Anton's got a spark but (cantstartafire) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2013-06-03 21:09:00 |
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Entry tags: | jack harkness |
Who: Anton Sparke
Where: The dog park, then the hospital
When: Today!
What: A heart attack of course
Warnings: Anton almost dead and then not?
It was hot, 109 degrees in June hot. Anton was about to start his second summer in Las Vegas and he was regretting every moment of it. Other than the weather things were good. He was out walking the dog that he pretended to hate and hoping to God she would hurry and do her business. Truth be told she looked as miserable as he felt.
There were a few other people with their dogs at the dog park that afternoon, they were all huddled under trees while their dogs tipped over the water dishes and chased each other around for about three seconds before finding a shady spot to lay. Anton was contemplating calling Lola over and heading back, he could feel himself starting to sweat. He was already hot but his forehead seemed to start dripping almost immediately. He shivered, which was strange, and he started to worry when he felt a tightening in his chest. It had to be a reaction to the heat, he took a drink from the water bottle he was holding and found himself short of breath as he took a long drink.
His knees started to feel a little wobbly, and he wasn't sure when the ground decided to start to spin but he put one hand up against the tree instinctively to keep himself from falling over. He tried to take a deep breath and he was aware of someone asking him if he was alright. He moved his head to nod once, not wanting to be fussed over, but instead of nodding he felt his upper lip start to sweat and felt the blood leave his face. The man standing next to him moved a little closer and said, "You look pretty green, maybe you should sit down," Anton promptly vomited all of the water that he had just consumed and whatever was still in his stomach onto the ground of the dog park and there was a stabbing pain in the center of his shoulder blades that he knew was a bad thing. His chest tightened over and over again, almost a feeling of someone sitting on it. He dropped to his knees and people around him started to panic and rushed over to him.
A young lady was nice enough to keep him from falling into what he'd just thrown up, but he felt worse when he threw up on her once they were both on the ground. She didn't blink about it, and while his eyes started to roll back into his head he was vaguely aware of someone calling 911, he worried about Lola, and he didn't remember much after that.
There were flashes of consciousness, the commotion at the dog park, the ambulance arriving and trying to wake him up and putting nitroglycerin under his tongue. They checked him out quickly all while running him on a stretcher to the waiting vehicle. He remembered them putting an oxygen mask on his face, asking questions he didn't know the answer to and couldn't really hear anyway. He was aware of being jostled and they were doing a good job of keeping him alive for the time being.
When he woke up groggily several hours later he was in a brightly lit room and someone was standing over him smiling, her nametag said something he couldn't quite make out and he closed his eyes again while she talked to him. "Hi Anton," she said brightly. "Welcome back, are you in any pain? Are you nauseated?" She asked him, as if he'd know. But he tried to answer first by nodding his head that yes he was in pain and again that he was nauseated but his head mostly just lolled about. His chest was tight and burning, but not like it had been. It was throbbing, a familiar throb. They'd opened him up. Again. He looked at his arm, he was attached to an IV, he had an oxygen mask on his face and the as of yet unnamed nurse was fiddling with the wires and tubes attached to him. "You're in the recovery room, Anton. The doctor will be in to talk to you shortly, I'm going to give you something for the pain and something for the nausea, mmkay?" she was a godsend, clearly.
He didn't know how long it had been since he'd been roused awake by the unnamed nurse, but he was being wheeled to a room elsewhere in the hospital. He saw the letters ICU on a wall as they wheeled him to his room and he knew where he was. And that it was serious. He needed to call Orin, he needed to find Nell, talk to James, fix this now. He tried to talk, but his mouth was dry and his throat hurt. His tongue didn't want to move along with his lips and he closed his eyes again.