sighed, "because he wants you to focus on getting the medical attention you need. I can do the updates. I always have."

Jon grunted, again she was right. She was always the one that he trusted to take control of a situation when was unable to, it didn't happen often but when it did she always stepped in with ease. "I hate this Callie." She perched herself on the edge of the bed and tucked her chin into his shoulder.

"I know you do, but you've got to trust them and just take this hour by hour." She soothed his arm with her hand, "I know for a man that's always thinking ahead it's hard. But you just gotta, for me?"

He dropped his forehead to her head and took in her scent, "ok. I'll try." He just wanted her with him, he hated to admit it but she was playing doctor when he wanted her to play wife. He was a little broken and he needed that Callie strength he always had when things got rough, the one that made him the man he was today. "Callie, get Rich to make the calls--"

The door swung open and the orderly wheeled in the chair. "I'm here to take Mr Bongiovi for his scan."

Callie hopped off the bed and pulled out her phone, "I'll get Rich and make these calls. See you soon honey." She kissed him on the lips and disappeared out the door.

"Callie!" He called for her but the door clicked closed behind her. Dammit. 


  1. Loving this...not the injury/pain, but the breakdown to Jon the man vs Jon our Superman. So happy you've decided to continue this!

  2. Oh, what a pleasant patient! So glad I didn't have to deal with THAT! Jon, you're NOT Superman, so stop trying to be one...and stop thinking that you know more than the doctors - including your wife - do! Listen to your wife and let her look after the medical stuff.

    That being said...Callie your husband needs you to comfort him now....but I get that you want to know the full extent of the damage first.

  3. Poor Jonny, he's been in the wars lately. So, what happens next?

  4. need another chapter yesterday :)

  5. Such a little boy--just like all men. Wants to be coddled, not Doctored. LOL But hey--pssst. Jon. That's what you get with a doctor for a wife. LOL You'll get coddled later when the emergency is over.

    LOL Cute scene. Showed a lot of frustration and pride on Jon's end.