Will Mikey survive?
“Hey, Eddie,” Bob called as he entered the room. “Don’t worry, they’ll be okay.”
The tour manager glanced up, his expression showed he wanted to say something, but was uncertain how to broach the subject. The cell phone still in his hand gave away more than he realised.
“Mikey and Frank?” Bob asked hesitantly.
Eddie nodded. “They… Frank’s okay, he’s coming in now.”
“Mikey?” Bob asked with urgency in his tone.
“He’s in a bad way, they’re prepping an operating room now.”
“What happened to him?”
Eddie shook his head. “I don’t know. Silburn called, he just said that Mikey collapsed shortly after they found him; a nurse told me the rest.”
Bob flopped down on the sofa next to Eddie, stunned by the news.
“They’re coming in now?”
“And Frank’s okay?”
Bob sat forward, resting his forehead in his hands. “Mikey’ll be okay, he has to be.”
Patting Bob’s back gently, Eddie sighed. “We’ll know more soon.”
Only a few minutes later, a nurse entered the room and both Bob and Eddie looked up expectantly.
“The ambulance has arrived, they had to take Mister Way straight down to the O.R. but Mister Iero is with a doctor now, you should be able to see him soon.”
“How is he?” asked Bob.
The nurse offered a sympathetic smile. “The doctor will tell you more, but physically, he seems fine. Obviously he’s very upset and shaken. I’ll let you know when you can see him.”
“Thanks,” Bob replied quietly.
“I’m fine!” Frank insisted again. “Stop fussing over me and take care of Mikey!”
The doctor sat back and frowned.
“Mister Iero, there is, in fact, more than one doctor in this hospital and there are currently several of them taking very good care of your friend.”
“Several? Is it that bad?”
The doctor pursed his lips. “He’s got some internal bleeding. From what I understand, the fact that he didn’t stand up for several hours after the beating delayed the tearing of the blood vessels.”
“You mean being chained up saved his life?”
“Tell me you mean ‘possibly’ as in he… you can… he’ll be…” Frank couldn’t say the words, no matter how hard he tried.
“We’ll know more in a couple of hours,” the doctor replied carefully. “Once he’s out of the O.R., he’ll be taken to the Critical Care Unit and then it’s just waiting.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Frank asked, his head swimming. “Blood! You can have as much of my blood as you need!”
The doctor nodded and smiled. “We have plenty and you need what you have at the moment. Now, I guess you’ll want to visit Mister Toro and the other Mister Way? There are two others here waiting too, I’m afraid I don’t know…”
“Visit?” Frank’s eyes widened. “They’re here? I mean admitted? I was told they were fine!”
“Ah,” the doctor paused. “Well don’t worry, they will be fine, they’re recovering nicely. Mister Toro received a blow to the head; he’s just in for observation. What were you told about the guy who took you?”
“We were told he’s dead; he crashed his car. That’s not true?”
“It is true, he died jumping from the car, but he left Mister Way trapped inside. He’s hurt, but like I said, he’s recovering just fine.”
Frank’s shoulders sagged.
“Please tell me Bob’s alright.”
“Our drummer, tall, blond, got a beard.”
The doctor smiled and nodded. “He’s in the waiting room with another man, I’ll take you to them.”
Two hours slipped by agonisingly slowly and even then there was still no word from the surgeons. The room was silent and tense. Occasionally one man would look to another and receive a reassuring nod or smile, but there was little else they could really do.
“I feel bad not visiting Gee,” Frank finally broke the silence. “But if he sees me, he’ll want to know about Mikey.”
Bob nodded. “I know, we should wait, there’s no point worrying him over nothing.”
“It’s hardly nothing.” Frank grumbled.
“You know I didn’t mean that,” Bob sighed, too exhausted to even bother arguing.
“Yeah, I know, I’m just really stressed. And before you say, I know you are too, but with me, it can make me a little hypersensitive.”
“Frankie, everything about you is hyper-something,” replied Bob, offering a kind smile.
Frank returned the smile. “I guess.”
As one the three men rose quickly to their feet as a surgeon entered the waiting room. Staring expectantly, all three held the words they wanted to say until finally, Frank posed the question.
“Mikey? Is he… okay?”
The surgeon nodded and smiled faintly. “He’s stable, but he’s lost a lot of blood and he’s very weak, but he’s a fighter. We’ve moved him to the Critical Care Unit, but don’t be worried by the name, or by how he looks when you see him. He’s connected up to a lot of machines and blood and saline drips, but, trust me, it looks worse than it is. He’s going to be just fine.”
The relief that washed over the three men was immeasurable.
“When can we see him?” asked Frank immediately.
“You can see him now, one at a time for five minutes only, but he won’t be aware, he’s only just woken up from the procedure.”
“That’s okay!” Bob decided for all of them. “We just want to see him, with our own eyes, you know?”
The surgeon nodded. “Of course, follow me.”