The Castaway Hotel: Book 4

The nurse led us back to a small cubicle with the curtain drawn around it, but she quickly pulled back the cloth divider and allowed us to pass through. Bob and I both caught our breath when we saw Pat. His head wrapped in bandages from the nose up and the doctor was just finishing his handiwork as we entered.

“Which one of you is the boy’s father?” he asked, looking up, so I signaled I was.

“How much damage was done, doctor?” I asked cautiously.

“It’s hard to tell at this early stage,” he informed me, without committing himself. “I suspect he will have some facial scarring and there might be some damage to his vision. He was lucky someone reacted as quickly as they did and used water to dilute or remove the excess acid. It could have been much worse, if that hadn’t happened.”

I wanted to ask more questions, but not with Pat sitting there listening to us. I did plan on talking to the doctor in greater detail later, once I was able to get him alone. He had basically told us as much as I wanted to know for now, so I asked Pat if he could tell us about the accident.

“I was in chemistry lab,” Pat explained, “and the period was almost over. We were cleaning up and putting things away when it happened. I had just taken off my safety goggles and was storing them and some of the beakers we had used in the cabinets below the counter, while the group next to me tried to hurry and finish cleaning up. One of the guys went to set his bottle of sulfuric acid on the shelf above the worktable, but wasn’t careful about what he was doing. He let go of the bottle before it was completely on the shelf, so it fell and smashed on the hard counter top. The acid and glass splattered and hit my face, just as I was beginning to stand up. I guess I must have screamed out in pain, because the teacher came running over to see what was going on. He quickly pulled me to the sink, flipped down the eyewash thing and made me stick my face into it. The water began to rinse the acid off, which made it so it didn’t burn so badly. While he was doing that, he told one of the other students to go to the office and have someone call for an ambulance.”

At this point, I just stood there stunned and unsure about what to do or say. After remaining like a statue for a few awkward moments, I bent down and kissed Pat’s forehead, through the bandages, and whispered into his ear.

“You’ll be fine, son, and we’ll do whatever it takes to help you.” I hoped that might comfort him and remind him about all the support he would have.

“I know,” he responded, somewhat hoarsely, “but I’m still scared.”

“I understand and I’m a little scared too,” I explained, “but we must put our faith in God right now and let the man upstairs do the worrying and find the answers for us.

“You know, this is kind of ironic,” Pat stated dryly. “When I first came to live with you, I was sort of blind and couldn’t see the good in other people. I let what they looked like or who they liked cloud how I saw them, but then you made me see how wrong that was. It seems strange that now I can see others clearly again, I might really be blind and I don’t know if I can handle that.”

“Shush, baby,” I urged him. “This is not the time for negative thoughts and it’s too early to assume the worst. With God’s help, we’re going to get you through this crisis.”

What I really wanted to do was discuss how we’d help him adjust to being blind, if that were the case, but I knew this was not the time or the place for such thoughts. Instead, I told Pat this. “We’ll deal with things as they arise, consider our options as we are presented with them and then choose what we think is the best course of action. For now, we will go on the assumption that you will still be able to see and that very little will change.”

Hearing this, Pat squeezed my hand with both of his, clutched it to his chest and placed it over his heart, before he informed me, “I’ll try to as brave as you are.”

If only he knew the truth! I was probably just as scared as he was about the outcome, but I also realized that if he knew it, he might not be as brave himself. I couldn’t let that happen, so I tried to remain as calm as I could.

Looking back, I realized his simple comment probably took all the courage he could muster. His mind had to be running rampant over the various scenarios concerning the possibility he was going to be blind, so just being able to think logically and unemotionally was more than any of the rest of us might have been able to do.

Once I regained my wits, I asked the doctor when Pat would be able to be discharged and he told me he would probably allow Pat to go home shortly. Before doing that, however, the doctor wanted to go over the procedure for caring for his injuries until his next visit, as the bandages would have to be changed and the wounds cleaned, in order to lower the chance of infection setting in. He stated that once all of those things had been completed, he would then let me go out and pull the car up to the emergency entrance, where I would be able to pick up my son.

I left Bob to comfort Pat while I was gone, since I didn’t think it would be wise to leave Pat alone just yet. Before I left, however, I let my son know I would be going off with the doctor so he could show me what I would need to do for him once he was discharged. Pat told me to go ahead and he’d be fine, so I left and followed Pat’s physician to another area of the emergency wing. A few seconds later, we entered an adjacent room and the doctor began searching through some cabinets there. A short time later, he handed me some sample tubes of salve and quickly wrote out a couple of prescriptions.

The first prescription he handed me was for painkillers, to help control whatever discomfort Pat might still experience from the acid burns. Next, the physician gave me a prescription for the same ointment that was in the sample tubes, which I could have filled once they had been used up. He told me the gel would not only prevent infection, but would also help reduce the amount of scarring Pat would have to live with. After that, he showed me how to wrap Pat’s head with bandages, to help protect the skin and give it time to heal, before finally giving me instructions about what Pat could or could not do and explaining how I should deal with Pat’s future concerns. Once he finished all of this, I asked him what the chances were that Pat would be permanently blind.

“It is really hard to say at this point, since it was difficult for me to tell how much of the acid got into his eyes and how much of it had been stopped by his eyelids. I could see some damage was done to his cornea, but that is most likely correctable, at least according to the ophthalmologist we had look at him before I bandaged his eyes. I will have one of the intake clerks set up appointments for him, both at my office and with the ophthalmologist, so we can keep on top of things. I also removed a few glass splinters from his cheek and forehead, but fortunately didn’t discover any glass fragments in his eyes.”

He must have looked at me and noticed the concerned look on my face, so he tried to reassure me some more. “Don’t worry, we’ll let you know what his prognosis is as soon as we can. In the meantime, take your son home and treat him as normally as possible.”

I thanked him again and then went out to find a phone, so I could call my secretary and let her know what was going on. I quickly told her what I knew, advised her I would be taking a few days off from work and explained I would keep her updated from time to time. She thanked me for calling, assured me that she’d take care of everything and then said good-bye. After I finished speaking to her, I went out to retrieve the van, so I could take Pat home.

I pulled up in front of the emergency entrance and put the van in park, before going to get Pat. When I returned to his treatment cubicle, he was still sitting on the examination table, so I helped get him down and into the wheelchair someone had left there, so we could leave. In order to do that, I had to explain everything to him as we went. I first told him how much of a drop there was before he’d reach the floor, exactly where the wheelchair was, once he was down, and what we were going to do next. After all of that had been accomplished, I wheeled him to the van.

Once we were beside the vehicle, I explained to him how to find the door handle to the passenger door, so he could open it for himself. I then told him how far away he was, when to step up and advised him if I noticed anything else amiss as he started to get in, such as if it looked as if he might bump his head or bang his knee. I didn’t want him to start off feeling helpless or useless, if I pampered him and did everything for him, nor was I going to let him wallow in self-pity. He would still have to do most things for himself, because none of us would be around every time he needed something. Before we pulled away, I also made him buckle his seatbelt, since I didn’t want anything else to happen to him during the ride home.

When we reached the house, I saw all of his brothers come running out to greet us, so I immediately jumped out of the driver’s seat and waved them back, letting them know we’d meet and talk to them inside. While I was doing that, Pat undid his seatbelt, carefully slid his legs out the door and dropped to the ground, before shutting the door behind him. Once he had completed all of that, I had him grab my elbow and walk beside me, as I led him toward the house. I would warn him if there was uneven ground or when we came to a step up, and he did quite well for his first time.

The other boys didn’t quite do as I asked and were still clustered outside the front door. As we approached, I saw many open mouths gawking at us, so I assumed it was due to the fact they hadn’t noticed Pat’s bandaged head before he got out of the van. I was sure they had all heard about his accident in the lab, but I guess they hadn’t expected to see him bandaged this way or anticipated his injuries might be so severe. Before we got closer, I held up my left hand to stop their comments and then spoke to Pat, to let him know what was happening.

“Hey, Pat, all of your brothers have come outside to greet you,” I explained. “It looks as if they are worried about you too.”

Pat lifted his head up, so he faced in the direction he thought his brothers were, and spoke. “Hi bros and thanks for coming out to see me, but I’m okay. The doctor says I’ll have to be bandaged like this for a few days, but don’t worry, everything will be fine. This is just so I won’t get an infection or anything.”

The other boys looked at me, to see if what Pat was saying was true, so I merely nodded my head in agreement, figuring I’d give them more details later. As we went inside, I asked Pat what he would like to do until dinnertime and he responded that he’d like to listen to his music. I told him that would be fine and then led him into the living room, where I guided him to a chair. Once he was seated, I asked for a volunteer to run to Pat’s room and get his personal CD player and a few of his CD’s. Dustin took off to do this for me, and after he came back, I taught Pat how to change his CDs, without being able to rely on seeing what he was doing. I then made sure to point out how his CD’s were arranged, which side was top or bottom and then let him practice changing them a couple of times, while I stayed there and watched. Before long he was content sitting by himself, listening to his music. I imagined he was also using this time to do some thinking about his situation and assessing what his life was going to be like from this day forward.

While Pat was listening to his music, I took the rest of the boys into the family room and filled them in concerning the information I had. After I finished, they eagerly told me what they had heard before they left school. It seems as though the rumor mill had been working overtime, passing around varying reports about what had happened to him. The boys had heard numerous stories, which included an accident in the lab, a fight in the lab, Pat falling down a flight of stairs and someone throwing a glass jar at him. I quickly corrected all of the misconceptions and answered each of the questions the boys asked. I explained how Pat would need their help and support, but emphasized I didn’t want them doing everything for him. I told them Pat still needed to feel useful and I didn’t want him treated like an invalid. They seemed to understand, so I left it at that.

When dinner was ready, I guided Pat out to the table and had him sit in the chair next to mine. I had given him one of our heavy-duty glasses, just in case he knocked it over it wouldn’t break as easily, but I didn’t want to make any drastic changes to his tableware and make him think he was different now. He was still our Pat, but he would need to learn to cope with whatever changes resulted from his injury.

Patiently, I explained to him where everything was, meaning his silverware, plate, napkin, salad and drink, and then I told him what I was putting on his plate and where it was located. I did this by getting him to think of his plate as being divided into quarters, but he would have to remember which items had been placed in each section. I then let him start trying to eat on his own, knowing it would be awkward for him to do so at first.

He did have some problems early and began to get frustrated, but I whispered a few encouraging words to him every now and then, so he kept going. He nearly knocked over his glass a couple of times, but only spilled some of its contents once. I wiped it up quickly and didn’t make any comment about it to him, since I didn’t want to make him feel badly. I think a couple of the boys were ready to say something about it, but a quick glance from me ended that thought on their part.

When dinner ended, the boys cleaned up while I took Pat into the other room to discuss a few things. First, I explained he would be staying home with me for a few days, until after he went to his next doctors’ appointment, and then I asked him what he wanted to do about sleeping arrangements tonight, since I felt he should be the one to make that decision. After thinking about it for a few seconds, he asked if he could sleep with me for those few days. He said he knew he would need help going back and forth to the toilet during the night and maybe with other things, so he would feel better if I were there to assist him. Besides, he said he wasn’t ready to tackle the stairs quite yet, especially all the way to the attic.

I agreed with his logic and told him it would be fine if he slept with me for the time being. I also informed him I’d be happy to do whatever I could to assist him, but I would expect him to help himself as much as possible. He said he understood and then thanked me for being here for him. He hugged me and put his head on my shoulder for a minute or so, and then pulled back slightly, so he could tell me everything was going to be fine. Here he was, the injured one, assuring me that things would be all right.

For the rest of the evening, the other boys helped to occupy Pat’s attention, asking him questions about the accident and doing things with him. I think, up until the accident, no one ever gave much thought about how dependent they were on their vision, but now they were beginning to realize they couldn’t even play cards or enjoy any of the other games with Pat, because he wouldn’t be able to see or appreciate what was going on. This really stumped them for a while, until Ricky made a suggestion.

“You know, when I first came here, Dad used to read to me every night before I went to bed. It was great and I was wondering if maybe you’d like it if one of us read to you.”

“That’s right,” Danny added. “When I first got here they were already into a book, so they caught me up on what I had missed, before going on with the story. Ricky and I used to look forward to that time every night. I think it’s a great idea.”

“Yeah,” Pat answered, “it does sound interesting, but I don’t know what story I’d want to hear.”

“Trust me,” Ricky explained, before he rushed off to find me, “I know the perfect one.”

Excitedly, Ricky raced into my office and asked to borrow the ‘Lord of the Rings’ trilogy, so I happily went and got all three books for him. Before long he was sitting with Pat and some of the others, reading to all of them about some hairy little creature called a Hobbit. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the story and I think Ricky was getting a kick out of being the one who was doing the reading this time around. They went on like this until it was nearly bedtime, and I don’t know how many chapters they actually read, but they were all talking about the story when I came by to send them off to hit the showers. Pat stayed there with me, while his brothers climbed the stairs.

“Dad, how can I shower like this?” he wanted to know.

“Well, you won’t be able to take a shower for a while, because you can’t get those bandages wet. However, you can still take a bath, as long as you’re careful. I’ll draw the water in the tub downstairs and then I’ll help you get started. Would that be all right with you?”

“Yeah, I guess so, but what about the boys who use the downstairs bathroom?”

“I’ll let them use my shower for as long as we need you to use the tub,” I explained. “That should take care of everything.”

Pat turned his head in my direction, even though he was a little off target. “Okay, I guess that will be all right, if it’s okay with the other guys. Thanks, Dad. You sure do think of everything.”

“I try,” was all I responded.

Now that our discussion had ended, I guided Pat to the downstairs bathroom, had him sit on the toilet and undress, while I filled the tub for him. I didn’t put a great deal of water in it, just to be safe. I felt if he slid in the tub, it would be easier for him to keep the bandages dry if the water level were low. That would make it easier for him to keep his head above water, even if he were flat on his back.

When everything was ready, I helped him get into the tub and sit down, gave him a washcloth and the soap, and then told him to go ahead and clean up. I explained I would be leaving for a short time, so I could do some other things, but he could call out if he needed anything.

“Wait, I can’t do this by myself,” he argued. “I thought you were going to stay and help me.”

“Pat, you don’t need my help,” I assured him. “You can wash yourself without having to see anything. Just put the soap where you can find it again and you’ll do fine. Just give a try, and if you still need help later, I’ll give you a hand when I return. Okay?”

“I guess I don’t have a choice, do I?” he whined, as he began to sulk. He did begin to wash himself, although not very enthusiastically, so I made my way out of the room.

I did leave the bathroom, just in case he was listening for my footsteps, but quietly crept back and stood in the open doorway. Silently, I watched his progress, but I had to restrain myself from rushing in there and doing it for him. I merely wanted to be in the vicinity in case anything went wrong.

It was a little awkward for him at first, especially when he accidentally dropped the soap and had to try to find it again, but before long he finished cleaning himself completely and called out when he was done. I hesitated a moment before I went back in, since I didn’t want him to know I had been watching him the whole time. Eventually, I walked inside and let him know I was back. After he told me he was done, I helped him stand up, get out of the tub and then I handed him a towel to dry himself off, as he stood on the small throw-rug.

“Aren’t you going to help me at all?” he asked, as he took the towel from me.

“Sure, when you really need my help,” I explained, “but I think you should be able to do this on your own. Dry off your head and upper body first, and then I’ll help you sit on the toilet lid so you can dry your legs and feet.”

He made a funny expression with his face, I think to let me know he didn’t fully agree with my methods, but did as I suggested. Once he’d finished mopping up the excess water from his body, I asked if he wanted anything to sleep in tonight, since he’d be sleeping in with me. He just laughed and said that wouldn’t be necessary.

We did stay up a while longer, once the other boys came back from taking their showers, and we all sat around and talked until bedtime. After a short time, I suggested it was time to turn in, since the rest of the boys still had school tomorrow, even though Pat and I would be staying home. Pat chuckled and announced, “This might not turn out so bad after all.”

The others looked startled for a moment, mildly surprised by Pat’s comment, but then they began to joke around with him about his current situation. Someone told him how lucky he was that he didn’t have to go to school for a while, while another voice questioned what extent some people would go to get out of having to attend classes. It was all taken in the spirit it was offered and the boys had a good time teasing each other, but I finally got them to go to their rooms so they could get some shuteye. Once they had disappeared, Pat suggested he was ready for bed too.

I led him into my room, guided him to his side of the bed, pulled the covers back and let him get in. He slid into place, pulled the sheet and blanket up over himself and then asked if I was coming to bed too. I thought about it briefly and decided I might as well, as he didn’t seem to want to be alone. He might even wish to talk more about things, as he attempted to cope with his current situation. Therefore, I told him I was going to turn in also, after I checked the house one final time. Once I returned, I undressed and slid into bed beside him.

We just laid there for a few minutes, listening to each other breathe, before Pat spoke to me. “Thank you for what you did earlier,” he began. “Although I was upset because you weren’t going to help me, it was good that I learned I’m still able to do most things for myself. In the emergency room, when I was thinking about what it was going to be like for me now, I was mostly worried that I was going to have to depend on someone else to take care of me and wouldn’t be able to do anything on my own again.”

“Pat, we don’t know what kind of long term effects this accident will have on you, but there’s no reason you can’t still be self-sufficient,” I informed him. “You may require some assistance, but I think you should be able to mostly get by without any outside interference. You’ll just have to adjust to doing things a little differently and the rest of us will help you learn whatever it is that you’ll need to know.”

Pat hesitated a moment, before he continued. “And were you responsible for Ricky’s idea to read to me too?”

“Probably, but not in the way you’re thinking,” I replied. “I think he got the idea from when I used to read to him, after he first came here to live, but I said nothing to him about doing it for you. He came up with the idea on his own and I think it was something he really wanted to do for you.”

“And you didn’t make any suggestions about any of them doing anything like that?” he pressed.

“Not a word,” I admitted.

I could see a small smile form on Pat’s lips and then he gently nodded his head up and down. “Wow, I really thought it was all your idea,” he stated. “I didn’t think Ricky would think of doing that on his own. I mean, Ricky and I have never been as close as I am with some of the others, so I was just surprised he was the one who suggested it.”

“You two may not be real close,” I agreed, “but you’re still his brother and he does love you. Ricky is a very caring and thoughtful young man – it’s just that he sometimes gets wrapped up in his own life and playing the clown. I will tell you one thing, however, and that is whenever you need someone to help out or someone you can count on, Ricky’s your man.”

“Yeah, I think I know that now,” Pat agreed.

We talked a little while longer and discussed some other topics before we decided to call it a night. Just as I was starting to doze off, I felt Pat move a little closer to me, so our bodies were barely touching. I think he did this as a way of reassuring himself I was still there during the night and that he was not alone.