A New Perspective on an Old Theme

Henry entered Shawn’s room, and gazed quietly at his son as the doctors words about him being a hero played in his mind. He continued to watch Shawn, and fought to keep the worry out of his eyes, and from his voice as he walked once more to Shawn‘s bedside, where he sat in what he had come to think of as ‘his‘ chair.

“He’s giving the order for your pain medication now,” he finally said.

“Good“ Shawn sighed, and for a few long moments, the two men were quiet, and Shawn half-chuckled. “This . . . this has to be a . . . first,“ he all but grunted as he shifted and tried to lessen the pain in his side, but as he did, the pain in his chest flared, and he shifted back to his original position.

“What does?“ Henry asked as he fidgeted helplessly with each shift, suppressed gasp of pain, and wince, and every few seconds, he glanced at the door as if he could produce a nurse and some pain meds through the sheer force of his will only.

“Us. Being in one place for more than a . . . few minutes without . . . fighting.”

“We do it all the time, Shawn,” Henry said and leaned forward. “All I have to do is fill your mouth with food.”

Shawn gave a small bark of laughter at the unexpected joke, and gritted his teeth as his hand flew to his chest.

“Oh. Ow. Not fair, Dad. Taking advantage of the wounded for a cheap shot,” he actually grinned, and Henry patted his hand. The door opened, and Henry thought about taking his hand off his son‘s -- after all, rough, tough, policemen, even retired ones, didn‘t like to get caught holding hands, even with their sons. However, he thought about how close he‘d actually come to having that hand, so warm and alive in his, cold and lifeless, and he tightened his grip as the somewhat attractive nurse approached the bed.

“This was ordered for your pain,” she said quietly, and Shawn smiled as she efficiently shot the medication into his I.V..

“I like this nurse,” he said and actually batted his eyes at her.

“Talk to me about how much you like me after a week of me making you get up and move around,” she said as she winked at him, then left the room. Again, silence reigned between the two men as Shawn watched the drip fill the tube that went to the needle stuck into a vein in his hand.

“Dad,” Shawn finally said as he looked at the ceiling. “I’m . . . I’m kind’a’ scared here,“ he finally said, and Henry realized exactly how hard that was for Shawn to admit, especially to him.

“I can understand that, but the doctor said you’re going to be okay,“ he tried to assure his son, but Shawn shook his head, and exhaled as his body grew heavy, and he blinked several times as the ceiling slowly spun.

“Good . . . drug,“ he said and his head literally sank into the pillow. “Gotta’ ask . . . Doc . . . what is . . .“ he shook his head and closed his eyes. ”Not . . . scared . . . ‘bout that,“ he murmured, and his father leaned in closer as it was getting hard to understand him as Shawn’s words slurred.

“Then what are you scared about?“ Henry asked, and Shawn looked at him, or rather, in his general direction, and obviously fought the effects of the medication.