MJ, seated at Daisy’s side, looked over her shoulder. “She’s hanging in there. What did the doctor say?”
“He asked about an advance directive.”
“Oh, Shane.”
“It’s bad.” He told her about the CT scan and Dr. Sethi’s assessment. “I didn’t sign the DNR. I just can’t. Not yet.”
MJ rose to her feet and hugged him hard. He clung to her, drinking in the kindness and strength that were uniquely hers.
After a minute, she leaned back and looked into his eyes. “There’s still hope, right? We believe in a big God. He answers prayers. He hears us.”
“Yes. But sometimes God says no.”
A soft breath leaked from her lips. “Do you want to talk about it? I mean, the DNR?”
“No. Just pray for me—and for Daisy. I’m staying all night. If you’d like to get some sleep, you can Uber to my apartment.”
She gave him the same strong look she used on Cody. “There’s no way I’ll leave you now.” But then her eyes flared wide with doubt. “Unless that’s what you want.”
“No!” He hauled her into his arms and held tight. “Stay. Please. I need you.” Love for her swamped him, strengthened him, and made him brave.
The two of them kept up the vigil all night long. Sometimes they talked to Daisy, and sometimes to each other. Shane told his sister he loved her and was proud of her, but he doubted she could hear him. He and MJ prayed, dozed, and talked about hope, heaven, and everything in between. No matter how hard he tried to face the facts, he couldn’t bring himself to sign the DNR.
Was life worth the fight, when heaven promised bliss in the presence of a loving God? On the other hand, God was in the business of healing. Shane wanted that healing for Daisy in the here-and-now.
Shortly before dawn, Nina asked them to leave so that the staff could take care of Daisy’s physical needs in private. He and MJ wandered to a room full of vending machines. Front and center, Fig Newtons sat at a jaunty angle on a metal curlicue. Choking up, he bought them and put them in his pocket. He and MJ wolfed down sandwiches, then returned to Daisy’s room.
She was alone, propped on the bed raised to a 45-degree angle, and covered with a white sheet. A serene expression graced her bruised face, but she hadn’t moved or opened her eyes. Afraid, he glanced at the monitors. The blood pressure numbers were the only ones he understood, and they were 88/57—low and dropping fast. His gaze went to the cardiac monitor, where he saw uneven changes.
Nina pushed through the door, a vial of medicine and a syringe in hand. She went straight to Daisy’s IV. “This is for her blood pressure.” She pushed the liquid into the plastic line, then watched the monitor.
The numbers went up a bit and stabilized, and the heart rhythm settled into a regular pattern. But for how long? Shane’s heart wedged high in his throat and stayed there.
Nina checked wires and the IV bags. Before she finished, Daisy’s blood pressure plummeted a second time.
Shane grabbed MJ’s hand and squeezed. No! No! No! He tried to pray, but no words formed. All he could do was watch the amber numbers on the monitor flash a warning, then turn red.
A man in maroon scrubs strode through the door with a second vial. He administered the medicine while speaking to Nina. “I called Dr. Sethi. He’s on his way from the ER.”
Shane stared hard at the blood pressure numbers, half listening as the nurses used words like pneumothorax and embolism. Daisy was either fighting for her life or preparing to surrender forever.
Shaking all over, he pulled MJ tightly to his side. “Should I sign it?” He meant the DNR.
Turning, she laid a hand on his arm. “I’ve been thinking—no, praying—about it. No one can decide for you, Shane. If it were my mom, I’d sign it. It’s what she would want. But if it were Cody, I don’t think I could.”
The blood pressure numbers were higher now—a lot higher. Maybe too high. The male nurse left, but Nina stayed.
A rivulet of drool spilled from Daisy’s swollen lips. MJ checked with Nina, then dabbed at his sister’s mouth with a tissue, talking to her as if she were Cody.
Shane dug his hands into his pockets, a helpless gesture, until his fingers collided with the Fig Newtons. A small offering, but it was all he had. Stepping forward, he laid the cookies in Daisy’s palm, curled her fingers around them, and willed her to open her eyes. “Daisy, talk to me. Please.”
No answer.
He covered her limp hand with his. “I am so sorry for how I treated you. Lyn said you forgave me. I don’t see how, but I’m grateful.” He rambled a little more, telling her what Lyn had shared with him. “I love you, Daisy. And I’m proud of you.”
Her fingers twitched on the Fig Newtons.
“Daisy?”
Her eyes popped open, but could she see him? Her pupils were huge and black. She blinked and he thought he saw recognition. Or was it merely a reflex? He couldn’t tell, but her fingers tightened on the cookies. The plastic wrap crackled, and she looked at him—really looked at him. In slow motion, her mouth formed a smile. She tried to say his name, but nothing came out of her dry throat.
“Daisy! It’s me. I’m here.” Tears ran down his cheeks in a flood of blessing. Hope . . . He clung to it, savored it, dared to believe that Daisy would live.
He glanced at MJ, expecting to share the glory, but her eyes were wide and riveted to the monitors. Nina hurried past him to the door, opened it, and shouted something he couldn’t take in.
And then it happened—the moment he feared in the depths of his soul. The cardiac monitor flatlined.
Chapter 30
Shane’s blood seemed to freeze in his veins. To have hope given and then snatched away was a cruel hoax. Who wanted to worship a God who would do such a thing? The DNR flashed in his mind.
Nina raced back into the room, lowered the bed to make Daisy lie flat, knelt on the mattress, and started CPR.
Dr. Sethi strode into the room with the male nurse on his heels. A woman in royal blue scrubs arrived with a cart holding vials of medicine, needles, patches, and a defibrillator.
The doctor’s gaze stayed on Daisy’s slack face. “Epinephrine one milligram, please.”
Fearing someone would tell him to leave, Shane pulled MJ into the far corner of the room. Huddled together, they watched like flies on the wall.
Nina, still kneeling on the bed, counted the compressions out loud. With each push, Daisy’s feet jerked off the mattress. The male nurse intubated her and squeezed air into her lungs with a balloon of sorts. A third nurse arrived and went to the side of the bed opposite Nina. Words flew around the room, yet the atmosphere remained controlled and oddly calm.
Shane held MJ tight, shielding her face against his shoulder while he stared at the activity around Daisy’s bed, his mental chaos and their professional calm colliding as the staff did their jobs. After two minutes, Nina stopped the CPR at Dr. Sethi’s command.
Nina and the other nurse each took Daisy’s pulse. The cardiac monitor blipped once, twice, then flatlined again. The male nurse took Nina’s place and restarted the compressions. He was tall and didn’t need to kneel on the bed. Instead he loomed over Daisy, pressing hard and fast on her broken ribs, crushing them even more.
Shane buried his face in MJ’s hair, but he still saw Daisy’s body under assault. “I just can’t let her go. Is that wrong?”
MJ clung to him, squeezing hard as if she could infuse him with fresh hope, maybe peace. But she couldn’t. He dragged his gaze to the heart monitor. When the nurse paused the compressions, the flat line jumped on its own and didn’t stop. But even to Shane’s untrained eye, the pattern looked wrong.
“We have V-tach.” Dr. Sethi spoke like a robot. “Defibrillator, please.”
A female tech pulled up Daisy’s gown, revealing the black-and-blue mottling covering her torso. Shane blanched at the sight of the bruising, and though it was impossible, he wished he could take her place.
A tech put two large white patche
s on Daisy’s middle. Dr. Sethi shouted, “Clear!” and everyone stepped back from the bed. The defibrillator beeped a warning, then her body jerked as if she’d been kicked. The cardiac monitor went dead again, blipped once, twice, a third time. The lines were ragged now, different sizes, and too fast.
“We have V-fib,” Dr. Sethi announced. “Clear!” The monitor blipped for a minute, then flatlined.
Dr. Sethi looked straight at Shane, waited three seconds, then gave the order to continue CPR.
The third nurse pulled out a stool from under the bed, stood on it for leverage, crossed her hands on Daisy’s chest, and pumped hard and fast. With each compression, Daisy’s body jerked like a rag doll. The medical team spoke in calm tones—words about lab results, medications, procedures, things that could mean life for Daisy—or more suffering.
Time mattered. And it was running out.
Shane thought of her broken ribs and bruises, the damaged butterfly of her brain, and in his heart, he knew what he had to do. It was time to let her go. If she lost this battle, heaven awaited—that better place where there was no more suffering.
Calm beyond all reason, he broke from MJ’s arms, faced the bed, and spoke in a clear voice. “Stop. Please. My sister’s been hurt enough. I’ll sign the DNR.”
The medical staff looked to Dr. Sethi, who nodded. Someone handed Shane a clipboard and he signed the DNR form. The medical team filtered out of the room, but Nina and Dr. Sethi remained.
Shane reached back for MJ’s hand, and they approached Daisy together. The monitor blipped once, twice, then stopped and started again. No one moved. No one breathed. Shane clung to Daisy with one hand and MJ with the other. The decision was made, and he was at peace. No one would bully his little sister back to life.
He let go of MJ just long enough to wipe away his tears, clung to her again, then spoke the only words that remained. “I love you, Daisy. I want you to live. But if it’s time for you to leave, I understand. The decision to fight is yours alone.”
Somehow Daisy could see herself on the bed. Her face was a mess. Not pretty at all, but she felt utterly beautiful on the inside. She wanted to dance and laugh and even sing, something she never could do very well. A joy unlike anything she had ever imagined flooded her entire being.
She saw Shane standing at the side of her bed. Next to him was the woman Daisy knew to be MJ. They were clinging to each other and sobbing. Daisy felt bad about that. If Shane knew how wonderful she felt, he’d be happy for her.
A male voice came out of nowhere. “Daisy?”
In the corner of the room she spotted the empty chair from her bedroom at Maggie’s House—except it wasn’t empty anymore. A man sat in it. His eyes defied being labeled a single color, or maybe they were all colors. His clothing, though, was ordinary, the kinds of things she sorted at Mary’s Closet—worn Levis, a white shirt with long, rolled-up sleeves, and a pair of brown leather flip-flops.
Her eyes riveted to the scars on his feet. As she looked up, he turned his hands to display the nail marks on his palms.
Somehow her body coalesced into a flesh-and-blood woman, and she landed on her knees at the foot of the chair, her neck bent, and her hair falling to make a curtain of sorts. She wanted to soak in the splendor forever—to blend into it, to become it. Heaven . . . She was going to see it!
The man in the chair touched her chin with his index finger, gently lifting her face.
The light was too strong, too revealing . . . too good. She didn’t deserve to gaze into the ocean of his eyes, let alone to dive in and swim. But somehow she felt welcomed, as if unseen angels were rejoicing on her behalf.
The hospital ceiling dissolved into a perfect blue sky. A seagull circled overhead, spiraling higher and higher. Daisy’s soul soared with the bird, but then she looked down and saw Shane. He was seated next to the bed, head down with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. A tortured moan crawled out of his throat, a sound she hadn’t heard since their mother’s death. MJ stood slightly behind him, her hand on his shoulder, weeping with him while she kissed the top of his head.
The man in the chair—Jesus, she knew that with certainty—cupped the back of her head. An indescribable light flooded through her, wordless, yet conveying that she stood on the edge of eternity. Was it her time to leave this life? She yearned to bask in the bright light, to step deeper into the glory, but then she recalled Shane and MJ grieving for her, clinging to each other. Somehow she saw Lyn driving back to the hospital, pleading with God for Daisy’s life. More prayers reached her ears. Her friends at Maggie’s House were begging for her life as well.
Daisy felt loved, cared for, and most of all, wanted by people she loved now and people she would love in the future.
Humbled, she raised her face to her Savior. An ocean of love washed over her, and she realized there was nothing to fear. Her life was in his hands and she was safe. Heaven promised eternal bliss, but living meant love—for Jesus, her family and friends, and countless others she had yet to meet.
Yearning to please her Lord, she bowed her head in joyful surrender to his will. There were no decisions to be made; nothing to do except rejoice as his hand came to rest on the left side of her head, his fingers splayed over the wound. Tinging heat poured into her skull, swirled between her ears, then eased into a gentle warmth that stopped short of touching her cheeks. As the heat faded, Daisy raised her head and looked up. The blue sky morphed back into ceiling panels, and somehow gravity pulled her to the bed.
Her hands and feet warmed up first, then her legs, her shoulders, and finally her chest. Her heart took a beat, then settled into a strong, steady rhythm. Pain skewered her, but her head didn’t hurt at all. Her thoughts were perfectly clear, including the vivid memory of the radiant light.
She pried her eyes open, blinking to focus until her gaze narrowed on Shane’s face. He was on his feet, staring down at her, calling her name just like when she was small and wandered too far. MJ stood next to him, her mouth agape and her eyes brimming with tears.
Dr. Sethi took her pulse, while the nice nurse named Nina, the one who had prayed for her when they were alone—Daisy knew that now—pressed her hands to her cheeks in shock.
Daisy blinked again, reached for Shane’s hand, and stared into those blue eyes that were the same color as hers. “You found me.”
“Oh, Daisy—”
“I’m back,” she whispered. “I’m—I’m alive, right?”
“Yes,” Shane said through his own tears. “You’re alive.”
Overwhelmed, she let out a shuddering sigh. The journey ahead wouldn’t be easy, but she wouldn’t be walking the road alone. Jesus would be with her every step of the way, and so would Shane and MJ.
MJ couldn’t believe her eyes—or her ears. Daisy had spoken in a voice as clear as her own. Dr. Sethi stepped to the side of the bed, checked Daisy’s pupils with a penlight, then asked her if she knew her name and where she was.
Daisy answered both questions, though she had no memory of the assault or the day prior to it. Dr. Sethi assured her that was typical. When he asked about her pain level on a scale of one to ten, she answered with eight. Nina left to retrieve pain medicine. The doctor stayed at Daisy’s side, talking to her and assessing her, until Nina returned and administered the pain medication. A minute later, a man in scrubs arrived with a portable CT machine.
MJ watched with Shane as the tech performed the scan. Dr. Sethi checked it, then motioned them both over to view it.
“What do you see?” he asked.
MJ didn’t know much about CT scans, but the sides of Daisy’s brain looked identical.
Shane squeezed her hand hard, then answered the doctor. “What I don’t see is that white crescent.”
“It’s gone.” Dr. Sethi turned to Daisy. “I cannot explain what happened just now, except that the human body possesses a remarkable capacity to heal.”
Daisy just smiled. The pain medicine was making her groggy, but she whispered a few words.
“Call Lyn, okay? Tell her I’m all right. And thank her . . . for everything.”
With that, she dozed off.
Dr. Sethi urged them to let Daisy rest. As he departed, Shane told Daisy that they’d be back soon, squeezed her hand, then turned away and suggested to MJ that they go back to his apartment.
A little rest sounded wonderful after all they’d been through. When she nodded, Shane fetched their luggage from the spot against the wall. At the door, MJ turned and saw Daisy sleeping peacefully. She shared a smile with Shane, and they left the ICU together.
MJ was reaching for her phone to call Lyn, when the elevator doors slid open. Lyn stepped out, saw them, and pressed her hand to her chest. “Daisy. How is she?”
“Alive.” Grinning, Shane let go of the suitcase handle but kept his duffle bag on his shoulder. “She’s awake and talking.”
Lyn’s jaw dropped nearly to the floor.
“It’s true,” MJ added. “I can hardly believe what just happened.” Daisy, though, was only part of the miracle. In the middle of the fear and Shane’s uncertainty, MJ had made a discovery of her own about the man she loved. She had something important to say and could hardly wait to say it.
She listened and nodded while Shane told Lyn the story—everything from Daisy flatlining to witnessing the return of her healthy heartbeat. “She has a lot ahead of her, but she also has us.” He looped his free arm around MJ’s waist.
She leaned against him, cherishing every word.
Lyn glanced down the hall to the ICU door. “Would it be all right if I stole a peek at her?”
“Definitely,” Shane replied. “You’re family.”
They said their good-byes, and Lyn walked down the hall, her heels clacking as always.
Shane moved to push the elevator button, but MJ gripped his hand, took her own suitcase, and tugged him down the hall. “This way.”
When He Found Me (Road to Refuge Book 1) Page 30
