Recoveries... a KnightWATCH story

Chapter 11

         “Come on, Connie, wake up!!” Joel Palco pounded on the front door of Connie MacKenzie’s apartment. “I know she was worn out last night, but I didn’t think it would be this bad.”

         “Honey, think about it for a second.” Amanda Neuharth put her hand on her fiancés shoulder. “What if that had been me in that wreck? How would you feel? And how would I be reacting if that were unit 53 that had cracked up yesterday?”

         “Believe me, angel, all of that and more has occurred to me.” Joel pulled Amanda close to him. The previous day had been a reminder of everything important to him, and how easily it could all change. “I just hope that if anything should ever happen, you’ll get the support you need.”

         “Good God, Joel, why wouldn’t I?”

         “Well, I’m kind of on the outs with some folks in Knightsbridge. Let’s just say that there are some people I don’t see eye-to-eye with.”

         “Screw ‘em, Joel. How many of those nay-sayers have worked more than two shifts with you? How many of them aren’t burnouts?”

         “Thanks, Amanda. From what I’ve hard, most of my detractors are heading down the burnout highway. What’s sad is, some of them are younger than me. I don’t understand why they’re burning out, and it may be safer that way.” Joel knocked on the door again. “I’m really afraid of what this is doing to Connie, though.”

         “Why?”

         “I knew she had some feelings for David, but nothing like the tidal wave she poured out last night.” Just then, the door cracked open. Connie MacKenzie peeked through the crack, her hair sopping wet.

         “What do you – Joel, Amanda, I’m sorry. Come in. I’m afraid you caught me in the shower.” Connie opened the door all the way, letting Joel and Amanda into the living room. There they found a recliner, a sofa, a small coffee table, two end tables, and a bookshelf mostly filled with medical texts. The glow from a 19-inch television dimly lit the room, marginally helped by one of the three table lamps scattered about. “I suppose you’re here about my car. Can you give me a few minutes to finish putting myself together?”

         “Not a problem,” replied Joel. “Take as much time as you need.” Joel wasn’t worried about time, even with the “lengthy repair job” he routinely teased Connie about. It was 2:45 in the afternoon, which left more than enough time for them to have an early dinner before going to the airport. Colleen Furman, David’s sister, was flying in at 6:30 that evening. Knightsbridge had “asked” Joel to pick her up at the airport and take her to a hotel near Carrolton Medical Center. 25 minutes later, Connie came out in stone washed jeans and a rugby shirt, her hair dried and brushed out.

         “Okay,” Connie said, “let’s get my car before Carrolton has it towed away.”

         “Connie, let’s do an early dinner,” Joel replied. “We’ll bring your car back here, then grab a bite to eat someplace.” He and Amanda had hatched this plan as a way to get Connie talking again, and to see if she was up to meeting David’s sister. “Judging by how you looked when you opened the door, you haven’t had much to eat today.”

         “Actually, that sounds damn good, Joel. I’m famished. But I’ll need to stop by an ATM first.”

         “No you won’t,” Amanda rebutted. “This one’s on me tonight. No arguments.”

         “But –”

         “No buts, Connie. I’m picking up the tab. End of story. And yes, I can afford it.” Despite her youth, Amanda was a senior account executive at a downtown ad agency. She could easily afford dinner for them and several other people.

         “Why am I sensing a double-team conspiracy here, guys?”

         “Double team, Connie?” Joel smiled at his paramedic. “Amanda and I would NEVER dream of doing something like that.”

         “Bullshit, Joel,” Connie replied with a smile. “I’ve heard you plot all kinds of various little pranks. More than a few times you’ve set the lights and sirens on a truck to go off on some unsuspecting person. And who was it that left defibrillator gel on the driver’s door handle of the supervisor’s unit?”

         “I refuse to answer,” replied Joel, “on the grounds that I might incriminate my fiancée.” A few seconds of silence passed. Then both ladies started throwing pillows at him. Joel returned fire as best he could, but was quickly overwhelmed by the two-to-one odds. “Okay, okay,” he laughed, “I surrender!”

         “Good,” replied Connie. “I’m hungry. Let’s go.” 40 minutes and a car shuttle later, Joel pulled his minivan into the parking lot of Branstead’s Restaurant and Bakery. Known for the best pies in the city, Branstead’s had a menu that widely ranged in both variety and price. “Now just a gall-darned minute,” Connie exclaimed as she refused to get out of the minivan. “When you said you were buying, Amanda, I expected McDonald’s or Long John Silvers. This place simply costs too much. I won’t hear of it.”

         “Connie, you can stuff that idea while you’re stuffing your face. Here is where I’m buying dinner, no ifs, ands or buts. Let’s go.” Amanda pulled on Connie’s arm to emphasize the point. When Joel reached in as well, Connie knew she was beaten and submitted to the moment. Inside, the three chitchatted and small talked their way through dinner. The serious discussions started just after dessert was ordered. Joel decided it was time to press a point or two.

         “Connie,” he asked, “why did you sleep in so late today? You’re usually up early, out doing errands and such. Did David’s wreck hit you that hard?”

         “Well… yeah, it did. Let’s be honest, Joel, that was a rather ugly wreck. Having to treat a coworker hammers it home.”

         “Especially,” countered Joel, “when you’re treating a coworker whom you also have a mega-crush on. Don’t tell me that wasn’t personal, Mac. I know better.”

         “Of course it was personal. Anytime you have to treat a coworker, it’s personal. You can’t avoid that.”

         “Then answer this, Mac.” Joel hoped he wasn’t going overboard, but felt he had to press his point. “If that had been, say, Greg Gunderson or ‘Nicky the Greek’ on 88, or Marcel Grey or Alicia Stephenson on 55, would you have been as emotionally exhausted as you were after treating David?”

         “Well… well…” Connie looked down to her half-empty dinner plate, unable to speak for several seconds. “What do you want me to say, Joel? That I’m worshiping David from afar? That after I finished my shift, I turned into a puddle of confusion? Are those the words you want to hear? Tell me so I can answer you.”

         “Here’s want I really want.” Joel put his hand on Connie’s. “I want you to be honest with me on how you feel about David. But even more so… I want you to be honest with yourself.”

         “What, Joel? Am I somehow lying to myself?”

         “Connie, you and David can’t have a relationship because of the anti-fraternization rules at work. Because of that, I think you’re denying just how much you care about him. Your tactic seems to be, ‘If I don’t admit it, then it doesn’t hurt as much.’ But yesterday threw all of that in your face, didn’t it?”

         “Threw it in my face? Hell, Joel, it blew me across the damned highway.”

         “How come it didn’t affect you the rest of the shift?”

         “I locked it all away after we cleared the scene, kept it there through the end of our shift.”

         “What about after the shift, Connie?”

         “When I got in my car, Amanda, the walls crumbled.” Connie began to lightly sob. “I sat there and cried for ten minutes. Then I said, ‘Connie, you have to be strong. You can’t let anyone see you this way.’ When I saw him… lying there…” Connie choked up and started crying. Amanda hugged the woman while Joel held her hand. They hoped this would help Mac face her feelings before they tore her up. Until she did that, Connie MacKenzie would not only be of little help to her patients, but might even be unintentionally harmful.

         “Connie,” Joel said, “I talked with Bobbie Carswell this morning. She said Critical Incident Stress Debriefings are being planned over the next several days. Anyone who wants to go can attend, be they line crews, dispatchers, whomever. They’ve got counselors lined up, and they’re trying to get clergy as well. The only restriction is you can’t go while on duty. The meeting times will be posted this afternoon. I really think you should go.”

         “I can’t, Joel.” The conversation stopped while the waitress served dessert and refilled coffee cups. Once the waitress left, Connie started crying again. “Joel, there is no way in Hell I can go in front of my coworkers and explain my feelings for David. Shit, I can’t even explain them to myself, let alone say them to a bunch of folks who honestly won’t give a rat’s ass. You’re the only one. Keep it that way, please.”

         “Yeah, well… you already let that cat out of the proverbial bag, Connie.”

         “What? I haven’t told – ”

         “You sobbed about it in front of 20 other crew members outside ICU last night. Your secret is out, and I’m sure the rumor mill is spreading it around incorrectly. So CISD will do two things for you. One, it’ll help you handle what you’re feeling right now. Two, it’ll help squash any rumors and set folks straight.”

         “Well… I’ll think about it.”

         “Connie,” Amanda added, “if you want. I can arrange for you to meet with my minister. He’s really good.”

         “Thanks, Amanda, but I’m an atheist. God gave up on me some time ago, and I returned the favor. We haven’t spoken in years, and I don’t see that changing.”

         “Okay, but if you do change your mind, let me know.”

         “Thanks, Amanda. And I do appreciate that you guys are looking out for me. But, frankly, it’s none of your damn business.”

         “Bullshit, Connie. It becomes my business because I work with you, and I have to know that you can handle whatever we might come across. Yes, you kept it together for several hours after the wreck, and handled several more calls. You tucked away your concerns into a little cubbyhole inside you. But once that door opened last night, those concerns stampeded out. Do you really think you can stuff them back into that little cubbyhole?” Connie sat staring at her apple pie, unable to do anything but shed several silent tears. “That’s what I thought. Connie, you’re not alone. There’s people who want to help… and others like you seeking it. Take advantage of what’s being offered. Hell, take time off if you need. But take care of this before it destroys you.”

         Amanda put a hand on Connie’s shoulder and looked directly at Joel. The couple had been engaged long enough to communicate without speaking. Joel and Amanda agreed – taking Connie to the airport was the LAST thing that should happen.

         “I think I need to be alone now. Could you take me home, please?” Amanda paid the bill as Joel and Connie walked out to the minivan. “Joel, I know you mean well. I know you don’t mean to hurt me. But this is hurting so damn much. Part of me truly hates you, you son of a bitch! I hate you!!” Connie started hitting Joel, trying to punch him in the head and chest. Joel simply stood there, absorbing the blows and waiting for Connie to wear down. Amanda walked out in time to see Connie’s last punches bounce harmlessly off of Joel’s shoulders.

         After tucking Connie safely in her apartment, Joel and Amanda drove to the airport. It was 4:45 in the afternoon, and Colleen Furman, David’s sister, wasn’t due in until 6:30. The couple figured they’d have plenty of time to park and have a drink, even with rush hour traffic. They didn’t know there would be hours and hours of waiting ahead. They didn’t even know whom to look for. All they knew was that it would be an awkward meeting.



         Meanwhile, Connie was stirring around her apartment. Once again, the 24-year-old paramedic was overwhelmed by her emotions. Because of the anti-fraternization rules, Connie had spent the last several months denying her feelings for David. If his name came up, she’d state that he was a good EMT, and that she thought he would make a good paramedic. She didn’t tell people that she also saw good husband/parent material in David. Nor did she reveal that she saw herself as the wife and mom in the picture.

         Connie had lost patients in the past. Each incident had a small emotional effect on her, which she mentally redirected into harder work and better training. Because of her past experiences, Connie thought she had seen and accepted mortality.
         Then David wrecked. Connie had been mostly in paramedic mode, doing her job, with only a few hints of her feelings. Those five minutes in ICU, her feelings ripped to the forefront by David’s condition, had been her first real lesson in mortality. Faced now with picking up the pieces and rebuilding herself, she wasn’t sure how to do go about it.

         Connie spent the next two hours wandering around her apartment. She straightened up magazines, only to rearrange them ten minutes later. She kept trying new arrangements of her throw pillows. After finally running out of things to do, she picked up the phone and dialed a long-distance number.

         “Hello, daddy? Yeah, it’s Connie. I’m not doing bad… actually, I’m scared.” She had to take a second to breathe as she choked on her words. “Well, there was a wreck… No, no, I’m not hurt. Another ambulance was in the wreck, the driver was hurt real bad.” Connie took advantage of her father’s question to get a few breaths in. “Yeah, he’s someone I like… I didn’t now how much until he was hurt.” Connie began sobbing. “I don’t know what to do, daddy. I can’t think of working right now.” She sobbed softly as her father asked another question. “Yes, there are people I guess I could turn to. But I’m not sure how… okay, daddy, I promise I’ll try… yeah I’m a bit tired. I’m gonna go to bed. Night-night.” Connie hung up the phone and stumbled to her bed, sleeping in her clothes a second straight night.