Invisble wounds 2/2
At first, he dismisses it as lingering after effects of the head cold he had most of last week and the stress that is part of daily life. He goes to bed late, his head full of to-do lists and unfinished reports. He turns over in bed and frowns when he feels distinctly dizzy, his head whirling. His heart races for a second and there's a hint of nausea. It's unexpected and unsettling. He lies still and tries to relax. He'll be fine in the morning.
It happens again when he sits up to get out of bed for his morning shower. There's also something off with his eyesight. Carefully he makes it through the shower without falling over or throwing up. He begs off his morning run with Ronon, feeling it may be pushing it a bit.
By lunch time, he realises that he feels okay and thinks that maybe that was it. No need to go to Beckett after all.
The day after that everything is fine until late afternoon having taken a jumper out for a check flight round the city and back, he suddenly feels really nauseous as he steps back into the jumper bay. He doesn't know what the hell this is, but he wants it to stop now. He leans against the jumper hull waiting for it to pass.
"Colonel?"
It's Radek with the results of the flight. He breathes slowly and carefully and opens his eyes.
" 'M fine. How'd we do?"
"Jumper is better, but I think you are not. Perhaps we finish this another time."
"That's ...that's a great idea."
Halfway back to his room he realises a) he's trailing a hand along the walls and that doors are opening much quicker for him than usual, and b) he's picked up a shadow that follows him into his room.
"What's up? Want me to get Beckett?" Ronon asks.
"I'm not sure and not yet, I think. Might just be a stomach bug after the cold I had. Gonna lie down now, Chewie. See you later."
The sickness passes and he carries on albeit at a slow pace. Tomorrow he thinks he'll ask Beckett to run a few tests if anything else crops up.
He feels dizzy again in the morning and off- kilter, out of sorts, some ringing in his ears. Nothing specific, so he doesn't go to the infirmary, but his team have noticed and sooner or later they'll drag him off and stick him under the scanner themselves. They haven't been off-world since the scoop -and- run thing with Lorne, when he got his hand messed up and they lost the Lieutenant. He doesn't think there are any other illnesses going round. He only had a cold!
He's in his office running through things with Lorne, who's telling him how much of a pain it is that it's his dominant hand the Wraith squished. But at least their tablets have voice programs on. He says that what he misses most is sketching.
"Really?"
"Oh, yes. Can't go a day two without scribbling. It's what keeps me going through everything."
He sits thinking that Atlantis is like that for him, and flying of any sort. He just itches to fly.
Without warning, his vision tunnels, his heart pounds and he feels lightheaded like he's on the verge of passing out. He vaguely hears Lorne asking what's going on and radioing for help. He leans forward and everything whirls, things look strange, distorted. He hangs on to the edge of the desk afraid to move.
Beckett's here trying to get him to open his eyes and lean back and tell him what's going on. He does his best to stand up and walk, but he's unsure where the ground is and where to put his feet since everything is whirling and bouncing.
Later, he's aware he's in the infirmary and being scanned, Beckett gets him to list all the symptoms he's had since the cold and he goes away looking thoughtful. John's fine as long as he doesn't move.
"Not just tinnitus or vertigo?" Rodney asks sometime later as the team and Dr Weir gather round him.
"No, although they can be symptoms that persist for a while. And I can rule out a stomach virus or return of that cold. But in some way, it is related to the cold he had. If I'm right, the Colonel isn't going to feel better immediately but he will recover as long as we get the right diagnosis and treatment."
"What have I got, Doc?" he asks.
"Labyrinthitis. That's an inner ear infection to you lot."
"An ear infection? But that's what kid's get and swimmers!" Rodney says surprised.
"No, that's a middle ear infection. This is sometimes triggered by a virus such as the Colonel had or various other things. Sometimes a change in pressure. Also stress or a weakened immune system."
"So, what's the treatment? A weeks course of antibiotics?" he asks hopefully, lying perfectly still on the bed. He'd tried to sit up earlier and that had been a big mistake. Everything tilted sideways and he'd almost fallen off.
"No, son. We need to control the vertigo and nausea so you don't feel so bad and take it slowly from there. We'll try Benadryl or Ativan to start, maybe even Diazepam."
"What do you mean take it slowly from there? How long is this going to last?!"
"It depends on how you respond to the drugs. But it's going to be weeks at least."
"Weeks!" He couldn't get to grips with the timescale.
"Yes. You'll need some exercises as well. It's all to do with vestibulo- cochlear nerve that connects the inner ear to the brain. I still need to check some things and put in a call to some specialists. If you have some of the drugs for a long time it could inhibit vestibular compensation and your best chance of recovery. I mean it when I tell you to do exactly what I tell you. No sneaking out of your room and wandering around the city."
Silence greets this little bombshell. Just when he thought his life couldn't get any worse...He has a sudden thought and voices it.
"But I can stay here, right? I don't need to go back to Earth?" His team tense round him.
"Aye. You can stay right here, where I can see what you up to. Which won't be very much for a wee while, I'm afraid."
"And when I recover, I'll still be able to fly. I won't be grounded?"
There's a worrying pause before Beckett speaks. "I can't promise for definite right now." Above the protests, he continues "It's very early in my diagnosis and I'm getting the best help I can for you as soon as you let me go."
"Right." Rodney announces, "I'm going to check the database to see if there some medical equipment we could use." He leaves, already radioing Radek for support. John realises it's the only thing he can think of to help as he can't watch movies or play chess to while on his medical leave. Ronon and Teyla stay in shifts to keep him company and distract him a little.
0o0
Several weeks go by. He has good and really bad days, hardly being able to get out of bed at all. The head exercises are supposed to retrain his inner nerves to work properly and send the right signals that control eye movement and awareness in space. The ultimate aim is to eliminate the dizziness. He feels really silly doing them. If it wasn't for Teyla's Job like patience and Ronon's looming support he might have given up. Or maybe that was just the side effect of depression talking...
It's coming up to the month mark, and he feels stuck in limbo. A bit better but not nearly good enough.
He knows now that Teyla spends far too long knitting some long and slightly wobbly looking scarf (but that could just be his vision). He think of her so much as a warrior and diplomat that apart from tea ceremonies and some other food dishes, he can't imagine other domestic pursuits. Obviously knitting isn't one of them. She tells him she prefers meditation.
On impulse, he asks her to help him relax. He'd prefer not to be on drugs for the anxiety that also goes with the depression, the dizziness and the whirling sensations, and the crippling nausea.
When Ronon's around, they talk about the Satedan military and its history and whatever the latest gossip in the mess hall is, and what the best wood for whittling is.
Rodney's miffed that he can't find some Ancient piece of tech to help him. But that's okay. Why should there be one? Although they can't often play real chess or use the laptop since it involves him sitting up and looking down, which are both no nos, they visualise it in their heads. Rodney also like to write maths problems when he isn't fixing the city or saving the universe.
Lorne visits, and on good days he can look at some of his sketches. Lorne's hand is almost back to normal after some initial worry over it. He remembers how tense Lorne was around that time. Forcing it to sketch meant it didn't lose flexibility. John realises that although most of his work is of Atlantis and its inhabitants and remembered places on Earth, there is darker, bleaker stuff in there too.
"I know I draw all the time, but since I've been in the service, mom says it's therapy and it's cheap, portable and she seems to think it works better than any head shrink. It's the only kind of injury that really scares me- apart from being Wraith bait. In fact, I've come across art therapy in Veteran's Hospitals and rehabilitation programs."
"Really?"
"Oh, yeah." Lorne suddenly looks embarrassed and clears his throat. "In fact, did I tell you about this Art Museum in Chicago? I've been several times since I've been in the service."
"What's so special about it?" He's curious. Dad had been keen on culture and knowing the right things and liking some art. He'd bounced around a few galleries and museums as a kid and teenager.
"It's the Chicago Veterans Art Museum. You should go when you're better, sometime soon." He makes it sound almost like an order. John shrugs. He's not sure of anything right now and the idea of going back to Earth either through the Gate, which can be disorientating at the best of times, or on the Daedalus seems impossible.
"I'll think about it," he says.
0o0
It's been just over two months now and he's pretty much back to normal. He's been lucky. There was no permanent damage to his vestibular nerves and he's been able to 'compensate' as the specialist calls it. All the same, it's been a long and rocky road and he'd never have got through it without the help of his team-mates and Beckett's medical wizardry. The medical leave has meant that he's actually put some weight back on and gets at least six hours sleep most of the time. Beckett's pleased. He has to admit, despite everything, he does feel better himself.
He hadn't realised how tied in knots he was getting over botched missions and close calls with the Wraith and the loss of personnel.
He gets sent back to Earth for a final medical check- up and flying ability status check. Beckett assures him that he'll be reinstated. He goes alone and spends three days being put through a battery of tests manual, physical and medical. He passes on everything they throw at him. He's still not sure if some of the higher- up Generals want him to pass or not.
Before he returns to Atlantis, he keeps his promise to Lorne and goes to the museum, not sure what to expect. Sure, there's dark and horrible pictures of the reality of war. He's seen it often enough. He's not sure if that's the point. Slowly, he realises that it's not just him, who's seen these terrible things, and that making them real rather than not talking about it has released the demons for these artists. He's not so good at talking and he can't draw either. Maybe that's why it all got a bit much recently. A powder keg ready to blow.
The thing that really blows his mind though- and he knows now that this is what Lorne wanted him to see and experience- is the exhibit entitled Above and Beyond. He stands stock still, heart pounding, flashes of faces and the sound of half- remembered voices tumbling through his mind. Above him, dangling in the air are over 58,000 dog tags representing each of the men and women who died in the Vietnam War.
Above and beyond the call of duty. He bows his head. It's still going on. And so is he.
The end.
Prompt - John's connection to Atlantis or ancient technology/exhausted John/ soldier John protecting his team or Atlantis
A/N 2 sources :
http://www.labyrinthitis.org.uk/
http://www.nvvam.org/
'Soldier Dead' by Michael Sledge, 2005.