After the Rain

Chapter Nine

 

 

Control Issues and A Cup of Coffee

 

 

For some unexplainable reason, as she stood there a few feet away, looking with great concern at the man she loved, Marlena knew what John was going to say, just before his whispered words touched the air. "Stefano was here. He was the one who moved it, Doc. He did it to intimidate me." John swallowed hard as he recalled the utter helplessness that penetrated all the way to his soul. "He just stood there.. watching me struggle, taunting me with it and.... laughing."

           

A feeling of sheer panic took control and adrenaline coursed through her veins, and Marlena gasped as she realized for the first time how utterly vulnerable they both were to Stefano Dimera. John lying totally helpless in a hospital bed and she and their children unprotected at the Penthouse without him, other than the security system, that is. The horror touched her voice as she responded to the statement she instinctively knew was coming, "Oh...my God, John! I don't know why I didn't think of that in the first place." Near tears, she expressed her fears by making a firm declaration of her intentions, "I'm going to have a guard posted outside your room, immediately!"

           

His equally determined reply shocked her, "No.. Doc.. I'm not going to let him get to me that way."

           

Her eyes flew open wide with disbelief and she shook her head to disagree, arguing strongly, "But... John... you can't do anything to defend yourself.. I won't leave you here unprotected.. not ever again and that's all there is to it!" Marlena turned away from him and took several steps toward the door before John's emotion laden voice stopped her in her tracks.

           

"No...Marlena...please.. listen to me," he said, his voice soft and low, almost desperate. She turned back again, sensing intuitively that he was about to share something that was very important for her to hear; she was right.

           

His lips trembling slightly, his voice cracking, John opened his heart and let her see all of his pain for the first time, "Doc, if you.. take control of everything, no matter what I say... then tell me... what kind of a man can I be, what kind of a.. *person* can I be? I can't.. move my...arms and legs, I can't..  feed myself...I can't really do.. anything.  If you take charge of this.. it's like saying that.. even my will means nothing."

           

Her heart was breaking just to hear him speak so openly and she wanted to say something, but was left speechless by the total vulnerability he was displaying. Instead, she sat down near the bed, made solid eye contact and listened intently, as he shared his innermost feelings with her. "Marlena, if you.. won't let me make any of the decisions... then what am I.. but a.. pet to you.. some... *thing* to be... taken care of. If that's the way you want it.. then just leave me here. The nurses will do a damn fine job of it. You won't have to be burdened by coming to see me anymore, or trying to figure how in the *hell* you're ever going to have any kind of a life with a quadriplegic husband!" When he finished, he was waging a gradually losing battle to hold back those infuriating tears of helpless frustration. He'd used the word he'd banned the nurses from saying to describe himself, and it suddenly seemed real to him. For the first time since the accident that paralyzed him, John considered the possibility that he might truly remain in that condition, though it had been only 48 hours or so, and the doctors kept saying there was still hope.

           

For Marlena, hearing him make those comments was like being smacked in the face with her own new reality. She had no idea he felt that way, or that she had been conducting herself in that manner, and then suddenly, she saw it all so clearly. In order to function through the fear, Marlena had taken complete control of every aspect of John's life, which was the exact opposite of what he needed from her. He needed to be given as much control as he could possibly handle since his body was not within that realm. She had symbolically emasculated him when he was already feeling as helplessly dependent as any human being could be. Marlena burst into tears for the pain and anguish she'd been causing him, "Oh... honey.. I didn't realize what I was doing... I'm so sorry.. I didn't mean to take so much control over you. I'm very sorry, John..."

           

Still quite upset, John wanted to make sure she understood, but the pain flared again, shooting up and down his spine with intensity and a groan escaped his mouth in spite of his valiant attempt to squelch it. "Oh..." Marlena saw his struggle and said quietly as she reached up to stroke his hair, "Honey... I think we should talk about this later.... when you aren't in so much pain... it's too stressful."

           

"No..Doc! We need to talk about it now! Oh.. God!" he exclaimed involuntarily as another fiery tendril went from head to toe, taking away his capacity to think clearly for the moment.

           

Marlena started to cry again, hating to see him suffer so much...Forcing herself to remain calm, she spoke as soothingly as possible, while caressing his taut cheeks, "Sweety... I'm going to see what's keeping Mike and Dr. Collins... you just hang on, okay?"

           

Through ragged breaths, John forced himself to fight through the pain to concentrate and tell her what was imperative that she hear and accept, "NO! Listen to me... I need you to listen to me, Doc!"

           

Watching him suffer such agony was unbearable; she couldn't do it, no matter what he said. She was about to rise in spite of his plea, but his eyes stopped her. The pain she saw there was deep and worsening by the minute and it wasn't related to the excuciating physical sensations in his body. It was more profound, more significant and long lasting than that. Marlena shut her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath and made herself sit down next to him, readying herself to listen as he was so desperately requesting that she do.

           

It was almost more than he could manage to look at her, to formulate rational thought when the pain flowed through every region of his body like an electrical current, but it was vital to his survival, and Marlena sensed it. Using every mental discipline he ever learned, John was able to get the words out in between episodes of pain, his breathing labored and harsh, "Marlena... I need... to feel like... you still value.. my opinions.. that you.. rely on me.. for something. Lying here.. in this bed.. is so..hard! I need to feel.. like I matter... like I'm still a.. husband and a father.. because I can't.. touch you, I can't... Oh.. I just.. can't do so many things.. and when you take over like that...I feel... useless!"

           

Marlena was nearly sobbing as she realized more fully with each word he spoke, how wrong she was to have run roughshod over him the way she had been doing, "Oh...John... listen to me.. I have never thought of you that way... you are so valuable to me.. so important.. and I guess I've been trying to take care of you and protect you because you're so vulnerable right now. And taking control helped me cope with the fear but I was wrong to do that, John... I forgot about what you really needed... and what's worse is... I didn't even ask you."

           

"Well, you can ask me now.. if you want to..." he offerred hesistantly, as the pain subsided for a moment.

           

"I'm sorry, honey... I'm so sorry for how I've made you feel. I love you and I do respect you and value your opinions. None of that has changed, John... I promise.. I won't take control like that, not *ever* again."

           

Sighing with the knowledge that he'd finally gotten through to her, he said, "Okay... thank you... I love you." Then another jolt of pain reminded him that he couldn't wait much longer for pain relief. He winced and fought for control, then said with quiet urgency, "Now...you can go get Mike...it's getting bad again."

           

Nodding tearfully, she leaned in to kiss him and affirmed that idea as she stood up to go, "I'll be right back, honey... I'm glad we.. talked about that."

           

"Me too," he said, a weak smile gracing his face for the first time in almost 24 hours.

           

Within an hour Dr. Collins had arrived and was discussing various strategies of pain control with Mike, alternately reviewing John's chart and examining the injury. Observing the level of discomfort his patient was experiencing and the expression on Marlena's face, the physiatrist said convincingly, "John.... for now.. I think we should... sedate you.. then we'll look into some of the alternatives. I can see how much you're suffering right now.”

           

His frustration with being out of control was reaching unparalleled levels and he shouted at them "I said NO!! I don't want to be unconscious any more! I already told Mike that! Ah..AH!" he called out involuntarily, his facial muscles taut, as the agony intensified again without warning.

           

As the seconds passed, Rob Collins became increasingly convinced of his opinion. "John...what you're doing now.. fighting off the pain the way you are.... it can actually hinder the healing process because the body spends precious resources that should be used to continue healing your physical injuries, delaying your overall recovery. I'm saying this as an experienced Doctor.. please... John... do this... for yourself."

           

John looked to Marlena who was weeping heavily, then at Mike, who let his friend see that he too thought it was the wisest action, nodded his head, his expression demonstrating that he cared as a friend and as a doctor. Lastly, John observed the professional but sincere concern on his newest doctor's face, and decided that it was for the best. With defeated tears welling up in his distressed eyes, he agreed,  "Allright... go ahead, put me out."

           

Marlena stepped closer again, took his hand and held it up in front of him, kissing it and saying, "Thank you, honey...you made the right decision... I know it's hard... but I hate to see you in such pain... John, I'll be right here when you wake up... okay?"

           

He nodded fractionally and spoke very softly, "Okay..." he said, letting his head fall back against the pillow, preparing himself for the inevitable, as he watched the nurse inject another syringe into his IV line.

           

Dr. Collins spoke with uncommon warmth, as he placed a hand on his patient's neck to make a personal connection, "John... I'll be back in a few hours to check on you... and we'll talk about some of my ideas for more effective pain control and your rehab program as well.. alright?"

           

John nodded resignedly and sighed with exhaustion, feeling overwhelmed with the entire situation, a part of him still denying the reality of what he was facing. He made a last ditch effort to move something again, though he knew it was futile, that there hadn't been any indication of return in the better part of two days following the injury. Suddenly, as the doctors were preparing to leave, Marlena stood up to see them out, and bumped the table on which her coffee cup was perfectly positioned to land near John's left shoulder, if spilled.

           

As Marlena looked on in horror, grabbing frantically for the cup, John's eyes saw the coffee cup about to topple over and splatter his body with possibly scalding hot liquid. Instinctively, he flinched and the muscles in his left shoulder and upper arm twitched slightly, but noticably.

           

The doctors weren't looking in his direction until Marlena screamed, "No... Oh no, John!" as she saw that it was going to be too late, that he was going to be burned. John moved again, just enough to keep most of the spilled substance from scalding his upper body. "OW!" John cried out as a portion of it splashed a trail from his rib cage to the upper part of his left arm below the shoulder, then on to his collar bone area, his neck and ear.

           

As his wife and the doctors scrambled for something to soak up the hot liquid, John laid there with a strange smile on his face. Then he expressed what he was feeling and thinking... "Doc... do you know what this means? I.. I..can feel that, I can feel the pain.. on my skin... I can feel it.. it's burned! My skin is burned, isn't it? And... I... I moved, Doc... I moved!" he exclaimed with great joy in his voice. That emotion was contagious and seemed to fill the room as the seconds passed.

           

She had been so worried about him that it hadn't dawned on her yet, but the images returned and the reality of what her husband had just said began to penetrate and go beyond her concern. "Oh.. John! You're right...you did feel it and you moved so that most of it hit the bedsheets instead of you... Oh, John... I'm so happy!"

           

The doctors were still barking out orders to the nurses to ensure his burns were treated properly, but in John's eyes they were minor... the pain sensations on the surface of his skin were a welcome focus of attention for him. And, the fact that his brain had sent a warning signal to his arm and upper body and the nerve fibers were able to translate that message into movement meant everything to John. It meant there was hope. For the first time since he had awakened in the hospital after the incident with Roman, there was real hope for a full recovery from the injuries he'd suffered.          

           

After the worst of the burns were taken care of and the lion's share of the pain was subsiding due to the treatment provided, Dr. Collins asked a simple open ended question, "John... how are you feeling right now?"

           

His face bore the oddest of expressions as he said, "It hurts.... it hurts alot... but I'm so glad it does! I can feel my arms and my chest now... and I moved to avoid the coffee. That's good news, isn't it?" he said, almost grinning, his positive response to the incident clearly evident.

           

Mike was nodding, smiling and forcing back a tear or two and Marlena was crying, overcome by the emotion of the moment. Rob Collins smiled widely, as he too nodded and told his patient exactly what he wanted to hear which was the truth, "Yes... John... it's very good news! Tomorrow morning we're going to run a whole new set of tests and and another MRI, but all indications are that what you have is a spinal cord concussion as Mike first diagnosed and that the swelling is beginning to recede. We'll know for certain when we get the results of all the tests, but it looks good for a full recovery, John," the man said enthusiastically. He loved the cases where he could be the bearer of joyous tidings; they were definitely few and far between.

           

His eyes were filled with mirthful moisture and he was loving it as he looked at his lady, asking ecstatically with a quavering voice, "Did you hear that, Doc? I'm going to make it back... I'm gonna make it all the way back!"

           

She was weeping steadily, and all she could manage was a tearful nod at first. It was so... wonderful she coudn't even begin to express what she was feeling. So, for long moments all she did was cry and lean down to hold him in her arms. Finally, she spoke, "Oh... honey.. I've been praying every hour since it happened and so has everyone else who loves you.. I'm so.. happy.. I can hardly.. speak. I just love you so much, John!" she cried joyfully.

           

John couldn't hold back the heavenly floodgates any longer, as he too wept with joy. "And I love you.. my wife! It's gonna be okay, Doc... everything's going to be okay now!" The wondrous sensation of her body next to his, of her hair brushing lightly on his upper arm was the most incredible feeling in the world to him and he would never again take it for granted, not for one minute.

           

Mike Horton and Rob Collins looked on for another second or two before exiting silently, leaving the couple to enjoy their special moment. Both doctors knew it wouldn't be easy going for John or Marlena in the weeks and months ahead by any stretch of the imagination, but the end result would be worth all the frustration and pain. It wasn't necessary to talk about all that now. The newly married couple needed to savor the thrill of restored hope. Mike looked back one last time before closing the door, then said in quiet whispered tones, "Thank you, Lord... for spilled coffee and the difference love makes."

 

On to Chapter 10

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Sandra H. Bondelier

1998