“You? Wait.” Elana blinked and shook her head. “Why wouldn’t you…”
“Because you scare me,” Daveigh replied, tears streaming down her face. “All of us are terrified of you. Blue said she was pregnant, so I wouldn’t have to deal with your reaction.”
Elana swallowed hard. “I’ll be back.”
“Didn’t you hear what I said. Blue isn’t the one who’s pregnant!” Daveigh sobbed.
The momster approach the nurse’s station, determination on her face. “I want to speak to the head of the hospital. Right now.”
Like sun breaking through the clouds, a fog lifted. It may have taken me longer than anyone else, but I realized who laid on the hospital bed down the hall.
It was me.
* * *
I walked down a corridor, hurrying to locate my mom. After four tries, I finally found her. She sat on a leather couch, wringing her hands. Like always, she wore a sensible knee-length skirt and blazer.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Elana. It’s been chaotic around here, and we’re understaffed. What can I do for you?” The name placard on her desk read: “Andrea Marks – Dean of Medicine.”
“My daughter—”
“I’ll stop you right there. You know I’m not at liberty to discuss the condition of patients who are over the age of eighteen without consent, medical release, or a POA. Do you have any of those with you?”
“No, but…” Elana straightened out her skirt. “Look, I know she has massive injuries, broken bones, lacerations, and a punctured lung. She was electrocuted and the truck was struck by lightning, which Dr. Kline already told me.”
“Then you already know far more than you should.” Andrea tightened her lips. “And perhaps I should have a chat with Dr. Kline to revisit our confidentiality policies.”
My mother’s voice intensified. “What I do know is the condition of this hospital is under scrutiny. Its future is uncertain if something doesn’t happen soon in regard to cash flow. It doesn’t take a crystal ball to illustrate that. I’ve seen the reports.”
The head of the hospital folded her hands on her desk and looked at my mother. “Did you come here to tell me the fate of the building or did you want something else?”
“Save. My daughter.”
She let out a deep breath and placed the cap back on the pen she held. “There are HIPAA rules, and I shouldn’t even be discussing this with you right now.” She got up to ensure the door was fully closed. “Blue underwent a lot of stress during the accident. Her heart is considerably weak.”
“How…weak?”
“With her laundry list of injuries, it isn’t functioning properly without the support of the machines she’s hooked up to.”
My mother covered her mouth with a shaky hand, her eyes closing. “Well, the answer is clear as day to me. Find her a new one.”
The Dean of Medicine rubbed her temples. “It’s not that simple, Elana. Human hearts aren’t available in a vending machine for $1 apiece in the nurse’s station. There are rules. A transplant list. Strict protocols. Paperwork. Regions across the United States. Whoever fits the criteria and is at the top of that list is eligible and has first option.”
“This is my daughter here, Andrea. Do something.”
“I understand that, but my hands are tied. This is a hospital, not a negotiating board to prove how far up the political ladder you’re sitting.”
“What if I told you I had access to money? Five million dollars. A sum like that’d do wonders for your uncompensated care program and would ensure you more time to try and save your beloved hospital. Jesus, keep it for yourself. I’ll never know.”
Andrea hesitated.
“Your job is on the line next quarter. We both know there isn’t another care center in the area, and no one can get in or out of this town with this storm. It’s been two days. Bridges are unsafe. Parts of the highway have eroded into the ocean. Cell services are sketchy. And helicoptering a heart out of Steele Falls is going to be risky as hell in weather like this. No one’s going to take that on. The road to Aberdeen and the 101 are washed out in multiple places. It’s all over the news.”
“It’s not ethical. Twenty people die each day waiting for a vital organ.”
My mother stood up and jabbed a finger toward the window. “Who gives a flying fuck about God damned ethics? Come on! Someone has to be close to kicking the bucket around here!”
Another round of thunder and lightning sounded outside, illuminating the room briefly. The dark shadows mingling with the brevity in bright lighting made my mother look like the Devil herself.
Andrea lowered her voice. “There have been eight traffic accidents in Steele Falls from this storm. Two are minor, three are severe, and three are critical.”
“And?” my mother asked.
“One of the critical ones, a John Doe, recently underwent a test on his brain stem reflexes. There’s no indication of higher brain function. The patient is currently undergoing a formal brain-death eval with a second physician. It’s not looking good.”
“Is that patient a donor…and a match to Blue?” My mother looked hopeful.
Andrea chuckled at Elana’s stupidity. “We don’t have confirmation on his name yet, whether he’s a donor or not, or whether he’s going to make it. Don’t get your hopes up. You’ve got a better chance of being struck by…sorry. Bad comparison considering the circumstances.”
My mother winced.
“Besides, to start there’s blood testing, HLA typing, and cross-match testing that have to occur. And that’s saying the results for the brain eval prove the patient won’t survive. He has to be a donor. Once the heart is removed, it has to be examined to determine whether it’s healthy enough. There are so many legalities and complications with what you’re asking me to consider…”
My mother sat there, still.
“Immunosuppressants haven’t been administered. She hasn’t undergone the required physical, emotional, or psychological testing. Discussing this is asinine.”
“How do you want her to undergo some of those tests? That’s what’s asinine.” My mother gestured toward the hallway. “How is that even possible when she’s unconscious!”
“Do you have any idea how much paperwork goes into this? The number of forms that need signatures? And the required approvals? Decisions like this are well aren’t my jurisdiction and—”
“I have no doubt you have the appropriate connections.”
“And the forms?”
“Forge them.”
“I could face jail time. Forgery is illegal, Elana.”
My mother nudged a pen across Andrea’s desk slowly. “It isn’t if you’re not caught.”
Everything went dark again.
* * *
I woke up and my eyes felt like they were coated with sand. Yet, it oddly didn’t hurt. Nothing did. The world was blurry and I was so tired. It was a momentary attempt. Keeping them open was impossibly exhausting.
I didn’t know the time.
I didn’t know the day.
I didn’t know the setting.
Wires and beeping machines surrounded me. Everything else was a thick, heavy blanket of nothingness.
In the distance, I could hear Daveigh’s voice and then a hand gripped mine. “Blue?” My sister’s voice was soft.
I tried to open my mouth, but realized there something keeping me from doing it. There was a tube in my throat. Speaking was impossible. What’s wrong with me?
“Can she hear us, Dr. Lee?” Daveigh asked.
A male voice replied, “No. The sedatives we use are strong, and she won’t come to until they wear off.”
“Don’t try to talk,” Daveigh shushed me anyway, although under the impression I couldn’t hear a word she said. “You were in
a bad accident.”
I felt panic creeping through my veins. Wasn’t it all a dream? Please, let it have been a dream.
“It’s going to be okay though,” Daveigh’s voice wavered as she sniffled. “I promise. You won’t be able to talk for a little while because of the breathing machine. You’ve been sedated and in a coma for a while.”
Another voice sounded. One that was familiar and stern. “When will she be able to go home?” It was the momster.
“There are still too many extenuating factors to speculate,” Dr. Lee said. “Heterotopic procedures aren’t commonly performed.”
Heterotopic? What did that mean?
“You can’t give me an estimate?” my mother demanded.
Dr. Lee’s voice remained calm. “She’s not a car that underwent a simple oil change. Her heart was heavily damaged in the accident. And it was a one in a million shot everything aligned with the transplant. I don’t think you understand that.” He paused. “You should consider yourself one lucky woman.”
Aligned? What was wrong with my heart?
“It still baffles me,” Daveigh said. “I can’t believe the surgeon took a second heart and placed it on top of hers. The vessels and chambers can all connect? It’s crazy.”
What is she talking about?
Then, there was another voice I recognized. Finn. “What’s a damn miracle is one of the top cardiac surgeons works in this hospital.” The emotion in his voice intensified, “I’m going to change my flight. I can’t leave her in this condition. What if…”
Somber silence filled the air.
A pager beeped and Dr. Lee spoke, “That’s my cue, they need me in the OR. If you two need anything, they can help you at the nurse’s station down the hall.”
“Thank you,” Daveigh paused, “for everything.”
The door clicked shut.
Next, my mother spoke again. “It’s almost three, and I have a teleconference scheduled with Harold in five minutes. If she wakes up, don’t tell her about what happened to Adam.”
Wait. What’s wrong with Adam? I’m so confused, and everything’s hazy.
“And don’t you dare mention a word about the surgeon using his heart in the transplant to save her life. She’ll thank me for the strings I pulled someday.”
Adam? Adam who? Not my Adam. No! No, no, no!
My head tried to loll to the right and left. It couldn’t be.
I heard them wrong. He wouldn’t leave. He wouldn’t do that to me. He’s a fighter! Keep fighting for me. For us!
My chest clenched, the sudden onset of pain tremendous.
Adam! Don’t you dare check out on me! Not now. Not after finding you again. After everything we’ve…
An endless beep sounded as the door burst open, the sound of many footsteps scurrying around. “Quick! She’s crashing!”
They say time heals all wounds, but that’s a lie. All it does is draw out the pain. The most heart-wrenching goodbyes are the unexpected ones. There’s no chance to prepare. There’s no opportunity to reconcile. There’s no risk taken, to make the most of every moment beforehand. Everything stops abruptly and turns into a flawlessly dark vortex of nothingness. Nothing to cling to. Nothing to grasp. Falling into endless sorrow. Grief, it had no expiration date. My repaired heart was broken, each breath in my lungs an agonizing undertaking, but no one else could fathom what the frigidity felt like.
For me, time had stopped. There would be no more beginnings and no more endings. All that remained was being lumped uselessly somewhere in the middle—left behind to simply exist.
Adam lied to me. “Nothing can keep me away,” he replied before hanging up. But something did keep him from me, and it wasn’t fair. Those words played on repeat in my head like a broken record.
My hospital stay was a blur. How much time ticked by? Days. Weeks. I still wasn’t sure, and I didn’t ask. More honestly, I didn’t care. Tests. X-rays. Scans. Poking. Prodding. I was numb to the core from all of it. Fucking irrevocably numb. I’d become a zombie, but the ironic part was the heart in my chest continued to beat.
At first, I thought it was a nightmare. Somehow, Adam would rub his face against my cheek and run his hands over my body to wake me up. I’d be able to feel the beat of his heart when I rested my head on his chest, and everything would be okay. Except it wouldn’t be.
I was already awake.
I was already devastated.
All because I was already able to feel the beat of his heart. Every damn thud. Yet, he was nowhere nearby.
* * *
For weeks, I’d stayed with Daveigh while I recovered—for lack of a better word. But there was no recovering from what I’d undergone. Finn stayed as long as he could, dragging his heels until he was satisfied with the doctor’s prognosis. The moment his flight took off, my heart broke all over again. Much like when I was with Cash, I was still the loser. There was no trophy in sight.
I’d lost everything. Every damn thing.
Not allowed to leave.
Not allowed to drive.
Not allowed to go for a walk alone.
Not allowed to have a private moment to myself.
Not allowed to love and be loved in return.
After too many rounds of pleading and begging for days on end, Daveigh gave in and acquiesced to the one favor I wanted. It would both break and destroy, but it was what I needed. For me.
An hour later, she drove her car up alongside Adam’s house and pulled the keys from the ignition. The driftwood perimeter we constructed was still there. The porch he’d built looked the same. The glittering glass from the smashed beer bottle sparkled on the ground. His ghost was everywhere. In the walls. Beneath my feet. Tangled into the air.
My breath hitched when I saw a green bicycle on the porch with neon spokes on the wheels. A giant, red bow made it impossibly perfect, yet it’d already been rendered useless. “I need to go in alone.” I stared at the tag dangling on the string, affixed to the shiny handlebars. It’d remain forever new. My heart shattered all over again in that isolated moment.
“Blue, I don’t think going in by yourself is a good idea.” She reached over the console and touched my arm.
“Give,” I closed my eyes, “me a few minutes. Please?”
Reluctantly, my sister nodded. “I’ll wait on the steps, but if you don’t come out in five, I’m coming in.”
My body was still considerably weak, Daveigh taking it upon herself to act as my crutch up to the porch. I pulled the spare set of keys from my pocket and unlocked the door. Silence had never been so loud as when I walked into that house. Utter stillness. The chili I’d heated was wrapped up on the table. Glasses of wine remained full. Brownies uneaten. A romantic dinner awaited that would never come to be. Everything was the same, except for one gaping, cavernous hole in my life.
Acidic guilt flooded my veins with every beat of Adam’s heart. I was sickened by all of it. My mother had connections at the local bank. The money I’d received from the inheritance was gifted to someone at the hospital, used to buy my life and sell Adam’s—regardless of his prognosis. I didn’t want any of Tom’s guilt-laced money. Not a God damned penny. Yet, the fact remained it was thievery in so many fucked up ways.
With shaky steps, I walked across the room and sat on the floor. Summoning enough bravery to pull out the shoebox and lifting the lid sent tears to my eyes. Fully intact. I’m not sure why I expected otherwise. My chest threatened to explode as I pulled out the velvet box and shakily slid the ring on my finger. The band was cold as I rubbed it with my thumb, knowing Adam once touched it. The bond I ached, longed, and hoped for was absent.
I stood up and walked over to the kitchen table, trailing my fingers over the foil on one of the bowls. A surge of anger rushed through me before I could try to counter it. I screamed, and
picked up the bowl, lobbing it at the wall with the little strength I had. Jagged pieces of ceramic fell to the floor while a splatter of dark-colored chili marked the wall in an abstract explosion.
Daveigh hurried into the room and skidded to a halt when she saw me.
I stared at the blobs of beans and meat dripping down the wall, unable to make my limbs move. With trembling lips and more tears threatening to spill, I whispered, “I’m so sorry.”
“I’ll take care of that.” She ushered me into a chair. “Sit down.”
It seemed like such a short while ago that I’d giddily waited for Adam to arrive home to sweep me into his arms in only the way he could, kiss me in only the way he could, and love me in only the way he could. I’d be left hollow and unfulfilled for any of that love, craving it, needing it. Being let down.
Love.
But… I do want to say something before we hang up, and it needs to be now. I love—”
“No! Not now,” I exclaimed. “Don’t say it.”
I heard the hollowness behind his voice. “Why?”
“Not until you’re here tonight. In person.”
He let out a sigh. “But…”
“Please? Tonight.”
“Fine. You know, I forgot about how stubborn you are.”
“You’re welcome,” I sang with a smile. “See you tonight.”
I’d lost out on the chance to say I loved him. Adam was the only man who’d ever captured my heart, and I couldn’t tell him. Why was I so stupid? He died never hearing those three little words come from my mouth after two years of blanketing silence and doubt. Maybe, if we’d continued the conversation on the phone, or if I’d have caught up to him with his wallet, or if I’d have begged a little harder for him to stay home, the few seconds would’ve made a difference in whether he survived. Instead, I’d be left wondering an endless number of “what ifs”.
Blue Page 35
