“My name is James Brooks. I’m an administrator here.” I paused, allowing him time to mentally keep up with me. Simple and clear voices would be good for him. “I’ve been at this hospital for about twenty-two years.” I gestured with my head to Sam. “Dr. Chisholm is my friend, and in fact, he did his residency here with me.” He needed to hear that I was friends with Sam. That way if he started to trust me, he’d trust Sam because he knew that I did.
I tossed the plastic wrap in the trash bin and unfolded the rectangular beige fleece that was attached to the bear. I fluffed out the fleece portion so he could see this was the head of a teddy bear and its body was the two-foot by three-foot fleece. Trauma and shock could be combated silently with something soft and comforting. The fact that the bear was warm made this even better. I set the bear blanket on the bed beside his left arm. I didn’t expect him to actually take it in his hands, but by setting it beside him, he knew it was his and there if he wanted it. His eyes focused immediately on the bear.
“Do you mind if I put the warm blanket over your legs? The top of the blanket will come up to here,” I motioned with my hand and pointed to his abdomen, though I didn’t touch him.
He nodded and then quickly reached for his head. His pulse began beating faster, and Sam gave me a look that meant he really needed to get an I.V. in his arm to administer some medication. I nodded to Sam so he knew that I was aware but to give us a few moments. Without rush or panic, I pulled the warm blanket over his skinny legs and, as promised, let the top of the blanket rest against his abdomen.
“It looks like your head hurts. Can you hold up one finger if it does, or two if it doesn’t?” I asked.
The young man didn’t pull his hand away from his head, but clearly extended one of his splinted forefingers. Caution needed to be used with mentioning drugs. I recalled he had signs of cocaine in his blood, and knowing that his arms have been through hell, I was pretty sure he wasn’t going to accept it easily. If he had willingly taken the cocaine, he wouldn’t have batted an eye at the nurse when she asked for his arm. Instead, he had been protective of his veins. I had a suspicion that the drugs had been forced into him.
“My friend, Dr. Chisholm, has a medication that can help with the pain.”
It was paramount that he be reminded that we were here to help him and not harm him. But he also needed clear options. Until I uncovered more from him, I was treating him as having been abducted, and my gut told me that I was right. Right now, I didn’t believe this young man joined the kink house willingly.
“Dr. Chisholm has a few options for you, and you can select what you’d like.” He needed to know that he had the choice and that control of his life was back in his hands. “You can take an oral medication, a pill, and it’ll help with the pain. Or he can give you a shot in your upper arm. That option will work a little faster than the pill.” I patted my upper arm so there was no confusion for him. “Or, he can start an I.V. and get the pain medicine moving the fastest.”
I paused and watched his eyes move back and forth, while his hands flexed against the heated blanket. For a moment, I worried that I may have overwhelmed him.Too many options.He started to yawn and then quickly reached for his bandaged mouth. The motion of yawning probably pulled at his skin and caused him more discomfort. When he pulled his hand away from his mouth, he held his arm out to me. I wanted to make sure we were on the same page.
“Would you like the shot in the upper arm?” I patted my bicep. “Or the I.V. in your wrist?”
I had glanced at his arm, and the bend of his elbow was full of marks and scars. His wrist had some damage, but nothing like the elbow. With his other hand, he touched his wrist, confirming that he had made his decision. I nodded at him and then watched Sam start the I.V. without causing him pain or further anxiety.
“Lay back and relax. The medicine will kick in, in just a few minutes,” Sam explained.
The young man laid back in bed and leaned his head to the side until his chin rested against the top of the bear’s head. Despite the sound of his rapid pulse through the monitors, I could tell that he was relaxing. Though the pulse hadn’t slowed much, he was doing a little better. I moved the notepad from the table and set it on the side of the bed beside his leg. I balanced the thick blue marker in my hand and eyed him.
“I know your mouth hurts and is causing you pain.” I held the marker up. “If there is anything you’d like to say or ask, you can write it.”
I made sure he saw that I loosened the cap so if he got the urge to write, he didn’t have to worry about trying to take the cap off with his sore hands. Sam needed to go check on some other patients, but I assured him that I would stay with our young John Doe.
Each time he seemed to nod off and his head would fall onto the bear’s head, he’d jerk awake. The heart rate would increase, and he’d look around frantically.
“It’s okay. You’re safe here,” I promised him. His eyes would nervously shift from mine to the area just beyond the curtain of his bay where doctors or nurses scurried about. “I will stay here with you, so you can get some sleep. Okay?”
The young man nodded and scooted down into a more comfortable position.
“Are you warm?” I asked and stood when I saw his feet moving together under the blanket. I reached into the comfort pack on the side table and showed him a packaged pair of navy fleece socks. “Would you like these on your feet?” I asked him and held the socks out toward him so he could touch the material.
He looked at the socks as if they were a mirage but reached out with a hand and touched them with his fingertips.
“They’re very soft and warm. I actually have a pair that is similar to these at home. They’re the same fuzzy fleece. Mine are black, though,” I calmly said.
He needed to start hearing calm voices from those around him. Which had me thinking that as soon as Sam thought it was safe, we would need to move him to a private room. The ER could bring on noises and panicked or stressed voices that could make this tachycardia worse. When he glanced at his hands, I had a feeling that he was trying to figure out how he could get his socks on with several splinted fingers. I pulled the socks out of the cardboard packaging and smiled at him. I had a feeling I had earned just enough trust from him that he’d let me put these socks on him.
“Would you like me to put these socks on your feet?”
His eyes quickly flicked down to where his feet were nestled close to one another under the blanket.
“I could just lift the blanket up to your ankles and put the socks on your feet, then I will pull the blanket back down,” I offered.
He was close to accepting my suggestion. I knew he was cold from the inside out and these, if nothing else, would help him feel covered. His bright blue eyes looked at me, and he nodded.
“Very good.” I walked to the foot of the bed and added, “You’ll love these.”
Slowly, I rolled the blanket up to his ankles and looked at his feet. They were filthy, bruised, and some of the toenails were really long, while a few others looked like he might have picked at them. His heels were dry with white, flaky skin.
I pulled the two socks apart, turned them inside out, and set them on the heated blanket. Using a corner of the heated blanket, I covered up the socks and then looked at him.
