“Fancy seeing you here again then eh?” He retorted. Same old George, with a bit more pizzazz.
I walked over to him, pretending to do a circulation look on his hands and feet. “Always funny when I’m the one in control.” I said jokingly.
He smirked, “Ironic isn’t it. Every time I get injured you’re around.” I motioned at his bed, if he wanted to be raised higher. I turned the crank and brought him up, he winced.
“What can I say George, if you’re ever injured I’m at your side.” I put my hand on the rail of the bed.
“I should get injured more often with legs like those.” He raised an eyebrow. I knew it was the Demerol talking, but it didn’t stop me with a retort I had heard an ER nurse use.
“Try anything and I’ll put you in a full body cast.”
“Sure could use one at this point.” He chuckled at his own joke but stopped, I could tell he still felt pain. I couldn’t help myself, I had to give in and laugh a little too.
“Good concert though, and a bang out ending.” I had noticed my jokes were getting funnier lately, perhaps because I was seeing Jerry more often, and he was always a joker.
“Oh well aren’t we the funny one today.” He smiled and I grinned proudly.
“Learned from the best.”
“You only met me once.”
“Wasn’t talking about you.”
“Cheeky.”
“Swine.”
“Someone watched A Hard Day’s Night too many times.”
“It was a good movie though, especially when you were drawing designs over the girl putting her shoes on.”
He gave me a joking glare and gave me a sarcastic reply in return to mine, “I pretended it was you.”
“Did you meet her in a hospital too?”
He rolled his eyes and I stuck out my tongue. “So still nursing Sandra?”
“Why yes Mr. Harrison,” I used his ‘appropriate name’ in return, “I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I figured by now you would have quit.” He couldn’t show a lot of emotion, the poor boy was so banged up.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I said with my eyebrows raised, “Are you saying I’m a quitter?”
He widened his eyes, “I didn’t think you’d take it like that, I meant that I would have guessed you’d be married and raising a family by now.”
I let my eyebrows rest – for now. Me - as a married woman and mother? I didn’t see that happening for a while, “Nope. Not me. Not even close to marriage.”
“Your boyfriend hasn’t proposed yet?” Ah, so he was figuring out if I was still single. I’ve had this before, but not with George. I again blamed it on the Demerol.
“No boyfriend, I was waiting all this time for Ringo.” George made an awkward face; a mixture of shocked, disgusted and confusion. “Relax George, I was kidding.” He breathed out.
“Oh good, but it would have made sense with him writing you letters and calling you.”
I thought about it, it did somewhat make sense. I decided it would be best to drop it. “Is the pain medication kicking in?”
“It is, thank God.” He sighed, “The pain was so bad Sandy.” He shook his head a little.
“I can imagine. Are you tired?” It was the question we asked patients after giving them pain medication.
He nodded, “Yeah.”
I turned off the little overhead lamp in hopes he would fall asleep. He didn’t object to this so I let it be. I looked out the window beside his bed. I saw lights coming from it and I moved the curtain over a little. Because George’s room was on the back wing of the hospital, we had a clear view of the park that we generally took patients too when they were recovering. To spread some cheer. It was filled up with people with signs saying how much they loved George. “Woah,” I said, whispering to myself.
“How many?” he asked. I assumed he knew what I was talking about, then again, I suppose he was a star now.
“Hundreds, maybe thousands.” The police had done their best to barrcade it.
“If there’s a riot -”
I cut him off, “No, I don’t think that’s what they’re doing.” I opened the window and you could hear some people singing George’s songs, lines from his movie, and the most powerful of all ‘We love you George. Get better George. We love you George. Get better George.’ Over and over and over again, they chanted. I closed it back up again.
“Do they think I’m dead?” He said laughing a little.
“Probably just think you’re going to be crippled now and they’ll never get a shot with the magical George.” He chuckled at my comment, again, George was laughing at me.
“What do you think love?”
I looked at him, the now setting sun trailing over his face. I didn’t need a light to see him, he didn’t need a light to see me. I made a confused face, “About?”
“My situation.” There was no laughter in his eyes anymore, I was sure there was none in mine.
“I think you’ll get better…love.” I said partially smiling. He smiled back, I had brought him back from any deadly thoughts.
“I need a ciggy. They’re in my shirt pocket. Could you be a doll face and- ”
“Gone.” I said simply.
“What’s gone?” He looked like he was going to panic.
“Your shirt.” I saw his eyes widened. “It was all bloody, but don’t worry, John saved your pack of ciggys.”
He breathed out obviously relieved. I got one out and lit it up for him. I put it in his hand, his good hand and he took a long drag. “My shirt is probably all in shreds and being sold right now.”
“Imagine your undies.” I laughed, he laughed back and couldn’t stop even if he wanted too, the pain was immense I imagined.
“Good thing they were clean,” he managed to breathe out before me following him in hysterics. All of the tension of the crisis seemed to drop away. I sat on the side of the bed, holding the ashtray out for him as needed. We sat there quietly before he finished the cigarette. I asked him if he needed anything. He replied no, and was soon asleep.
I sat there still, sitting on the bed, watching him sleep in pain. He looked much different in person I had noticed, his cheekbones were more defined, his hair wavier then I had noticed, perhaps because it was longer, nose had a smoother top then what I had previously seen in pictures. But then again, he was better looking in person than in pictures. Finally, I figured I should eat something. The popcorn we ate didn’t quite fill me up. I asked the security guard outside of George’s room to sit with him while I was gone, and told the first nurse I saw on rounds (whose name turned out to be Susan) to check up on for a few minutes from time to time until I came back.
I reached the cafeteria and realized I was out of money and my purse was back at home. I had forgotten it while rushing here. I talked the chef into putting it on my candy stripper credit and after seeing the collected group of reporters in the luncheon room, I went back up to George’s room. I thanked Susan; she promised me she would check up on us from time to time anyways. What an angel in disguise she turned out to be. The security guard gave me a dollar for half of my sandwich, to which I happily obliged to share with him. I still had another half and a small slice of pie (even if it did taste bad).
George was still asleep when I got back, sound as can be really. I turned the small light overhead his bed and aimed it towards the chair so it wouldn’t hit his face. I spent some time writing nurses notes about his injuries. Susan came in twice, to deliver some flowers and a box of jelly beans that a desperate fan had handed her, another time to deliver a huge pillow with “I LOVE GEORGE” written over it. We laughed about it, it was Beatlemania in full. Brian also came in, with a solemn John behind him. Looking at the clock, it seemed to be closer to eleven; I suppose they came at this time to avoid the huge crowd which had slowly diminished.
“How is he Sandy?” Brian said slowly walking around George. “Amazing seeing you again by the way, just under bad terms.” He chuckled.
“Yes, yes it is isn’t it. Lucky I knew the doctor though.” I replied, setting down the notes and standing up as I had been taught. Hands clasped in front of my apron, shoes on straight (I had kicked them off) and hat on.
“John and I just came to check up on him and deliver some – well – more flowers as it would appear from Capitol records. I thought it would be best as I hadn’t seen him since what, 10?” He said tapping at something tracking George’s heartbeat.
“How is he?” John piped up from beside the door. I hadn’t ever talked to him seriously, nor had I to Paul. John looked thinner than he did in his movies, and unlike when I met him last year, he seemed quieter. He was still wearing the pants to his suit that he wore on stage, with a white shirt un-tucked. He was also wearing glasses. I was shocked to see him wearing glasses; I never knew he wore contacts. They were thick rimmed black ones, similar to Buddy Holly’s. They looked good on him though- but then again, he was John Lennon. Anything looked good on him.
I was going to show him the notes, but realized he wouldn’t understand what CC’s or CU’s were. “He’s pretty tragic at the moment, but he’s going to live. You’ll have your guitarist back eventually.” John nodded no sense of humor I suppose.
“He taught me guitar you know.” He said looking up, thinking back perhaps.
“Oh?” I hadn’t known that actually. “I thought you knew before you met him?”
“Well I did, but George really taught it to me. Before I picked it up on my own, George showed me the finer details of it all. Good man.” He partially smiled and Brian walked over to John.
“Alright Sandy, just came for a quick drop by, we should be getting back to the hotel. We got a nice room; I suppose to make up for the poor kids fall. No complaining from the boys though.” He smiled and tilted his hat.
After they had left, I finished my bit of food and continued with some notes, what times to give him his medication, and was ready to check his cast again, and his circulation. I obviously had to touch his cast and sling, but I touched carefully and softly, trying not to disturb him. He stirred a bit, but didn’t seem to move. I leaned over his broken left arm, trying not to touch it with my stomach to reach his tape on his right ribs. I had to stand on my tippy toes. I carefully undid the hospital gown; it buttoned at the front rather than back, for patients with frontal injury. I had to say, I never expected opening George Harrison’s shirt.
I moved the opening apart and got a good look at the tape. I felt around the tape, it was hot. I expected it to be though; the blood was rushing to heal it. It was also swollen. I tried not to notice the rest of his body, it seemed inappropriate. I closed the shirt back up, or robe rather, and began buttoning them up, from the bottom up. I was at the third button from the top one when I heard a small chuckle. I looked up at George and his eyes were partially open. Instinctively, I pulled my hands back from his chest. George chuckled again, “Now now, finish buttoning those up, I can’t do it.” I blushed, not that he could see, unless the moonlight showed it. I reached back and buttoned them up quickly and as I reached the top one I could feel someone staring at me. I looked up bashfully at George. “I was checking your ribs.” I said quietly. “It’s your job.” I nodded, it was, and normally I didn’t feel that about a patient – to be embarrassed. Then again, it wasn’t every day I took care of someone as famous as a Beatle.
“Sorry you’re going through all of this…pain.” I said trying to take the awkwardness away.
“Don’t be, after all, I got to see my favorite nurse again.”
