The Cardmaker and the Caretaker - 19. Chapter 19 Hospital Surprises

div> Michael is fine, so relax.   

Monday morning was both hectic and strangely calm. Their morning run helped disperse the tension, and showering together made them relax before a hurried breakfast with Grethe. Michael wasn’t allowed to eat anything, because he was having blood samples taken at the hospital, so they wanted to finish eating before he got up. Luckily, he slept late, and in fact they had to wake him ten minutes before the taxi picked them up at nine. Just enough for a quick trip to the bathroom to pee and brush his teeth, before getting him into comfortable sweat pants and a soft T-shirt and hoodie.

Peter wrapped Michael up in his duvet and carried him to the waiting taxi, while Grethe followed with his briefcase and her overnight bag. Patrick locked up after setting the alarm and grabbed his own small backpack and Michael’s bag. Mr. Archibald waved to them from his doorstep and Michael insisted on getting an arm free to wave back. Grethe and Patrick had to make do with nodding and smiling. No words were necessary, because Grethe had of course told their neighbour about taking Michael to the hospital for tests.

The trip to GOSH (Great Ormond Street Hospital) went without hitch, in spite of late morning traffic. Patrick paid the driver while Peter and Grethe went inside with Michael. They waited for him in the reception area before taking the lift to the Bear Ward.[1] They were twenty minutes early, but a smiling nurse greeted Peter and showed him into a cosy room, where a bed was waiting for Michael. Grethe and Patrick followed with the bags.

“Dr. Reid will be with you soon, and I’ll call for the lab technician to take the blood samples, so Michael can get some breakfast.” She handed various papers to Grethe and bustled out of the room. Patrick organized their coats and bags by the window at the other end of the room, while Peter settled Michael and Grethe studied the stack of papers.

“Nothing urgent here, we can fill this one out after we’ve talked to the doctor,” she told them and waved a form. Shortly after, a woman came in with a small trolley and got ready to take blood samples. Patrick stayed by the window looking away; he disliked needles and the sight of blood.

She carefully explained what she was doing, pausing to let Peter translate. Michael only gave a small whimper, and she told him he was a brave boy. “Would you like Spiderman or Batman?”

Patrick walked nearer to see Michael proudly displaying a small Spiderman band aid on his hand where she had set up a permanent shunt for taking samples and adding medication. She had told them this was better than sticking needles into his arms several times over the next days.

“Patrick? Is that you? Elizabeth Kern’s son?” The elderly lab technician stared at him in consternation, but he was equally taken aback. He didn’t know her, but apparently she recognized him. He looked at her name tag which said Henderson, no first name. He knew from his mum this was for safety reasons, staff either showed their first name or surname but never both.

“Uhm, yes, that’s me. You knew my mother?” Patrick could hear Peter whispering to Michael, probably explaining what was going on.

“Oh lordy yes, she used to show me pictures of ye, when I bragged about me grandchildren. Everyone here still miss her. She was the best children’s nurse I’ve known in my almost 40 years of hospital work. Uhm, I guess you miss her too, and your father as well, I’m sorry for your loss.” To his chagrin his eyes filled with tears at the gentle pat on his arm and the compassionate words.

“I miss my mum and dad every day, but even more now I have my new family. They would have loved Peter, Michael and Grethe.”

Her eyes went from his left hand which was on the bed rail to Peter’s ditto on the duvet around Michael. Understanding lit up her face, and Patrick was relieved to see a smile.

“You’re married to Michael’s father, now I understand. So that’s why he’s here at GOSH. Just wait till the nurses realize Lizzie’s son is visiting, they’ll want to pay their respects. You should hear the stories they still tell about her ability to help scared or hurting children.”

She patted his arm again and stood up before he had a chance to say they weren’t married yet. “Well, I need to get going, but maybe I’ll see you around. Congratulations to both of you and good luck with Michael.” She nodded at Peter and waved to the boy. “Bye-bye now, Spiderman boy.”

Michael gave her a wide smile back and told his dad ‘Hun var rar’[2] as Ms. Henderson left the room. Peter nodded and Patrick guessed Michael had expressed his approval of the nice lady. Less than five minutes later the first nurse came back.

“Dr. Reid is on his way,” she told Peter, but immediately turned to Patrick. “Is it true? You’re really Lizzie’s Patrick? Yes, I can see the resemblance now.” He had the feeling she’d only returned to ask, which was almost awkward but flattering to the memory of his mum.

He estimated she was around his mother’s age, and this time the name tag ran a bell. “My mum mentioned sharing shifts with a Leonora, who was also a good friend. Is that you?”

She nodded and a tear ran down her cheek. “Yes, we were very good friends. She talked about you quite often; how proud she was of her handsome, clever son, who had the kindest heart in the world. She said you were shy, and she hoped you would find love, someone who’d appreciate you.”

Patrick blushed and swallowed, trying to come up with a reply but failing woefully.

“I know I’m being awfully forward, but I’ll be off for a week after tomorrow, and hopefully Michael will be home before I’m back. So I wanted to say I’m so glad to see Lizzie’s wish come true. She would be over the moon with happiness for you.” A warm feeling pooled in his guts at her casual acceptance of his relationship with Peter. This was the way people should react, seeing the love without caring about gender. It wasn’t surprising Leonora had been good friends with his mum.

Something prompted Patrick to take a step forward and open his arms, and Leonora didn’t hesitate to step into them for a brief hug. “Thank you, it was overwhelmingly kind of you to seek me out and tell me. If it’s not too forward of me, can I give you my business card? I’d love it if you came by the card shop, so we could talk about my mum. I know too few people who want to share their memories of my parents.”

She nodded. “Absolutely, and if you like I can pass the information on to Ms. Henderson and a couple of other nurses who were close to your mum.”

“Please do,” Patrick told her as he gave her a few cards. Just then Dr. Reid entered the room, and all the attention switched back to Michael and Peter. The cardmaker was actually relieved to be able to withdraw to the sofa under the window. He could still hear everything, but he needed to compose himself after the unexpected, emotional conversation. Drinking some water and gazing at the man he loved, helped. Peter would send a look his way every now and then, and Patrick tried to convey his love and support across the room. From Peter’s expression he succeeded quite well.

Dr. Reid examined Michael and Leonora took his temperature and blood pressure while he explained the scanning he wanted done in preparation for surgery. He emphasized the need for Michael to be screened from any risk of getting ill, even a small cold could cause delay. After Grethe and Peter had described the set up at the house and promised there would be no visitors, Dr. Reid said Michael could go home at five and come back Wednesday at three in the afternoon. When the boy was told, he did a small victory jump on the bed.

“Tell him he has to rest and make sure nothing happens to his hand.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on him all the time,” Grethe assured the doctor. “I know what to do to keep the shunt in perfect condition.”

“I must say having an experienced nurse there for him makes this more doable,” Dr. Reid said. “Did I understand right about you being with Michael while he’s here? We have been slightly worried about the language barrier.”

“Peter will be here in the daytime, and I will be here in the evenings and during the night. Peter told me about the sofa in Michael’s room. That way I can be available immediately if needed. I’m more than happy to do general caring, but of course I won’t do any stuff which needs to be carried out by professional staff. After all, I’m not an employee and I have no experience with heart disease.”

Dr. Reid nodded with obvious relief. Grethe was showing she knew the line between helping out and getting too involved in medical matters, even if she was a nurse. “Well, the good news is I think the surgery may be less complicated than first anticipated, so I have hopes for a short hospital stay and a speedy recovery for Michael at home. But we need to see the scans from today to be absolutely sure.”

He got up and after a few more exchanges he left and said he would check in again after lunch. The adults got busy with feeding Michael juice and yogurt, since he couldn’t have any solids until after his scan. He didn’t mind, since he was allowed some ice cream. Around ten, Peter told Patrick if he wanted to leave for his shop, they would be fine.

“They’ll take Michael for his scan any time now and I hope he takes a long nap afterwards. I may come by with some lunch, if he does. Or Grethe can drop by and give you an update.”

“I’ll close the shop at four and go home to get everything ready. You can take a cab from the hospital, right?”

“Yes, that would be fine.” Peter didn’t even try to object to Patrick closing the shop much earlier than usual. And when he and Grethe arrived home with Michael, the boy’s evident joy in having Patrick greet them at the door was all the reward the cardmaker needed.

“Papa, Papa, vi er hjemme.” A quick whisper from Peter and Michael repeated in English. “We are home, Papa.”

The boy held his arms out, and Patrick happily relieved Peter of the slight burden, carrying Michael wrapped in his duvet into the sitting room, while his father and Moster Grethe took off coats and shoes and carried the bags inside. All of them were tired, and Patrick’s suggestion of heating some soup was greeted with grateful nods. After a light meal, Grethe and Michael went to bed, but not until Patrick had read from the dictionary book. Michael insisted on the page with hospital words as he sat cuddled in his Papa’s lap. He liked the word ‘nurse’ which was much easier to pronounce than ‘sygeplejerske’ and they both giggled over the Danish word for bedpan, since ‘bækken’ could also be translated as ‘the brook’ according to Peter.

When they were finally alone, Patrick held Peter in his arms while the Dane had a small breakdown, partly from relief the news from the scan had been good, and partly from worry over the surgery going ahead as scheduled early Thursday morning.

“I know Dr. Reid feels it’s almost routine, but there is always the risk of something going wrong. We could lose him, Patrick.”

“I know, love, but surely Michael’s guardian angel won’t forsake him now. Didn’t Dr. Reid say it was something of a miracle his heart hadn’t deteriorated more, and that it was a good sign for the outcome of the surgery?”

It had been one of the few things Patrick had noted from the talk in the morning. The doctor had also made Patrick happy and proud when he pronounced Michael’s condition to be slightly better than when he’d been examined right after arrival. It was clear he meant the boy’s mental as well as physical health, implying joy in life and the wish to live was as important as bodily care.

“Yes, you’re right, and I’m grateful he’s so positive. The doctors at home were much less hopeful, but they did tell me Dr. Reid was the most experienced surgeon in Europe in relation to this particular heart condition. Anyway, let’s not talk about Thursday, I need a distraction.”

“Yeah, I could also do with a distraction from thinking about my meeting with Fiona tomorrow. Why don’t we go to bed?”

“Not that kind of distraction, although I like the way you think.”

“No, I meant we could relax and talk about other things, or I could give you a massage.”

Patrick managed not to blush when Peter leered at him again, but he was pleased to see his playful Viking emerge.

“By all means, let’s go to bed. I could do with some cuddles from my handsome fiancé. And I won’t turn down the massage offer, either. My legs are a bit sore from our morning run.”

It didn’t take long before they were in bed and Patrick was doing his best to make Peter relax by massaging both his back and legs. They didn’t talk much, apart from the Dane giving small directions ‘Up a bit…yeah, that’s the place…ouch, sore spot’ or voicing his appreciation of the cardmaker’s skills. Patrick enjoyed the chance to touch his lover’s muscular body in a sensual but mostly non-sexual way, and making Peter relax and feel cared for was an additional benefit.

His lover insisted on returning the favour, although Patrick mainly needed his back rubbed. Those strong, warm hands kneading his shoulders were enough to make him sigh with appreciation. “You can do this on a regular schedule, please. It relieves those small knots I get from sitting too long in the same position when I’m absorbed in card making.”

“Trading massages is definitely on my priority list as well, and not just because it makes every part of me but one relax. It’s a good thing we kept our briefs on, or you may have gotten a prostate massage on top.”

“Yes, I want to add that to my repertoire as well, but not every time. I like being able to touch each other with and without sex being involved.”

“Don’t worry, hugs, kisses and cuddles are on my priority list too.” Peter slid down to lie next to Patrick and they indulged in a long make-out session. Before it could turn onto full-on sex, they took a break and Patrick put on his T-shirt to match Peter’s sleep wear.

“I talked with a cleaning company today, and they will find a couple of people who might suit us. I’ve organized for them to call me tomorrow or Wednesday, and if they sound OK, I shall ask them to come around for an interview and a talk about tasks, times and costs. When would it be OK to organize that? We don’t want them here, while Michael is at home, in order to avoid the infection risk, but on the other hand, I’d like them to get started as soon as possible.”

Peter thought about it for a while, before he answered. “You could schedule the interviews for Wednesday after three, if they call in time to organize it then. You don’t have to go with us to the hospital in the afternoon. You can visit in the evening, after we have him settled. And of course we should all be there early Thursday morning before he’s admitted to surgery.”

“I thought you were going to stay the night?”

“Moster and I talked it over, and we decided it was better for me to get a good night’s sleep at home. The general rule is only one parent can stay overnight. Dr. Reid estimated surgery would only take three hours, all included, but then there’s recovery in intensive care. I need to be there for that. If all is well, Michael might even go directly to one of the high dependency beds in Bear Ward, rather than spending the rest of Thursday in Flamingo Ward.”

“I love the way all the wards are named after animals. But he’ll be in Bear Ward over the weekend and could be coming home next week?”

At Peter’s nod and smile Patrick continued. “I’ll try to schedule the interview with the cleaners for Wednesday afternoon, or for the evening after eight. Then I can go with you to the hospital and simply leave a bit earlier. I’ve already specified I want them to allot us cleaning hours on Friday afternoon and Monday lunch time, because the hospital bed I’ve rented will arrive Monday morning. This way everything will be ready if Michael is discharged Tuesday afternoon as we hope.”

“You’ve been very busy today, my love.”

“I also managed to buy a new phone and call my solicitor. He’d like to see us at some point next week, but I told him that depends on how Michael is doing.”

“If he’s fine, there’s no reason we can’t leave him with Moster for a few hours next Thursday.”

“She really is a treasure, Peter. You couldn’t have done this without her. I enjoy having her here as well. The kitchen feels like when my mum was alive.”

“That’s a great compliment.” Peter gave him a kiss and Patrick hugged him back. “By the way, there were two very disappointed nurses and a ditto doctor this afternoon. I had to promise them you’d be there all day Thursday. It’s a good thing none of them were young and handsome, or I might have become jealous.”

“You mean people who knew my mum?” Patrick felt a surge of emotion at the reminder of the surprise encounters at the hospital.

“Yes, that’s right. They were quite eager to meet Lizzie’s son. She must have talked about you a lot, and they seemed to have liked her very much, as well as respecting her nursing skills.”

“I was almost speechless when Ms. Henderson and Leonora praised her so enthusiastically. I had no idea Mum was appreciated this much by her colleagues. No wonder she was constantly asked to increase her hours. She enjoyed working there, even if she was sad about the suffering of the children.” Patrick didn’t want to mention the few times his mum came home and cried because a patient had died. She had needed the support and comfort of both her husband and son on those occasions.

“One nurse told me my mother-in-law had ‘a miraculous touch’ when it came to children in pain.” Peter paused as if expecting a reply, but Patrick had no idea what to say. “I was thinking…do you think your mum may have had a gift too?” Peter continued hesitantly. “Some kind of ability to soothe pain or fear?”

“I’ve never thought about that, and she certainly never told me.” Patrick tried to think back, and one incident from his childhood emerged. “But there was this one time, when I broke my arm. It wasn’t anything complicated, and I was only five years old, so the memory is rather hazy. But I remember falling down and screaming for Mum because my arm was hurting. Once she came and picked me up, everything was OK. I can’t even remember getting a cast, but there are photos of me wearing it.”

“Well, I guess we’ll never know, but if she had a gift, then perhaps it’s hereditary in your family on your mother’s side.”

“Perhaps, but I’m not going to ask any of them. Mum specifically warned me to stay away from her brother, my grandparents are dead, and I’m not in touch with any of my cousins on her side.”

“Fair enough and I guess you should focus on Fiona as the cousin with most potential.”

“Damn, I’d almost forgotten about the meeting tomorrow. Why did you have to remind me?”

“Oops, sorry. Let me see what I can do to make you forget.” Peter got up and walked over to lock the bedroom door. Returning to the bed he shed his clothes, and the effect on Patrick was immediate. He didn’t waste any time, but got rid of his T-shirt and briefs, dumping them at the side of the bed.

When he flicked the duvet aside and showed his naked excitement, which matched the hardness jutting from Peter’s crotch, the Viking attacked. His hands, lips, teeth and tongue explored and teased all the sensitive spots on Patrick’s body. The cardmaker returned every kiss and lick, squeezed nipples and nipped along an inner thigh before sucking on those heavy balls, making Peter moan and beg. When he finally slid his mouth over the almost drooling head and used his hand to massage the hard shaft, Peter pulled at his hips until he straddled his lover’s face.

Patrick was more than willing to indulge in another satisfying sixty-nine, even if it made them fall over the edge shortly after. Afterwards, they lay in each other’s arms sharing the small remains of cum in slow deep kisses. They both agreed they would never tire of this particular type of distraction and sleeping aid.

Sorry about the long break.   to Kitt for editing and to Reader for help with hospital matters.