Medical Complications | By : Binary Category: M through R > M*A*S*H > M*A*S*H Views: 3932 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own M*A*S*H, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Disclaimer:
MASH ain’t mine, but I sure do wish it were…
Medical Complications
‘MASH 4077th: Best Care
Anywhere’ said the sign beside the dusty, potholed road my jeep had been
driving along for what seemed like days. I found that hard to believe –probably
not even better care than the 121st evac, I thought, let along Tokyo
General. I’d served at both, but was still young enough and stupid enough to
think I knew it all. That was what had taken me to a MASH unit in the first
place – arguing with the Head Nurse once too often.
The driver brought the jeep to a halt
outside what seemed to be the biggest tent in the untidy compound. The flaps
were down so I couldn’t see in, but a sign on the tent door said ‘The Swamp’.
It seemed an unlikely name to me, but before I could comment on it the door
opened and a scruffy guy wearing a purple dressing-gown over his fatigue pants
came out. As soon as he saw me, he switched on a smile and hurried over,
extending a hand. “Hi! You must be the new nurse. Welcome aboard, I’m Captain
Pierce, Chief Surgeon, raconteur and nurse-lover, but most folks round here
call me Hawkeye.” I shook his hand, politely, and let him help me out of the
jeep, but I had already worked out why his tent was called ‘The Swamp’: he was
obviously a complete reptile.
“Captain,” I said, giving him a cool nod,
“I’m Lieutenant Emma Brown. Where can I find your commanding officer?”
“Colonel Potter,” he said, maintaining the
smile, “He’ll be in his office. I’ll be happy to show you right to his door.
And then after that I could show you to the nurses’ tent.”
Yes, he would know where the nurses’
tent was, I thought. “Thanks, but if you could just point the way, I’m sure
I’ll manage,” I said.
“Hey, Hawkeye – new nurse on the block?”
said a female voice behind me, and I turned to find a plump, pleasant-faced
young woman with Lieutenant’s bars coming toward us. “Hi, I’m Kellye, welcome
to the 4077th,” she said, her smile looking far more sincere than
Pierce’s had, “You’ll be bunking in our tent, I’ll show you where that is once
you’ve reported in.”
We left Captain Pierce standing in the
dust, and Kellye took me through to meet our CO; the Head Nurse, Major
Houlihan; and the company clerk, name of Maxwell Klinger. First impressions?
Potter – crusty but kindly; Houlihan – briskly efficient, unlikely to take
kindly to insubordination; Klinger – an artful dodger, but probably the kind of
guy it’s good to get on the right side of. I suspected there was very little he
didn’t know about the camp, and even less in the way of supplies that he
couldn’t lay his hands on for the right price.
Once I’d found my bunk – top one, right
hand side of the tent – and unpacked the few belongings I needed for day-to-day
use, Kellye and the two of the other nurses took me over to the Mess Tent for
lunch. ‘Saving the worst till last’ they said, and they weren’t kidding – the
food was just awful, and the coffee not much better. Still, joking about the
stuff helped to break the ice, and we were all giggling about some quip Baker
had made about the bacon when the door opened and Captain Pierce came in,
accompanied by another man who, Kellye told me, was Doctor Hunnicutt. “Usually
known as BJ,” said Baker, “He’s a nice guy. A good doctor, and he definitely won’t
make any passes at you.”
Lacey nodded, explaining: “He’s got a wife
and kid back home in San Francisco. Bores me to tears sometimes to hear him go
on about them, but at least he keeps his hands to himself.”
“Unlike dear Hawkeye,” said Baker, rolling
her eyes, and confirming that my initial suspicion of the Captain had been well
founded.
The door opened again and Kellye opened her
mouth to tell me who had just come in, but I put a hand on her arm and said: “I
know.”
She looked startled. “You know Major
Winchester?”
“Yes,” I said, staring across the tent and
wondering whether I wanted him to notice me or not. Charles Emerson Winchester.
I’d never thought to see him again, certainly not dressed in fatigues in a MASH
unit mess tent. “I knew him in Tokyo,” I said to Kellye, knowing I was blushing
and hoping she wouldn’t notice.
I’d known him in Tokyo alright. Before I
got sent off to the 121st, Charles Winchester and I had been lovers.
-
Oh, don’t get me wrong, I don’t mean that
I’d been in love with him, or he with me. But we’d flirted in the Operating
Room on my first day in the Hospital, met for dinner the second night, and by
the third had discovered a shared love of music, wine and literature , as well
as, yes, an abundance of mutual desire, which had not exactly gone to waste.
Now here we both were at the same MASH
unit, and I sipped my coffee while I watched Charles collect his lunch and
saunter across to slide into a seat opposite the two Captains, which surprised
me a little. It surprised me even more when he made some remark that set all
three of them laughing. Another man, a black sweater under his fatigues, sat
down with them just then, and I noticed his crucifix just as Baker said:
“That’s Father Mulcahy with them. He’s just as decent a guy as you’d expect.”
“But watch out for his left hook,” added
Kellye, giggling.
“Sounds like there’s a story behind that,”
I said.
“Uh-huh. Tell you what – we’ll tell you that
story if you tell us yours!”
“Mine?”
“Yeah – you know – you and the Major?”
Lacey prompted, with a nudge and a smirk.
“Nothing to tell,” I said, much too
quickly, though the three of them just threw me skeptical looks and didn’t
press it, which I appreciated.
“Oh well, probably just as well. I’m due in
Post-op in ten minutes,” said Baker, getting to her feet.
“And I’ve got a pile of laundry to sort
out,” said Kellye.
“I need to get myself sorted out,” I
said, standing up with them, “Any chance I can grab a shower, do you think?”
“Sure. I’ll show you where they are,” said
Lacey.
We made for the door, and I took another
look over my shoulder toward Charles. This time he happened to be looking in my
direction, and I gave him a big grin and a wink. He looked astounded, and his
food dropped right off of his fork as he stared, but after a moment or two he
returned the smile, and I exited the tent with the others.
-
We’d only made it halfway across the
compound when the PA system crackled to life: “Attention! Attention! Incoming
wounded!” it squawked, as an elderly bus and three ambulances rounded the
corner and jolted to a halt right in front of us, throwing up dust and almost
drowning out the noise of the helicopter that flew overhead, making for the low
hill just outside the camp.
“Come on!” Kellye yelled to me, running to
the back of the nearest ambulance. I ran with her, and I wasn’t the only one.
People seemed to be dashing from all over: orderlies and corpsmen, nurses and
doctors. Doctor Hunnicutt climbed into the ambulance in front of me and was
already diagnosing even as the first patient was being stretchered out of it. I
wasn’t entirely sure what I should be doing, so I looked around for Major
Houlihan who, to my amazement, seemed to be doing triage.
“Major? Major, I just got here this
morning, I don’t…”
She looked up for the briefest of moments,
then returned her attention to the boy on the stretcher beside her. “Shoulder
wound, he’s a little shocky but he can wait,” she said to the nurse opposite.
She stood up and returned her attention to me. “Brown. You’re an OR nurse,
right?”
A nod.
“Go scrub, you can assist Doctor Winchester.
Captain!” She hurried off toward Captain Pierce and I made my way
through the ambulances and litters to the scrub room.
-
The atmosphere in OR was… frenetic. I was
used to there being one operating table in one quiet room, but this… There was
chatter, people scurrying in and out, and barely room to move more than a
couple inches without bumping into another nurse or the surgeon behind you. I
took a couple of deep breaths and focused on the surgical instruments on the
tray in front of me. At least they were familiar!
“So, Lieutenant, getting a strange sense of
déjà vu?” The voice was familiar too, as were the blue eyes that
twinkled down at me over the surgical mask.
“I am now,” I replied, feeling as though he
had lifted me out of quicksand and put me down on firm ground. This was what
I’d trained for, what I knew. I already had the scalpel in my hand ready by the
time Charles requested it.
It seemed strange though to hear the
Doctors trading quips and insults. Even Charles joined in, giving as good as he
got. I guess it was a way of coping, and certainly the Colonel seemed inclined
to let it ride (even adding his own two cents worth from time to time), so I
kept quiet and just got on with handing Charles the instruments he needed.
When Captain Pierce burst into song though
I had to say something. I mean, how tasteless is that? I couldn’t believe
anyone could be that insensitive, but there he stood, looking down at his
patient, scalpel in hand, and squawking a rendition of ‘I’ve got you under my
skin’ that just about made my ears bleed.
I glanced up at Charles, who was visibly
wincing behind his surgical mask. “Will you tell him he’s flat, or shall I?” I
said, loudly enough so that Pierce would hear me.
The Captain, of course, just took that as
his cue to ‘sing’ (if I can call that off-key noise ‘singing’) more loudly.
Charles shook his head. “Just try to ignore
him, Lieutenant, anything else merely encourages him.” With a last glare in
Pierce’s direction, he returned his attention to the young man on the operating
table and held out his hand saying: “Retractor.”
-
It was dark when we finally got the last
patient despatched to Post-Op, and I was the last out of OR. While I was
looking around to get my bearings, a familiar voice said: “May I walk you home?”
I looked up, found Charles standing just a
few yards away, and smiled. “You mean you’re not going to call a cab for me?”
“Can’t even manage a jeep around here
without signing it out in triplicate,” he said, taking my arm and guiding me
past the mess tent. “I can offer you a half-decent dinner though, if you don’t
mind your chicken coming from a can? Before you ask, my two cretinous tentmates
have adjourned to the Officers’ Club, they’re not likely to be back for some
time.”
“Has to be better than what’s on offer in
there,” I said, jerking my head in the direction of the mess tent, “God, it
smells awful, what the hell is that?”
“I’ve found it’s better not to ask,” said
Charles, holding open the door to the Swamp and ushering me inside. “Here we
are, and I can but apologize for the state of the place. Believe me, I have
asked – repeatedly – to be assigned to separate quarters but…” He threw out his
arms in a gesture of helplessness, before offering me a seat next to a
relatively neat desk that I knew had to be his. Even counting the empty bunk,
it was the tidiest corner of the tent.
“Let me guess,” I said, sitting down and
resting an elbow on the desk, “I know this must be your cot. The Still – that
is a Still, isn’t it? – has to be Captain Pierce’s, yes?”
“Yes, though Hunnicutt is happy to help him
both supply it and drain it.” Charles opened his footlocker and removed several
cans of food, a bottle of wine, and two glasses, which he placed on the desk by
my elbow.
I pointed. “So I’m guessing that’s Pierce’s
corner, and that’s BJ’s, right?”
“Correct. Though I would hazard that the
photo of wife and baby next to Hunnicutt’s bunk gave you a bit of a clue?”
“Well… maybe a teeny hint,” I admitted,
taking a glass of wine from him and gently touching it to the one he was
holding. “To civilization,” I offered.
“I will drink to that,” he said, duly doing
so.
“Charles,” I said, finally getting the
chance to ask him the question that had been burning me for the entire day,
“What the hell are you doing here?”
While we ate, we swapped stories of how we
had each gotten to the 4077th – Charles with his unhappy Colonel, me
with my angry Head Nurse – and filled each other in on what had been happening
with our lives. He’d changed, I realized, in the time since I had last seen
him. I couldn’t quite define it, but it seemed to me that he was… a little more
comfortable perhaps about admitting to having feelings?
“You know, you surprised me in there
today,” I told him, draining the last of my wine and rolling the glass between
my palms.
“Oh?”
“You were a wonderful surgeon back in
Tokyo, but what I saw you do today… it was just amazing. The way you’ve adapted
to the pace here, without compromising your skill – I thought it was really
impressive.”
“Why, thank you.” He gave me one of his
quizzical looks, as though he couldn’t quite figure out whether I was fishing
for some favor or compliment myself. I wasn’t, actually, but he decided, I
guess, to play it safe by replying: “You did pretty well yourself today. I
especially liked the way you reacted to Captain Pierce’s – uh – solo
performance.”
I put down my glass, pulled a face and
stuck my fingers into my ears, making Charles laugh. And I laughed too, for a
moment, until I locked gazes with him, and realized what was happening. Again.
I sobered, and sat back, which made him stop laughing too. “Charles, is this
going to get complicated?” I asked, quietly.
“I don’t see why it should,” he said,
leaning toward me from his seat on the edge of his bunk and gazing at me with
those beautiful baby-blue eyes. He leaned forward and kissed me, and after a
moment I kissed back, moving from the chair onto the bunk beside him so that we
could get our arms around each other. “See,” murmured Charles. He pulled away
momentarily to run his thumb lightly over my lips, “Not complicated at all…”
While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
All works displayed here, whether pictorial or literary, are the property of their owners and not Adult-FanFiction.org. Opinions stated in profiles of users may not reflect the opinions or views of Adult-FanFiction.org or any of its owners, agents, or related entities.
Website Domain ©2002-2017 by Apollo. PHP scripting, CSS style sheets, Database layout & Original artwork ©2005-2017 C. Kennington. Restructured Database & Forum skins ©2007-2017 J. Salva. Images, coding, and any other potentially liftable content may not be used without express written permission from their respective creator(s). Thank you for visiting!
Powered by Fiction Portal 2.0
Modifications © Manta2g, DemonGoddess
Site Owner - Apollo