MYSTERY OF THE TEXAS TWOSTEP

CHAPTER SEVENTY TWO:

ORDEAL

Written by Rick Archer 

LIMBO MONTH twelve
SATURDAY AFTERNOON, MAY 31, 1980

SPEECHLESS

I was admitted to the hospital around noon on Saturday, May 31.  During surgery, they sliced my throat open to drain the infected pus, then put me on massive antibiotics.  When I awoke, I was in the Intensive Care Unit with an uncomfortable ventilator tube stuck down my throat.  The nurse explained it was there to help me breathe.  Hmm, maybe so, but it also rendered me speechless. 

Unfortunately the breathing tube was not my only worry.  My stay took much longer than expected because the doctor had fits finding the right antibiotic to kill my infection.  He changed my antibiotic three times looking for an answer.  I was pretty worried for a while there.  Thank goodness the doctor eventually found the right medicine to lick the problem. 

However, I was miserable the whole time.  Due to constant interruptions, I never got more than two hours of sleep at a time.  In particular, I was supremely irritated at being awakened every morning at 4 am for vital signs.  Now I couldn't get back to sleep.  How do people ever get better in a hospital? 

NURSE RATCHED

There was no TV in the ICU.  I probably read more books in one week than I did in ten years.  Otherwise I would have died of boredom.  Meanwhile this tube was driving me crazy.  It was maddening not to be able to speak, especially since I knew I could breathe just fine on my own.  Despite my frequent requests, they refused to remove that tube from my throat.  They said it was a 'necessary precaution'. 

That was not my only problem.  My urinary tract had shut down.  Apparently this was a warning sign after surgery.  The weird part is I felt no urgency to pee.  Not that I cared.  I figured that when my body was ready, I would get the message and visit the restroom.  This became a real problem because I had a hard-headed ICU nurse who claimed I needed to pee whether I felt like it or not.  She insisted I allow her to stick a urinary catheter tube up my penis to drain urine.  I had no idea what this procedure involved, but it sounded pretty awful.  However, with this damn tube in my throat, my ability to argue with Nurse Ratched was reduced to scribbling on a note pad.  Using frantic hand-written notes filled with copious exclamation marks, I made it clear I was not in favor of that tactic. 

FORGET IT!!!!   DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!!!!!!   NO WAY!!!!!!' 

As the Reader may have guessed, I borrowed the name 'Nurse Ratched' from the tyrannical nurse in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.  I argued with my nemesis about this issue non-stop for two days.  She claimed this was her duty.  According to her, it is not safe to go without peeing for more than 6 to 7 hours.  Beyond that, she said, it is considered a medical emergency.  She claimed she had no choice in the matter, so I needed to submit.  The thing is, I was not in any pain or discomfort, so I had a better idea.  Why don't you leave me alone?  No such luck.  On Monday, the third day, Nurse Ratched was very ugly about it.  Losing patience, she uttered something like "You better cooperate or expect to have strong men hold you down while I stick this thing up your penis." 

Judging by Nurse Ratched's frustration over my continued resistance, I feared she was serious.  Considering how helpless I felt, the thought she might use force was pretty scary.  There was no one to appeal to.  As the ICU Head Nurse, Ratched was determined to see me surrender.  Unable to speak, I resorted to writing my protest.  They say the pen is mightier than the sword, but I beg to differ.  Nurse Ratched clearly had the upper hand.  Nor was she the diplomatic type.  She seemed to enjoy using the threat of force to scare me to death.  I managed to fend her off on Sunday and Monday, but now I was facing a deadline.  If I failed to urinate during the night, force would be used when she returned to work on Tuesday morning.  And she meant it. 

I spent Monday night drinking water non-stop.  Not an easy task considered that tube.  But where there's a will, there's a way.  I achieved breakthrough in just nick of time.  No doubt my intense fear had something to do with it.  To my surprise, when Ratched appeared, she insisted I do it again.  We must have argued for a good ten minutes on Tuesday morning.  I half-expected her to insist on watching me pee, but gratefully something more important came up to pull her away.  I drank some water and managed to pee again before she returned.

The ability to pee was no longer an issue, but my problems were not over.  For whatever reason, they could not identify the right antibiotic to kill the infection.  It took them seven days to solve the problem.  I was forced to ingest a countless number of pills, most of which did no good.  Meanwhile I could not get a bit of sleep.  Every four hours some nurse would wake me up.  That aggravated me no end.  How am I supposed to heal when I can't sleep?  I was also convinced that the drugs I was forced to ingest did horrible things to my body as well as my mood.  Each day my irritability increased.  My bitterness at the way this Nazi woman had threatened me was over the top.  I was not in any particular pain, but mentally I was terribly shaken from being at the mercy of this awful human being.  

TUESDAY MORNING, JUNE 3, 1980

JUST WHEN THINGS CAN'T GET WORSE
 

Victoria's last words on Saturday had been, "Yes, Rick, don't worry, I'll take care of it as best I can."

Once I hung up, I had no idea how things turned out.  I had no TV.  No telephone either.  This was the ICU.  Luxuries we have come to expect were not available.  I could move around if I wished, but I had to take my mobile drug tree with me.  So you say, "Hey, Rick, pick up a phone!"  Aren't you forgetting something?  It was not like I could call and ask.  I had no voice!  So I just laid there day in and day out cursing my helplessness.  Thank goodness for the books.  Otherwise I would have gone out of my mind. 

On Tuesday morning Victoria walked into the ICU for a visit.  There was no warning.  She just walked over and woke me up.  Her daughter Stephanie had Mother's Day Out on Tuesday and Friday.  I assumed that explained her visit. 

The moment Victoria saw how pathetic I was, she started to cry.  After her tears finally passed, I almost died when Victoria started to tell me how much she missed me.  Then she began to talk about 'our relationship'.  What relationship?  I was sick to my stomach.  Please leave me alone to suffer in peace.  But I could not say a word with this tube down my throat, so Victoria actually thought she was cheering me up.  Unbelievable.  She told me how she was going to be a better girlfriend when I left the hospital, about how she had plans for me, how well her therapy was going, how she missed going dancing with me, how she was starting to think I was the right guy for her after all, and this and that and the other thing. 

She did not say a word about the studio.  What gives with this woman?  Did it not dawn on her that I needed to know the studio was okay?  To be honest, I did not want her here, so I was afraid to pull out my notepad and ask questions.  Instead I telepathically begged her to leave.  It did no good.  Victoria just went on and on about how things would be so much better between us when I got back on my feet.  Talking for half an hour, I had to lay there and listen to it.  I was absolutely livid at my inability to speak up.  Back in January when I nobly accepted my duty as Victoria's 'Glorified Escort', I had figured two months, three months tops.  Then her therapist Charlotte came along.  Victoria continued to insist Charlotte wanted me to stick around to support her recovery. 

I had reluctantly agreed to prolong our arrangement, but after five months, this was getting old fast.  By cutting herself off from the Western Era, Victoria had inadvertently created a long-distance relationship.  Over the past few months, I had been busy with the hectic TGIS classes.  Meanwhile she had been busy with her therapy and inward journey.  Victoria was down to one Disco class a week, so I rarely saw her.  Car talk was usually brief.  Coffee Shop talk was a thing of the past.  Her phone calls were less frequent and shorter in duration.  By remaining as boring as humanly possible for the past five months, I believed I was on the verge of hypnotically inducing Victoria to lose interest in me. 

"You're getting sleepy, little Snarling Tiger Kitty, you're getting sleepy... go to sleep now and try to forget about me." 

Now I gotten sick and ruined everything.  Just when I thought I was almost rid of her, Victoria was suddenly interested in me again.  Life is not fair!  Damn it.  If I was to believe what Victoria was telling me here in the ICU, I was facing a life sentence.  I nearly had a heart attack.  I am never going to get rid of her!  There's an old joke... "Why do men die before women?  Because they want to." 

I was not wired to be Victoria's property for the rest of my life.  At this moment I had at least a dozen women batting their eyelashes at me.  Just the other night I danced with Taylor, the older woman I had met at TGIS back in March.  She was taking my class and had sought me out at Cowboy.  When Taylor smiled at me out the dance floor, I could have sworn she was interested.  All I had to do was act.  But, no, I was a good boy.  As I drove home that night, I told myself to wait just a little longer.  Victoria barely knows I exist; freedom could come any day now. 

That was then, this was now.  All that sacrifice down the drain.  "I miss you, I love you, I want you to get better!"   More tears, more sympathy.  If I did not know better, Victoria might actually be serious about renewing our bond.  The moment this woman starts talking about living together again, I really will go crazy.  Oh please, Lord, get her out of here before I lose my mind!!

Shortly before she had to go, Victoria finally brought up the studio.  From what she said, things had gone okay last night.  She said Bob Job did a great job of filling in for.  In fact, he was so good, no one missed me.  Gee, thanks a lot.  I realized Victoria had done me a huge favor.  Considering the bind I was in, I was fortunate she came to my rescue.  However, the damage was done.  After she left, I was depressed out of my mind.  It irked me no end that Victoria was unwilling to set me free. 

FRIDAY MORNING, JUNE 6, 1980

VICTORIA RETURNS
 

It was Friday, June 6.   Much to my consternation, Victoria visited me again.  She was bubbling over with enthusiasm.  She could not wait to tell me something wonderful.  You will not believe what she said. 

"Hey, Rick, guess what?  This country-western stuff isn't nearly as bad as I thought it was!  I have taught a class on my own every night.  Now I'm ready to become one of your Western teachers!"

I groaned.  As if I wasn't suffering enough.

Given that Victoria did not have a clue what she was doing, I assumed this small technicality would have stopped an ordinary person.  But who ever said Victoria was ordinary? 

Frowning, I scribbled on a notepad, "What was your secret?"

"Oh, it wasn't that hard.  I started each class with the same line.  'Hey, everybody, Rick's in the hospital and I don't know what I am doing.  So I am going to let you all show me what you did last week and then you can teach me how to do it.  Then I will play lots of music and we can practice our dancing.'"

Wasn't that a great idea?  I let them teach the teacher."

Teach the teacher?  Now that's a switch.  While Bob or Judy covered classes in one room, Victoria took charge of the other room for five straight nights.  Not bad for someone who had no idea what she was doing.  From what I gathered, Victoria's long-lost Sunshine personality had magically returned.  They loved her.  The students liked Victoria so much they didn't give her a bit of trouble.  Victoria played lots of music and that was fine by them.  They needed the practice. 

So now we know how Victoria ended up learning how to teach Country-Western.  Victoria went on and on about all the fun she was having conducting Western classes at the studio.  Teaching every night had been wonderful for Victoria's mood.  Coming to my rescue had been the most exciting thing in ages.  She loved the rebirth of her popularity.  The attention, the laughter, the friendship, the applause and joy of teaching had served as a special tonic to her low spirits.  Victoria snapped out of a long tailspin and began to cheer up for the first time all year.  I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.  I could not move.  I could not speak.  I had set up Country Western as my exit strategy and now Victoria had just decided to come along for the ride.  I never felt more trapped in my life.

I cringed as Victoria returned to the subject of how much she missed me.  Memories of the early days of our Disco partnership had come flooding back to her.  Those had been happy times.  The nostalgia made her recall all the fun we had building the studio and hanging out at Camelot.  As waves of fondness swept over her, Victoria announced she could not wait for me join her back at the studio.   As a wave of the old fondness swept over her, Victoria announced for the second time she could not wait to begin teaching Western on a regular basis. 

"Gosh, Rick, this way I will get to see you more often!"

I cringed at her words.  Oh my god, just shoot me!  Sleeping Kitty had awakened and there was nothing I could do about it.  With this damn tube shoved down my throat, it wasn't like I could set her straight.  So I just laid there staring in horror as she gushed on and on with enthusiasm.   As Victoria kissed my cheek goodbye, I seethed with anger.  She was so oblivious, she never even noticed. 

I dreaded the thought of seeing Victoria more often.  Victoria had no idea that the less I saw of her, the happier I was.  In fact, the moment she left the room, something inside of me snapped.  When I get out of this wretched place, it was time for action.  I fully intended to put a swift end to Victoria's shackles.  This passive, patient, be kind to Victoria approach was not working.  I was horny, I was lonely, I was in a lot of pain, and I had lost all patience for this ridiculous Boyfriend-Girlfriend Charade. 

Sad to say, Victoria was so lost in her own reverie, she never knew how upset I was.  Now that Victoria had regained her footing, the time had come to tell her to get lost.