Chapter Fifty-Three
"What is it?" Tony asked. "What's wrong with Lucky?"
Kevin noted Tony's emotional tension and led him down the hallway to a quiet sitting area. Tony sat down carefully in a chair, obviously still in shock over recent events. Kevin joined him and put his feet up on the small table in front of him. He leaned his head back and sighed, rubbing his forehead tiredly. "Tony, I have some concerns," he stated. "Lucky is recently out of surgery, so I'd like to delay making a diagnosis until I can examine him again in the morning when the anesthetic is completely out of his system."
"But what's on your mind?" Tony asked. "I want to know."
Kevin's warm brown eyes met Tony's intense green ones. Kevin looked down at the table. He picked up an old Parents magazine, then slapped it back down on the table. "From your description of recent events, Lucky's behavior after cutting his wrist, the words that he spoke, I believe that he was psychotic at that moment in time, experiencing a profound separation from reality. Tony, right now, he's showing at least five signs of catatonia."
Tony looked confused. "I thought he was depressed. Aren't schizophrenics catatonic?"
Kevin rubbed the bridge of his nose and hesitated, aware that Tony was upset. "Yes, catatonia is most often associated with schizophrenia." Noticing the look of alarm in Tony's face, he quickly added, "But, Lucky is not presenting as schizophrenic. He's suffering from depression, unfortunately one that seems to be resistant to current drug regimes. Patients with severe affective disorders, like depression, can sometimes become catatonic. I suspect that his worsening depression, coupled with the series of emotional shocks that he had recently, have sent him into a catatonic state. As I said, I want to examine him tomorrow before I make a definitive diagnosis."
"What the hell are we going to do now?" yelled Tony. "Are we just going to let him lay there and rot away in that bed? We've been pumping him full of drugs for months and nothing works?"
"Tony, hold off on jumping to conclusions. Let's not buy trouble," said Kevin.
"I just want to know what I'm dealing with here," Tony retorted, crossing his arms and burrowing down into his chair.
Kevin got up and stretched. "Tony, I'm going home. I'll be back here tomorrow at 9:00AM. You should go home and rest as well. I'll make a diagnosis tomorrow, and we'll sit down and discuss a treatment plan in detail. Lucky needs to recuperate after his surgery. We'll hope for the best tomorrow, okay?" Kevin clapped Tony on the back and shook his hand. "We'll take care of our boy. Don't worry."
"Hey there, Dr. Jones."
Kevin turned around with a grateful look on his face at the sight of Bobbie. Kevin nodded to Tony. "I'll see you tomorrow at nine?" Tony nodded. "Okay, then good night and Merry Christmas." Bobbie watched as Kevin walked away.
"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" Bobbie asked. "It took me forever to find you."
Tony looked up at Bobbie. "I am SO glad to see you," he smiled weakly. He opened his arms, and Bobbie nestled into them.
~*~*~*~
Bobbie wiped her tears from her eyes, and tucked a stray wisp of red hair behind an ear. She was holding Tony's hand, and the two sat in silence for several minutes.
"This is so hard to process," said Bobbie. "Lucky was just home with us, playing with Lucas. Where's my happy nephew, the one that I remember growing up?" A few more tears fell from her eyes, and she sought out a tissue in her purse, settling for the back of her hand when she couldn't find one.
Tony leaned forward and thumped a hand on his red suited knee. "I always recall him being thirteen years old, a gawky teenager upset because his older brother suddenly appeared in his life. Back then, it seemed like a hug and a kind word did miracles." Tony shook his head and stared off at the wall.
Bobbie took in a deep breath and squeezed
Tony's hand. "I think we should go home and get some sleep," she said.
"Lucky will need us to be on top of things in the morning. Come on." Bobbie
stood up and pulled at Tony's hand. Tony rose slowly and placed a kiss on top of Bobbie's
head.
~*~*~*~
Tony arranged the blankets and snuggled up behind Bobbie. He wrapped his arms around her and moved in closer until the two were lying spooned together, front to back. "Merry Christmas, Angel," he whispered in her ear. Bobbie's eyes were closed, but she smiled and replied sleepily, "You, too, Santa Claus."
~*~*~*~
Christmas Day, 7:00 AM
Felicia opened up the front door. "Bobbie," she cried, hugging her friend. "Merry Christmas! And you, too, Tony," she added brightly as Tony entered the doorway behind Bobbie. "Mom! Dad!" Lucas shouted as he dropped his spoon in his cereal bowl and ran over to hug and greet his parents. Mac put his coffee down and walked over to shake Tony's hand. "How's it going?" he asked politely. Tony nodded. "Fine."
"Hey, Lucas! How's my son?" Tony smiled and laughed as he hugged Lucas tightly. "Santa Claus left some toys at our house, and they have your name on them, so guess what? I brought them over."
"Oh boy," Lucas exclaimed excitedly as he hopped up and down.
Georgie leaned over the breakfast table to whisper to Maxie. "He's so spastic, Maxie. He's always wound up tight."
Maxie giggled. "Lucas is a lot of fun, but he wears me out. Maybe he'll get some toys to keep him busy."
Georgie was on a roll. "Look at him with those presents. He's like a little terrier dog."
Maxie shook her head. "Shhh, Georgie. You're so mean. Leave him alone."
Georgie resumed eating her cereal. "I'm glad we do presents on Christmas Eve," she said with her mouth full of cereal and milk. "Otherwise, Lucas would rip all of ours open, too."
Maxie smirked. "Oh, yeah, Georgie. Like he'd really want your Barbie dolls." Georgie made a face at her older sister and shrugged.
Lucas was a nine-year-old paper shredder, ripping open presents and crying out with delight upon seeing the contents. After about ten minutes, he had all of the paper in a pile and the presents lined up in a corner. "Thanks, Mom and Dad," he grinned. He looked seriously at Tony. "I know there's no Santa Claus now. I asked Mom about it, and she told me the whole story."
Tony laughed. "Well, I'm happy you like your gifts, Lucas. Let's see if we can put this together," he said, pointing at a box with "assembly required" printed on it.
After about an hour, when things had quieted down, Lucas looked around and asked, "How is Lucky? Mom said he got sick and had to go to the hospital. Will he be coming by later? I miss him. I want him to see my new toys."
Tony cleared his throat and glanced at Bobbie, who was seated on a couch chatting with Felicia. "Lucky is still in the hospital, Lucas. He'll be there for awhile. We don't know how long."
Bobbie looked worriedly at Felicia, who gave her a supportive smile. She walked over to Lucas and knelt beside him. "Honey, do you remember that conversation we had yesterday about Lucky going to a doctor so he could learn not to be sad?" Lucas nodded seriously. "Lucky felt very sad yesterday, and he had an accident and hurt himself. He had to have surgery. The doctors want to keep him in the hospital until they know he's all better. We're not sure how long that will take. Do you understand?" Lucas nodded gravely as his eyes filled with tears. "Mom, I want Lucky to be okay," he sniffed. "He's in that hospital, and he won't get any presents. Won't that make him sadder?"
Bobbie's eyes lit up. "I have an idea how you can help Lucky," she said. "What?" Lucas asked curiously. "Look over your new toys, and pick one to give to Lucky. He can keep it with him in the hospital."
Lucas jumped up. "Wow!" he exclaimed. "I wonder what I can give him?" Lucas burrowed among his pile of presents and produced a World Wide Wrestling doll, complete with evil mask, long blond hair and red, white and blue cape. "I bet Lucky would like him! When he gets out of the hospital he can wrestle with me."
Bobbie and Tony laughed. "Lucky will appreciate this, Lucas. That's very kind of you," Bobbie saud, hugging Lucas and placing a kiss on top of his head.
Tony looked at his watch. "It's 8:45. I'd better be going."
"You go by yourself, Tony. Lucas and I will be at home. I'll stop by the hospital when you return. That way Lucky will have someone there for him day and evening." Bobbie looked at Tony with a serious expression. "Call me when you find out anything."
~*~*~*~
General Hospital, 9:05AM
Kevin entered the psychiatric wing looking professional in his usual double-breasted suit and white clinical coat. He walked over to the nurse's station with a brisk pace. "May I have Lucky Spencer's chart?" he asked. A nurse handed him the folder, and Kevin read carefully through the chart, not missing a word.
"Have any of you interacted with this patient this morning?" he asked. One nurse spoke up. "I've been on my shift since he was brought in. I'm just about ready to leave now. He's deteriorating, in my opinion.".
"How so?" Kevin inquired. He knew that the nurses were the best source of information concerning patient's activities and progress from day to day.
"His level of responsiveness has gone way down. He moved around when he was first brought in, but now he's very still."
"How about his ADL's?" asked Kevin. "Anything?"
The nurse shook her head. "We couldn't even get him to sit up by himself. He can't or won't eat or drink. I held a straw to his lips, but nothing, he didn't even try. He's still catheterized. We can't get him up to relieve himself."
"Okay," said Kevin. "Thanks, you've been very helpful." Kevin's stomach sank at the news he received.
~*~*~*~
"Lucky. Merry Christmas!" said Kevin as he entered the room.
Lucky lay on his back in exactly the same position as the last evening. His color had returned to his cheeks with the positive effects of his blood transfusion, but his eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, and his facial muscles showed no expression. About every thirty seconds, a single muscle twitched convulsively in his right cheek.
Kevin placed a hand on Lucky's shoulder. "Lucky," he said loudly. "Will you talk to me?" Lucky didn't react or move. Kevin clapped his hands near Lucky's ear, but the boy didn't flinch. Kevin pulled down the blankets and sheets and examined Lucky's self-inflicted cuts and burns, noting their location and severity. Lucky's abdomen was stitched from his side to his navel, and a small amount of blood stained the gauze that covered the wound. Kevin noted the odd positioning of Lucky's left leg. It was held at a perpendicular angle to his trunk in what looked to be an uncomfortable position. Kevin pulled the leg back toward Lucky's right leg, and he noted the rigid yet movable resistance of the leg muscles. Kevin pulled the blankets back over Lucky and reached out to pinch his right forearm for several seconds, noting his lack of reaction to the painful stimulus.
Kevin moved away and stood back with his
hands on his hips, frowning in deep concentration as he looked at Lucky. "Okay,"
he said out loud in a sad tone of voice.
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