I'll Cry Instead

Chapter 9

Two days later, Paul was released from the hospital. The doctor had given the other Beatles and Brian explicit instructions on how to care for Paul, and they had nodded in response, even though they were very worried, especially with the doctor's last instruction.

What was the last instruction, you ask? Well, it was rather bothersome, and it had emerged from the happenings of the first night of Paul's hospital stay when the other three lads had decided to follow Paul's wishes and go back to the hotel.

They had thought he would be alright, as he had promised them, but, that lonesome night, the poor bassist couldn't have been farther from alright.

After John, George, and Ringo had gone, a young nurse had been directed to stay with the lad just in case anything should happen. After all, he was Paul McCartney the famous Beatle.

Everything had been going smoothly. Paul hadn't stirred at all. In fact, he actually looked very peaceful and relaxed, as the nurse had noted before glancing back down at her paperback.

And then it happened.

A spike in Paul's heart rate was the first thing to draw the nurse's attention from her novel, for the heart monitor had begun to beep furiously.

Immediately, she jumped up from her chair and tried vigorously to figure out what was wrong with her famous patient.

He was thrashing violently and one of his slender hands came dangerously close to her delicate profile. It was then she knew he was too worked up to be stopped by her alone.

"Doctor!" she called out as she ran to the door, in pursuit of much-needed help.

Almost instantaneously, the doctor and a team of medical staff rushed into the room, quite worried and anxious, seeing that The Paul McCartney needed help...and fast.

"What's the matter with him, Nurse?" the doctor asked her as he began to examine Paul, as well as he could that is, for Paul wouldn't stay still at all.

"I don't know!" she answered, quite obviously distressed as she put a hand to her mouth worriedly. "At first he was sleeping soundly and now he's like this!"

The doctor, having not received any useful information from the nurse, just kept his attention on Paul. He applied his stethoscope to Paul's chest, which was rapidly moving up and down and checked Paul's sweaty head for fever. Cold to the touch it was, surprisingly.

Just when the doctor thought he couldn't find out the cause of Paul's sudden episode, the Beatle began to shout out.

"Help! Please don't hurt me! No!" he screamed as he tossed his perspiring head to and fro.

"He's having a nightmare," one nurse noted quite pointlessly.

The doctor, ignoring her too, decided the obvious: he needed to wake Paul up. He took the bassist's bony shoulders and began to shake him.

"Mr. McCartney! Wake up!" he shouted as Paul fought against his grip. "You're dreaming!"

"No!" Paul protested, his eyes still clenched shut in utter fear.

"Paul!" one of the nurses tried as she too shook the Beatle, but the only thing that came of that was Paul's left hand whacking her in the mouth.

"That does it!" the doctor huffed. "Give him two milligrams of Lorazepam!"

"Yes, Doctor," a nurse nodded as she fetched the sedative.

Just then, Paul's eyes flew opened, looking so frenetic he was scaring one of the younger nurses, who was a Beatles fan herself.