Bits and Pieces: Therapy
Title: Therapy
Summary: Janet helps Jack with some physical therapy.
Timeframe: Shortly after Jack's accident, before "Changes."
Characters/Pairing: Jack, Janet
Genre: Drama, Hurt/Comfort
Rating: PG
Note: This little series is going to show snippets of Jack's recovery, before and after "Changes." Each snippet can be read as a stand-alone. And for those of you who are waiting for the sequel, I'm hoping this will hold you guys over 'till I'm finished. I'm almost done, finally!
Therapy
"Dr. Fraiser, I could use some help with Colonel O'Neill. He will not submit to his physical therapy," the exasperated Nurse Benson exclaimed, bursting into Janet's office.
Pushing back her chair, Janet immediately got to her feet. It hadn't been long since O'Neill had come out of his coma after the emergency surgery following his accident. Since his physical wounds were on their way to healing, now, and his mental incapacitation had him struggling with normal, everyday functions, it was time for them to get his unused muscles working again.
Jack, however, had other ideas. It had taken him long enough to get comfortable with Janet, let alone Teal'c and Daniel, but he had serious issues with other people touching him. This caused plenty of problems, considering Janet couldn't always be there to take care of his every need. She was the CMO of the base, and had other patients to tend to. As much as she wanted to care for him, because he was her friend, Janet knew it just wasn't possible for her to be his nurse and doctor 24/7.
Dismissing Benson, and declining the nurse's offer to try and assist, Janet made a beeline for Jack's private room. It was disheartening to see him lying there so still, his head tilted, vacantly staring at the wall.
She smiled tightly and made a tutting noise while approaching him. "Colonel O'Neill, I hear you're giving my staff a hard time, again." When he continued to stare at the wall, unmoving, she softly said, "Jack."
This time, O'Neill's head rocked back to the middle of his pillow, his eyes slowly coming to focus on her. His attention only lasted a few seconds, however, before his chin lowered, and he stared at his unmoving right hand on the mattress.
Janet made a mental note that he gave some sort of response to being called "Jack," but none at all to "Colonel," or "Colonel O'Neill." She had seen him make some kind of response to Teal'c simply calling him "O'Neill," in his deep baritone, but so far, no acknowledgement at all to anyone else using the name.
Planting her hands on her hips, Janet looked directly at Jack and said, "I'm going to have to do your therapy, since you won't let anyone else move your arms and legs so they don't stiffen up on you." She picked up his limp hand and flexed the lightly-twitching digits.
Jack had regained simple movements in his extremities, but so far, no fine motor control. It was frustrating and difficult to watch him struggle to communicate in the only ways he knew how, which at this point were only a few wails, grunts, and the uncoordinated flailing in his arms and legs.
Janet picked up Jack's left arm, holding it at his wrist and bicep. She slowly began to flex and stretch the limb a few times before rotating his shoulder. Jack's head tilted, and he stared at her, blinking blankly as she continued her ministrations for a few more minutes, then switched to the other side.
When Jack jerked his arm away from her as she tried to manipulate it, Janet wasn't surprised. This was where the difficulty came in. Jack didn't appreciate the same therapy on this side, because Janet suspected that the movements pulled at the healing shrapnel wounds scattered over his right torso.
"It's okay," she soothed, aware that a person's tone, when speaking to him, almost always made a difference. Janet lifted just his hand, and rubbed it between both of hers, warming his cool fingers. "I'll be extra careful, Jack. I promise," she assured him.
This time, as Janet gingerly lifted his arm, Jack didn't pull away. She stretched, flexed, and rotated accordingly, taking care to be even more gentle than she had on his left arm. She didn't jar his side so badly, and Jack let her do her job before she moved on to his legs.
Janet flexed each foot, and bent every toe. She rotated his ankles, bent his knees up and down, and stretched out each leg. When Jack finally started to squirm, after spending nearly half an hour on his legs, Janet knew he had reached the limits of his comfort, without him having to tell her so.
She gave Jack water, checked all his tubing, plunged a mild pain reliever into his IV port, and told him to rest. Janet perched on the edge of his bed and lightly raked her fingers through his hair. He seemed to like that.
Jack hummed softly, his eyes darting around for a few seconds before he closed them.
Janet sat quietly, listening as his breathing grew soft and even. She brushed a hand through his hair again, then bent over Jack to kiss his forehead. "Rest well, Jack."
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Summary: Janet helps Jack with some physical therapy.
Timeframe: Shortly after Jack's accident, before "Changes."
Characters/Pairing: Jack, Janet
Genre: Drama, Hurt/Comfort
Rating: PG
Note: This little series is going to show snippets of Jack's recovery, before and after "Changes." Each snippet can be read as a stand-alone. And for those of you who are waiting for the sequel, I'm hoping this will hold you guys over 'till I'm finished. I'm almost done, finally!
Therapy
"Dr. Fraiser, I could use some help with Colonel O'Neill. He will not submit to his physical therapy," the exasperated Nurse Benson exclaimed, bursting into Janet's office.
Pushing back her chair, Janet immediately got to her feet. It hadn't been long since O'Neill had come out of his coma after the emergency surgery following his accident. Since his physical wounds were on their way to healing, now, and his mental incapacitation had him struggling with normal, everyday functions, it was time for them to get his unused muscles working again.
Jack, however, had other ideas. It had taken him long enough to get comfortable with Janet, let alone Teal'c and Daniel, but he had serious issues with other people touching him. This caused plenty of problems, considering Janet couldn't always be there to take care of his every need. She was the CMO of the base, and had other patients to tend to. As much as she wanted to care for him, because he was her friend, Janet knew it just wasn't possible for her to be his nurse and doctor 24/7.
Dismissing Benson, and declining the nurse's offer to try and assist, Janet made a beeline for Jack's private room. It was disheartening to see him lying there so still, his head tilted, vacantly staring at the wall.
She smiled tightly and made a tutting noise while approaching him. "Colonel O'Neill, I hear you're giving my staff a hard time, again." When he continued to stare at the wall, unmoving, she softly said, "Jack."
This time, O'Neill's head rocked back to the middle of his pillow, his eyes slowly coming to focus on her. His attention only lasted a few seconds, however, before his chin lowered, and he stared at his unmoving right hand on the mattress.
Janet made a mental note that he gave some sort of response to being called "Jack," but none at all to "Colonel," or "Colonel O'Neill." She had seen him make some kind of response to Teal'c simply calling him "O'Neill," in his deep baritone, but so far, no acknowledgement at all to anyone else using the name.
Planting her hands on her hips, Janet looked directly at Jack and said, "I'm going to have to do your therapy, since you won't let anyone else move your arms and legs so they don't stiffen up on you." She picked up his limp hand and flexed the lightly-twitching digits.
Jack had regained simple movements in his extremities, but so far, no fine motor control. It was frustrating and difficult to watch him struggle to communicate in the only ways he knew how, which at this point were only a few wails, grunts, and the uncoordinated flailing in his arms and legs.
Janet picked up Jack's left arm, holding it at his wrist and bicep. She slowly began to flex and stretch the limb a few times before rotating his shoulder. Jack's head tilted, and he stared at her, blinking blankly as she continued her ministrations for a few more minutes, then switched to the other side.
When Jack jerked his arm away from her as she tried to manipulate it, Janet wasn't surprised. This was where the difficulty came in. Jack didn't appreciate the same therapy on this side, because Janet suspected that the movements pulled at the healing shrapnel wounds scattered over his right torso.
"It's okay," she soothed, aware that a person's tone, when speaking to him, almost always made a difference. Janet lifted just his hand, and rubbed it between both of hers, warming his cool fingers. "I'll be extra careful, Jack. I promise," she assured him.
This time, as Janet gingerly lifted his arm, Jack didn't pull away. She stretched, flexed, and rotated accordingly, taking care to be even more gentle than she had on his left arm. She didn't jar his side so badly, and Jack let her do her job before she moved on to his legs.
Janet flexed each foot, and bent every toe. She rotated his ankles, bent his knees up and down, and stretched out each leg. When Jack finally started to squirm, after spending nearly half an hour on his legs, Janet knew he had reached the limits of his comfort, without him having to tell her so.
She gave Jack water, checked all his tubing, plunged a mild pain reliever into his IV port, and told him to rest. Janet perched on the edge of his bed and lightly raked her fingers through his hair. He seemed to like that.
Jack hummed softly, his eyes darting around for a few seconds before he closed them.
Janet sat quietly, listening as his breathing grew soft and even. She brushed a hand through his hair again, then bent over Jack to kiss his forehead. "Rest well, Jack."
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