Just My Luck Ch. 3
Several hours after Lance and Joey had arrived at the hospital, Dr. Shannon left the small, temporary room holding a sleeping Lance and entered the surgical ward on the second floor of Orlando’s Mercy General Hospital to search out surgeon, Miles Matthews. Just minutes earlier he had received word that Joey had been taken to surgical recovery and the doctor was intent on hearing directly from the surgeon the operation’s outcome and Joey’s prognosis.
Dr. Shannon walked up to one of the nurses’ stations and asked for information and received directions to the surgeon’s location and minutes later, he entered the private recovery unit where both Dr. Matthews and Joey were located.
Dr. Shannon quietly knocked on the proper door and stepped into the semi-dark room. In the middle of the room Joey lay asleep on a hospital bed and the man standing beside him looked up from the bandages he was checking that were tightly wrapped about Joey’s right hand.
“Dr. Matthews?” Dr. Shannon stated as he walked over to the older man with his right hand outstretched. “My name is Dr. Kenneth Shannon. I’m Joey Fatone’s personal physician.”
The older man smiled and shook the doctor’s hand.
“It’s good to meet you,” Dr. Matthews answered as the two men turned their attention to the still figure lying on the bed. Dr. Shannon stepped closer to the bed and placed his hand lightly on Joey’s right shoulder.
“What were you able to find?” Dr. Shannon asked in a tight voice. He was feeling so many emotions at that very moment. He knew that he was not supposed to become personally involved with his patients, but the group of young men that made up Nsync had caused him to push that rule to the side. In the short span of the two years that he had come to know the group he had grown to care for them just as he would if they were his own sons. And right now, in a sense, two of his boys were hurting…one from a brutal attack that he couldn’t even bring himself to think about for the moment, and the other as a result of the rescue of the first young man.
Dr. Shannon’s errant thoughts were interrupted when Dr. Matthews placed his hand on the younger physician’s arm in order to regain his attention.
“Doctor…Joseph is doing very well,” Dr. Matthews said in an understanding tone of voice. He had found himself in similar situations in the thirty some odd years of his practice and he knew that his good news would considerably brighten the day for the doctor.
“His hand was not as severely damaged as first thought. He did indeed inflict some damage to the tendons,” the doctor stated as he gently lifted Joey’s hand from the pillow it was resting upon without disturbing the young man. He pointed out where the incisions were made and gave the full, formal review of what had been done during the surgery. Moments later, he concluded his remarks.
“All in all, he could not have come out of the situation any better than he had. The nicked tendons should heal within a few weeks. During that time he’ll wear a soft cast to protect the site, but will be allowed to remove the cast when showering or bathing...swimming. The stitches will be ready to remove in about a week…week and a half and we’ll have to see about physical therapy once the healing process has progressed nicely. I’d say in about 5 to 6 weeks we’ll know better on what to do in that area.”
“What about his release date?” Dr. Shannon asked quickly. He knew that that would probably be one of the first questions that Joey would ask besides Lance’s condition once able to.
“We’ll keep him at least through tomorrow night,” Dr. Matthews answered. “When he does go home, he’ll need much help in doing things since he is right handed.”
”That shouldn’t be a problem. He’s staying with some friends of his right now and they’ll see to his being taken care of.”
“Good…good,” Dr. Matthews replied. “Well…he should be waking soon. When he’s somewhat alert, we’ll send him upstairs to the VIP floor. I heard that he’ll be sharing his room with the young man who was the reason behind his injuries.”
“Yes…and I’d appreciate that being kept confidential,” Dr. Shannon replied. He understood how precious privacy was to the group and their families and, although the doctor had not said anything unprofessional, Dr. Shannon didn’t want to have to fight the press any more than he had to.
“Listen…if you want, have one his friends come in and stay with him until he fully awakens,” Dr. Matthews stated. “He made it quite clear that he was going to have a large entourage waiting for him before he was put under.”
Dr. Shannon laughed and nodded his head in agreement then glanced down at the still sleeping figure when a nurse walked into the room with some diagnostic equipment.
“I think I need to go visit with some people in my office,” Dr. Shannon said as he once again shook Dr. Matthews’ hand. “I’ll be sending one of the guys down in about 15 to 20 minutes to sit with Joey until he’s moved. I really appreciate what you did for Joe.”
”You’re welcome,” Dr. Miles answered. “If you or any of the others have any questions, please feel free to contact me.”
With that said, both doctors exited the room to leave in separate directions.
Marshall Goines sat in the little, seedy hotel room on the outskirts of northern Orlando. He pushed a box of half eaten pizza off to the side of his double bed and pointed the remote control toward to the small colored set across the room.
As he flipped through the limited amount of channels, he glanced at the laptop computer that he had stolen some 5 hours earlier from Darren’s trailer. With a small sneer, Marshall grabbed for the computer and turned it on. As he waited for the machine to boot up, the local news came on.
“Good evening. My name is Jordan Baker sitting in for Parker Warren and this is Channel 11’s 6 o’clock newscast. In breaking news, Channel 11 just heard word of a brutal attack on one of the members of the world famous musical group, Nsync. Sources say that James Lance Bass was rushed to an undisclosed area hospital at around 12:30 this afternoon after being attacked in one of the group’s many trailers located on the grounds of WEG Studios. There are no details as to the severity of his injuries. The police have issued APB for the apprehension of one Marshall Goines, who was employed as a pyro-technician for Nsync’s successful No Strings Attached Summer 2000 Tour.”
Marshall, in disbelief was suddenly looking at himself…pictures of himself being splashed across the television screen before more pictures of Lance and also some of Joey replaced his.
“Sources also state that another member of the group, Joseph Fatone sustained injuries as an indirect result of the attack, but as to the severity of those said injuries we are unable to inform you at this time. This news program will keep you up to date as further developments are made available to us.
Now, our other top story, wildfires rage…”
Marshall turned the television off and shakily placed the remote on the bedspread. He never would have dreamed that Lance would not have taken his threats against his friends…his family…himself seriously. He had been sure that he would have remained untouchable, but he was rapidly finding out how wrong he had really been in his assumptions.
Marshall stood on trembling legs and glanced wildly about the sparsely furnished hotel room. He had to get out of there…out of Orlando…out of Florida…maybe even out of the US. He could head to Mexico…that could possibly be the answer. His thoughts raged without direction as he quickly began to pack up what few things he had brought with him to the motel. Within minutes, he was ready to leave when he heard a pounding on his motel room’s door.
“Marshall…I know you’re in there!” a deep, male voice shouted. “You better let me in there!”
Marshall flattened himself against the wall and looked with terror filled eyes at the metal door separating him from the loan shark he was currently dealing with. With a pounding heart and shallow breaths, Marshall listened to the man outside threatening to kick in the door, among other things, but Marshall remained unmoved until his family was mentioned.
“Hey…Marshal! Did I mention that I saw your sister Charlotte the other day?” the disembodied voice called out.
At the mention of his sister’s name, Marshall’s blood ran cold. With shaky hands he unlocked the door and stepped back as his loan shark entered the room.
“Going somewhere?”
“It’s not what you think,” Marshall stammered. “I was watching the news…and…”
“I heard what you did.” Marshall looked at the man and tried to read his face, but he was unable to. His thoughts were interrupted when he discovered in surprise, that the man was now standing within 3 feet of him.
“Is that the stuff?”
Marshall jumped then only nodded his head and walked around to the other side of the bed to retrieve the items that he had stolen from Darren’s trailer.
“When did you plan on turning this in for some cash?”
“Today, but things got really crazy and…”
“Who did you tell, Marshall?”
The question threw the younger man for a loop. Incredulously, he glanced up at the man now standing directly across from Marshall on the opposite side of the bed.
“What?”
“You heard me Marshall…who did you tell about…us…your loan?”
“No one…I swear…no one. There was no reason to tell anyone,” Marshall stammered.
“That’s not what I heard from Jared.” The man stopped talking long enough to see Marshall’s face lose all color. He had forgotten. Not soon after he had left Lance tied up in Darren’s trailer, he had encountered Jared Thomas, one of the head technicians who worked with the lasers on the tour.
“Whatcha got there Marsh?” Jared asked as he watched the young man pass by.
“Just some stuff…gotta make a payment,” Marshall answered, not interrupting his stride. He had immediately left the WEG Studio area after that and headed directly to the motel where he was now. He had no idea that Jared had connections with…
“That’s what I thought…and you know how I feel about you telling people about me…about us.”
“I’m sorry…it was a mistake…I swear it won’t happen again!” Marshall practically begged as he stumbled backwards away from the bed, into the wall.
“That’s right…it won’t,” the older man said as he pulled out a gun and wordlessly aimed it in Marshall’s direction.
Seconds later, 3 pops could be heard in the room and Marshall’s limp body silently slid down the wall he had found himself to be against.
The loan shark quickly grabbed up the items on the bed and made his way to the door. With one last glance at the body lying across the room, he opened the door and slipped out into the warm sunshine.
Back at WEG Studios, Charlotte Goines, Marshall’s sister was walking around the grounds in search of her brother after having been issued a pass by security. She had served as a crewmember in the past during the group’s first American tour and still found it easy enough to visit her little brother when their schedules worked out.
“Have you seen Marsh?” she asked a crewmember as they passed by carrying a load of cables.
“No, but Jared might know where he is,” the man replied, gesturing toward the building in which Nsync would practice in full dress rehearsal for their concerts before walking away.
Charlotte smiled and walked toward the building. She was so proud of her brother. When she had heard that he had been hired on as a “roadie” of sorts for the NSA tour, she was thankful that her little brother would be out of Orlando and away from the trouble that had seemed to haunt him for the last three or four years. She had been too caught up in her own life lately to have noticed that Marshall’s life had not changed very much and since he had not been around during the entire summer and a good portion of the fall, she had no idea how much trouble he had actually, just recently fallen into or the crowd that he had taken up with during the tour.
Just as Charlotte was about to enter the large, rehearsal building Jared Thomas came walking out.
“Just the man I was looking for,” Charlotte said with a smile.
Jared looked at her in surprise and pulled the young woman into a hug.
“Hey, Charlotte. How are you doing, sweetie?”
“Just great,” she answered stepping out of the man’s arms. “You look great.”
“Hey, so do you. What brings you out here?” he asked and motioned for the young woman to follow him over to a set of folder chairs sitting on a small lawn.
“Looking for that little brother of mine,” Charlotte answered. “Have you seen him?”
Charlotte saw the look on Jared’s face and she felt her stomach immediately knot up and her heart drop to her feet.
“What did he do, Jared?” she asked, reaching out for the older man beside her.
“Now…Charlotte…who says he did anything?” Jared answered, struggling to keep his words and tone of voice neutral, but realizing that it was useless. He could be read like a book.
“Jared…tell me. What kind of trouble did he get himself into this time?”
Jared looked around him as he decided whether or not he should actually just come out and tell the woman what he had seen and heard throughout the afternoon.
“Well…I don’t know this for sure, but…I heard some things today,” the man hesitantly supplied, keeping his gaze fixed on the ground.
“Wait…don’t tell me…he didn’t have anything to do with…oh no…not Marsh…not him,” Charlotte whispered in a tortured voice.
“Um…he had a debt to pay…he got himself into some trouble Char…with a loan shark, but that’s not the worse of it.”
“There’s more than his involvement with a shark?” Charlotte asked bitterly between her angry tears.
“Um…there was an attack today on one of the guys,” Jared began.
“No…not Marsh…he couldn’t have…” Charlotte weakly protested, but in her heart of hearts, she knew that Jared wasn’t telling a lie.
“Lance Bass was attacked this afternoon and left tied up in Darren’s trailer. He almost died.”
”What…how?” Charlotte asked as she stared at the man before her in disbelief.
“He had a noose tied around his neck…he identified Marshall as the attacker, Char. It was Marsh.”
For the next several minutes Jared offered Charlotte support as she wept, but he knew that whatever he could say or do would not help the young woman in her time of grief.
At Mercy General Hospital, Dr. Shannon stepped onto the elevator and pressed a button indicating the floor where his office was located. As the doors closed, he allowed his thoughts to wander back to when Lance and Joey had first arrived at the hospital more than 5 hours earlier.
As the doctor watched the EMTs begin to unload their vehicle, to say that he was shocked was an understatement. He did not have much time to get very many details when the first of two stretchers were rolled into the large treatment room with two policemen following closely behind the emergency medical personal who had made the run.
“What happened?” Dr. Shannon asked as he first walked up to Lance’s gurney to see that a cervical collar had been placed about his neck. Lance’s face was obscured by an oxygen mask and on his bare chest were the leads and adhesive pads for the heart monitor along with what looked like bruises and possible rope burns.
The doctor’s gaze quickly scanned downward and he noted that bandages were wrapped about the young man’s wrists and he lifted up the end of the light blankets draped over Lance to see that there were bandages wrapped about his ankles as well.
“What in the world?” the doctor asked in bewilderment as he dropped the blankets and looked at the police officers next to him.
“He was attacked in his choreographer’s trailer by an intruder. He was found bound hand and foot, gagged and blindfolded, and choking due to a cord that had been wrapped around his neck by the intruder.”
Dr. Shannon moved back up toward Lance’s head and gently ran his hand over the young man’s hair with one hand as he reached into his pocket for his penlight. With quick and sure, but gentle movements, the doctor checked Lance’s pupil reactions and was pleased to see that things seemed normal. He then pulled his stethoscope from another pocket and bent over the still form to listen to the strong heartbeat and breath sounds.
“Doc…is he doing okay?” a small voice asked behind the doctor causing him to abruptly turn to see Joey lying on the second gurney with his bleeding hand heavily swathed in bandages and propped up on a pillow.
“Is he breathing okay?”
“He’s looking good, Joey,” the doctor replied as the activity around the young men began in earnest. Dr. Shannon looked back to see that Dr. Mohammad was busily tending to Lance along with at least a half dozen other medical personnel, giving the doctor the opportunity to head up the care being given to Joey.
“Joey?” the doctor began, but was interrupted when Joey began to quietly speak.
“You should have seen it, doc,” Joey whispered as he lay back against the pillow, wincing as the bandages around his hand were being unwound by an intern.
“We, me, Jace and J, walked in and saw him in sitting in a chair…just like in a horror movie. He was all tied up…and he was making this awful sound…a choking sound,” Joey said as tears began to spill down his cheeks as the memory became vivid.
“How did you cut your hand?” Dr. Shannon asked, fighting his own emotions as he pulled a mobile light down closer to Joey’s hand so that he could get a better view of the damaged area.
“I had to smash a window with a cinder block to unlock the trailer door,” Joey slowly replied as he began to blink heavily. His vision was beginning to dim, but he wanted desperately to stay awake, so he continued to speak, but he could feel the darkness beginning to surround him.
“ Um…when I heard him choking… I grabbed a piece…of broken glass…off the floor and…used it to cut…the cord…around his neck,” Joey answered slowly. He was beginning to sense that something else was going on…things were becoming fuzzy. Not drug fuzzy, but…something similar.
“He…his attacker…used cords from…the blinds to tie him up…blinds. They…were wrapped so…tight around him that…they cut him. He must…have been…like that for an…hour at least,” Joey said in a voice that was becoming even quieter with each word spoken.
Dr. Shannon heard the change in the young man’s voice, but continued his exam of Joey’s hand until he heard Joey’s next statement.
“Um…it’s getting dark…I’m cold,” Joey quietly complained as he realized that something was going to happen…something was wrong, but his thoughts were becoming too clouded and muddled to comprehend what was actually happening to him...
Dr. Shannon took his gaze away from Joey’s hand and looked down at the young man’s face. His features were slowly starting to wax over and his eyes were becoming slightly glazed as he began to whisper unintelligibly of what he had seen.
“Shane…he’s going into shock,” the doctor said to one of the interns working on Joey. Several instructions flew out of the doctor’s mouth and soon Joey was floating on a wave of medication that was taking him away from the reality of what was going on about him.
The activity around the two young men continued until one was whisked away to the surgical ward while the other was taken away to CAT scan. Dr. Shannon stood back and glanced down at the bloodied bandages lying on the floor…the discarded sheets…plastic tubing…syringes. Once again…one of his favorite patients…no, two of his favorite patients were under his care.
The elevator doors opening brought the doctor out of his thoughts and wearily he walked through its doors and headed down several long corridors to his office door.
Once outside his office, Dr. Shannon paused at the door. This scenario had become all too familiar in the time that he had come to know the members of Nsync. In the time that he had become their personal physician, there had been countless times that he had faced this same situation. On the other side of this door would be a group of young men waiting anxiously for news of one or more of their group. JC’s near drowning and collapse…Joey’s fall from a fence…Justin’s collapse from shock and his tumble down a flight of stairs. Now, it was Lance’s turn and Joey’s once again.
“Who’s next?” the doctor asked himself with a small, emotionless chuckle, he grasped the doorknob, gently turned it and entered the room.
Almost immediately, four very anxious individuals quickly approached the doctor, and he greeted the three young men with small hugs and reassuring words before walking up to the fourth man in the room.
“He’s going to be alright, Mr. Wright,” Dr. Shannon said, knowing that the manager needed to hear those words. “They’re both going to be just fine.”
Johnny visibly relaxed and wiped a hand across his face as he sat heavily on the couch he had only moments ago risen from.
“Thank you…thank you very much,” Johnny answered in a choked voice.
For the next several minutes, the silence in the room was punctuated by the occasional quiet crying of the young men. No words could express the horror that they had encountered in first seeing Lance bound in the trailer and hearing the awful choking sounds he was making as the cord wrapped about his neck slowly strangled him.
Finally, after everyone had been able to get a handle on their emotions, Dr. Shannon began to give the group information concerning Lance and Joey.
“Start with Lance, doc…please,” Justin quietly pleaded as he leaned against Chris who had wrapped an arm around the younger man as soon as they had sat down on one of the couches.
“Well…he’s doing surprisingly well,” Dr. Shannon said as he wearily sat down in a chair after pulling it closer to where the others were seated.
“The cords wrapped around his wrists and ankles caused minimal damage,” the doctor informed them. “We’ve cleaned and wrapped all four sites and there should be very little scarring if any at all, but they are going to be painful for a while.”
“Um…what about his…” JC could not even bring himself to say the words, but gestured with his hand his own neck before wiping away a stray tear as it trailed down his cheek.
“Well…there was some damage there,” the doctor began.
“What do you mean?” Johnny asked in slight alarm. His mind began to race with various scenarios…Lance unable to sing…unable to talk…unable to eat…unable to breathe.
“Well, let me say this…there is no permanent damage.” There was a collective sigh at Dr. Shannon’s words. “But there was slight damage to his vocal cords. Apparently, he must have strained against the cords at one point…strained enough to put undue pressure on his vocal cords, then add to the fact that he must have screamed or yelled for help…and there lies the damage.”
“So…what does that mean?” Chris asked as he tried to process the information given to them.
“That means that Lance will need complete, non-vocal rest for at least the next week and from there, he’ll be allowed to speak, but not sing.”
“For how long?” JC asked, knowing that that question had to be on everyone’s minds.
“I’d say for at least three to four weeks and even then, he should limit the singing to simple exercises…for at least another week…then he can resume singing after that.”
“For that long,” Johnny said in disbelief…a month…month and a half…maybe more. His mind began to race…cancellations on interviews, promotions…putting the start of the new album off…possibly having to move the next concert leg to a much later date…
As Johnny’s thoughts raged, he missed the knowing glances coming from the remaining members of Nsync.
“Are you ready to hear about Joey?” Justin asked the manager after watching the older man for several moments. He didn’t feel anger toward the group’s manager for the way his thoughts were probably going…that was just part of the entertainment business, but it did frustrated him that Johnny had seemed to shut down after only hearing about Lance and they hadn’t even heard about Joey’s condition yet.
“Joey will be facing a similar recovery time frame,” Dr. Shannon began. “I just came from recovery and spoke to his surgeon, Miles Matthews and everything looks good. He’ll be facing several weeks of physical therapy once the bandages come off.”
The doctor motioned for JC to stretch out his hand for the next several minutes, JC’s right hand served as his model as he carefully explained the surgical procedure that Joey had undergone.
“What happens next?” Chris asked the doctor bringing him back from his thoughts of the trauma center.
“Next…Joey will need to recover from his surgery. Although the tendons in his right hand weren’t damaged too heavily, he’ll still need time to mend.”
“Which means?” JC said as he motioned for the doctor to continue.
“Which means Joey will be out of action for some time…probably about five to six weeks. He’ll need physical therapy to regain the strength in his hand, but Dr. Matthews didn’t seem to think that there would be any lasting damage to his hand.
Dr. Shannon and the group spent several more minutes discussing Joey and Lance’s conditions until the doctor’s phone rang.
He excused himself and answered it.
“Well…who’s ready to visit with Lance and Joey?” Dr. Shannon asked then smiled at the enthusiastic response from the group.
“They’re together in the same room on the top floor,” the doctor said as he ushered the group out of his office and down the corridor to the elevators.
“The penthouse,” Chris said with a small smile. “Joey called it the penthouse when you and J were here,” he explained to JC and the rest of the group.
With sad smiles, each of the guys realized that they were once again faced with the task of visiting members of their group as they lay in the hospital and that was not a comforting thought at all for any of them.