That evening, Frank arrived at the hospital around seven to find his own father dozed off in the chair in the corner of the room. A small smile appeared on his face as he entered the room, taking a seat in the chair he sat in every time he came to see his son in the hospital. The chair made a squeaking sound as he sat, which woke Henry up. He straightened up in his chair and rubbed his eye.
"It's dark," he commented.
"It's seven pm," Frank deadpanned.
"Oh," Henry replied plainly. "I must've dozed off mid-afternoon. "
Frank didn't respond, watching the rise and fall of Jamie's chest as he breathed on his own. His throat wasn't making that rattling sound anymore, which--according to the doctor--was a good thing. It meant his throat was recovering from the breathing tube, and it also meant that there had been no lasting or serious damage or irritation done to his esophagus. It meant he was one step forward to leaving the hospital. Now, they just had to lighten the sedation and wake him up, which was scheduled for the following afternoon at one.
Frank wished that none of this had happened. Of course, he knew that his sons were putting their lives on the line every day they went in to work, just like the 35,000 other NYPD officers and detectives. He knew that they knew the risk they were taking every time they walked into their respective precincts. That knowledge and understanding didn't make this entire situation any easier. This time it was different. It wasn't just a cop laying in a hospital bed. This time, it was his own son.
A light rain had washed over the city of New York, the soft pitter patter providing background noise in the hospital room. It was better than the monotonous beeping of the heart monitor, which was beginning to give Frank a headache. While the beeping was a good sound, it was annoying, and he was ready to stop hearing it in relation to his son.
"That nurse," Henry started, pausing as he tried to remember her name. He snapped his fingers when it came to him. "Jaycee Langston, said Jamie's vitals and stats have continued to improve. That's good news, son."
He nodded, though it didn't exactly make him feel better. Frank appreciated what his father was trying to do, and it helped, but it didn't change the current situation. Jamie was still unconscious, and he had a long road of recovery ahead of him. They didn't know the full extent of his injuries from the bullet that had passed through his abdomen. For all any of them knew, when Jamie woke up he would be paralyzed. There were still so many unknowns, and Frank didn't like not knowing. All he could do was wait, and it was making him stir-crazy.
"I know, Pop."
___---___
Nurse Langston walked into the room with Dr. Jefferson walking behind her into the room. Just like every other time he entered, he greeted Frank and Henry Reagan with an optimistic smile and an overview of what they were about to do. In this case, it was lightening the sedation so that Jamie could wake up.
"The effects of sedation should begin to wear off in about twenty minutes," Dr. Jefferson explained. "But it could be anywhere between four to six hours before it gets completely flushed out of his system."
"After that," Frank asked.
"Well," Dr. Jefferson continued. "We'll give him some time to be fully aware of what has happened in the last week, then we'll run some tests to check his reflexes to make sure no further damage was caused by the bullets."
"What kind of damage," Henry, this time, asked. Dr. Jefferson's face wavered.
"Paralysis, chronic pain, concussion. We'll want to make sure we know what we need to address before we wean him off of the dosage of painkillers he's currently receiving and discharge him. If we know what to treat, then we can provide a timeline of his recovery. I'm sure he'll want to return to work as soon as possible, but it will be at least a couple of months before we can even entertain that idea," he answered. "All of this is going to be overwhelming, for Jamie and for you--his family. He's going to have to go through physical therapy, and I'll strongly recommend cognitive-behavioral therapy for any psychological trauma he may experience from this. Now, he isn't the first cop I've treated, so I can already say that I'm sure he's not gonna want to do any of those things, which is where you come in. You'll have a better frame of reference than him for making these decisions. He's gonna need your support through his recovery. He may isolate himself and try to downplay any physical or psychological pain he's experiencing, but you can't leave any room for that."
Both Henry and Frank nodded, taking in the information that Dr. Jefferson just poured into them.
"Alright, let's do this," Dr. Jefferson told Nurse Langston, and she nodded as she began to wean Jamie off of the sedation that was pumping through his IV. She then removed the IV that the sedation was running through. Once it was done, Dr. Jefferson turned back to Frank and Henry. "I'll be back in a few hours to see how he's doing. He should be coherent enough by then for me to ask him some of the routine questions."
"Thank you, doctor," Frank said, shaking the man's hand. Dr. Jefferson simply nodded and left the room. Nurse Langston spent a few more minutes in the hospital room checking Jamie's stats and vitals, letting Jamie's dad and grandpa that things were looking very good. After that, she left and went to go find Linda to update her on the status of her brother-in-law.
"See, Francis," he said, moving his seat closer to the foot of Jamie's bed. "It's going to be fine."
Frank looked over at his dad and, for the first time since his son had been shot, smiled. It seemed like they were past the most critical period of time. Now, they had to wait.
