A New Perspective on an Old Theme
folder
M through R › Psych
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
27
Views:
4,896
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
M through R › Psych
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
27
Views:
4,896
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Psych, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 8 -- ". . . Some Confusion is Understandable . . ."
“Where’d the nurse go?” He asked and the Doctor shook his head as he started to examine the younger man.
“I’m Doctor Connors, Mr. Spencer, and there was no nurse in here,” the doctor said. “At least, there shouldn’t have been. I left orders for your visitors, whomever they might have been at the moment, to come get me the very minute you woke up; no one else,” he smiled pleasantly, and Shawn supposed it was supposed to be comfortingly, as the doctor offered him a cup of water, complete with a bendy straw. Shawn drank for a moment, and the doctor pulled it away. “Not too much, now,” he cautioned. “You can have some a little later.
“Anyway, as I was saying, I have a lot invested in you young man, and I wouldn’t leave your care to just anyone. I went to a lot of trouble to make sure you lived, and I intend to keep you that way . . . personally,“ he shrugged. “But then again, after what you’ve gone through, as I’ve explained to those who’ve visited you, some to the point of obsession . . .“ he gazed pointedly at Henry, who ignored him just as pointedly. “Some confusion is understandable. So, tell me, Mr. Spencer. Do you remember exactly what it was that put you in the hospital?”
“I was shot . . .” Shawn said, and his eyes widened, then tried to shut them as they were stabbed by the light from a penlight, and he gazed, almost fearfully at his father. “Did they get . . .”
“Yeah, Shawn, they got her,” Henry answered. “Turns out it was just another wacko looking to get revenge on the cops. Karen put her fifth cousin on her mother’s side twice removed in prison, and he died there, yadda yadda yadda. And everyone’s fine by the way.”
“I know,” Shawn smiled as his eyes popped wide open and a sharp gasp of pain left him as the doctor pressed gently on his incisions, and grasped the bars of his bed until his knuckles were white. The doctor covered him back up, and nodded, obviously satisfied.
“Well,” he said with a smile. “You’re doing as well as can be expected -- in fact, I’d even say better than expected. The decision to put you into a medically induced coma for a few days was obviously the right one. You didn’t move, the stitches have had a chance to take, and the skin is joining beautifully.”
“You have an odd definition of the word ‘beautifully‘,” Shawn winced as he tried to hold himself perfectly still, and the Doctor nodded.
“In medical terms, Mr. Spencer, you are doing beautifully. Medical terms differ from laymans terms. But for right now, I’ll give the order for some pain meds to be put directly into your I.V., and then you can get some more sleep. If you continue to do well, in a couple days you’ll be able to get out of ICU and into a regular room. Once there, we’ll start you on a more normal diet.”
“Sounds good, Doc,“ Shawn confirmed, and then frowned. “But tell Nurse Ratchett it’s rude and downright creepy to just walk into someone’s room, stare at them, and not say a word, ‘k?”
“All right, Mr. Spencer. I‘ll make a note of that,” the doctor said, somewhat indulgently, and had Shawn not been in so much pain, he would have called the man on his tone. However, there was one thing he had to get off his chest . . . no pun intended.
“Look, Doc. You pretty much know me from the inside out. Please, and I’m almost begging you here, ya’ gotta’ call me Shawn. He’s . . .“ he pointed at his father. “Mr. Spencer.”
“Alright, Shawn,” the doctor said, and patted his patient’s arm. “But I’ll just see about getting you that pain medication now.” Shawn nodded and closed his eyes, and the doctor walked out of the room followed by Henry.
“I’m Doctor Connors, Mr. Spencer, and there was no nurse in here,” the doctor said. “At least, there shouldn’t have been. I left orders for your visitors, whomever they might have been at the moment, to come get me the very minute you woke up; no one else,” he smiled pleasantly, and Shawn supposed it was supposed to be comfortingly, as the doctor offered him a cup of water, complete with a bendy straw. Shawn drank for a moment, and the doctor pulled it away. “Not too much, now,” he cautioned. “You can have some a little later.
“Anyway, as I was saying, I have a lot invested in you young man, and I wouldn’t leave your care to just anyone. I went to a lot of trouble to make sure you lived, and I intend to keep you that way . . . personally,“ he shrugged. “But then again, after what you’ve gone through, as I’ve explained to those who’ve visited you, some to the point of obsession . . .“ he gazed pointedly at Henry, who ignored him just as pointedly. “Some confusion is understandable. So, tell me, Mr. Spencer. Do you remember exactly what it was that put you in the hospital?”
“I was shot . . .” Shawn said, and his eyes widened, then tried to shut them as they were stabbed by the light from a penlight, and he gazed, almost fearfully at his father. “Did they get . . .”
“Yeah, Shawn, they got her,” Henry answered. “Turns out it was just another wacko looking to get revenge on the cops. Karen put her fifth cousin on her mother’s side twice removed in prison, and he died there, yadda yadda yadda. And everyone’s fine by the way.”
“I know,” Shawn smiled as his eyes popped wide open and a sharp gasp of pain left him as the doctor pressed gently on his incisions, and grasped the bars of his bed until his knuckles were white. The doctor covered him back up, and nodded, obviously satisfied.
“Well,” he said with a smile. “You’re doing as well as can be expected -- in fact, I’d even say better than expected. The decision to put you into a medically induced coma for a few days was obviously the right one. You didn’t move, the stitches have had a chance to take, and the skin is joining beautifully.”
“You have an odd definition of the word ‘beautifully‘,” Shawn winced as he tried to hold himself perfectly still, and the Doctor nodded.
“In medical terms, Mr. Spencer, you are doing beautifully. Medical terms differ from laymans terms. But for right now, I’ll give the order for some pain meds to be put directly into your I.V., and then you can get some more sleep. If you continue to do well, in a couple days you’ll be able to get out of ICU and into a regular room. Once there, we’ll start you on a more normal diet.”
“Sounds good, Doc,“ Shawn confirmed, and then frowned. “But tell Nurse Ratchett it’s rude and downright creepy to just walk into someone’s room, stare at them, and not say a word, ‘k?”
“All right, Mr. Spencer. I‘ll make a note of that,” the doctor said, somewhat indulgently, and had Shawn not been in so much pain, he would have called the man on his tone. However, there was one thing he had to get off his chest . . . no pun intended.
“Look, Doc. You pretty much know me from the inside out. Please, and I’m almost begging you here, ya’ gotta’ call me Shawn. He’s . . .“ he pointed at his father. “Mr. Spencer.”
“Alright, Shawn,” the doctor said, and patted his patient’s arm. “But I’ll just see about getting you that pain medication now.” Shawn nodded and closed his eyes, and the doctor walked out of the room followed by Henry.