Walking through the threshold of her room, nothing the doctor told me could prepare me for what’s before me. There are machines and tubes everywhere. The dull beeping measuring her heart rate is the only thing that doesn’t scare me. As long as that thing keeps chirping, she’s alive. Cautious of all the equipment, I stand next to her bed and take her hand, mindful of the IV on the top.
I vaguely hear the doctor calling for the nurse to bring me a chair. As soon as he’s out of the room and I have some privacy with my aunt, my chest clenches and the emotion I tried so hard to hide pours out. Clasping my hands together, I drop to my knees and pray. I’m not sure what good it will do, but it’s the only logical thing I can think of doing. I’m useless otherwise.
It’s the nurse, a kind elderly woman, who helps me off the ground and into the chair. She whispers in my ear that she’s praying, too, which is actually comforting.
I lay my head on the bed, right next to Elaine’s hand, and continue to beg for God to spare her. She’s not ready. I’m not ready. Just when I think that I can’t experience any more emotions, I start to get angry. I’m remembering all the times I told Elaine that we could use my mom’s money to get us through so she didn’t have to work so hard and pick up extra shifts and side work. I don’t know enough about heart attacks, but I’m sure stress has something to do with it.
In only a few months, Elaine’s life changed so drastically. Never having kids, now she has me to care for. Having to support only herself, she’s now responsible for me, taking on more than she could handle, and it’s all my fault. If I hadn’t done what I did to Tom, my mom wouldn’t have killed herself and Elaine wouldn’t have lost a sister and gained a child.
I don’t try to hold back anything, letting the tears fall freely and sending as many prayers as I possibly can. I’m not aware my swollen eyes closed for a nap until a new doctor comes in the room, followed by a few other younger looking doctors.
“Good afternoon. I’ll be conducting a few tests on Ms. Fields. You’re more than welcome to go to the waiting room or grab something to eat from the cafeteria. We’ll probably be a few hours.”
I guess they’re all supposed to act like robots, free from showing any kind of emotion including sympathy. It’s getting really annoying. Where’s that nice nurse when you need her?
“I’ll go grab something to eat and come back. Thank you.” Walking out of the room, I smile at the elderly nurse on my way out.
Instead of hitting a fast food spot, I decide to go home, make a sandwich and change clothes. Unfortunately, my stomach revolts at the sight of food and it ends up going into the trash. Wanting to get back as quickly as possible, I don’t spend much time screwing around. I’m just about out the door when the phone rings. Running back inside, I answer just before it goes to the answering machine.
“Hello.”
“Rian, sweetheart, it’s Gabriella. I wanted to make sure you and your aunt got invited to our Fourth of July barbecue. I know you remember how much fun we used to have when you and Garrett were little. The fourth is on a Saturday, which makes it perfect. Do you think you can make it?”
“I don’t think so,” I respond, void of any emotion. I guess the doctors know what they’re doing.
“I’m so sorry to hear that. Do you have other plans?” It’s not like Gabriella to pry, so this must really be important to her.
“No, we don’t. I wasn’t going to say anything until I knew more, but Elaine had a heart attack today. I just came home to eat and change clothes. They’re worried about brain damage. I’m headed back to the hospital now, but I don’t think she’ll be in any shape to do anything for a while.”
“Oh, sweetheart. Okay, what do you need me to do? She’s your only family here and you need someone to take care of you. How about you pack a bag and you can stay in the pool house until she’s well enough to come home?”
“That’s very nice of you to offer, but I need to be with Elaine. Hopefully, when I get back the neurologist will tell me she’s perfectly fine and will come home soon. I’ll probably just stay at the hospital with her until she’s discharged. If anything changes, I’ll let you know.”
More than likely, I won’t be sleeping at the hospital, but in my own bed. I don’t know how to tell Gabriella that the pool house reminds me of Garrett and the fact that I don’t have him to lean on. Sleeping on the bed that we shared for a few days, getting all of our firsts out of the way, would only break my heart that I can’t see him now … hold him … have him comfort me. That’s not one of those things you tell your boyfriend’s mom, no matter how cool she is.
“Keep me updated, please. If you need anything, and I mean anything, Rian, you better call me. Don’t let me find out you didn’t.”
“I promise.” We say our goodbyes and I’m off the phone and back at the hospital within fifteen minutes. Record time for evening traffic and my little car that hates all the hills.
I walk into Elaine’s room just as the doctors are finishing up. I’m dreading the news, but I’m hopeful. I’ve said enough prayers for a lifetime; I just hope it wasn’t too late.
“How’s it looking?” I ask, not sure I want to know yet.
“Well, there’s good news and bad. Good news, she’s able to breathe on her own. We took out the tubes and she’s holding steady. Bad news, her brain scans aren’t looking so well. We would have liked to see a much higher number. There’s a slight chance for improvement. The ICU floor will be monitoring her while she’s here and then we’ll scan again in three days.”
“Thank you,” I mutter, not sure if I should start getting excited. He nods, pats my shoulder lightly twice and is out the door with the rest of his minions following close behind.
With the sun starting to set, I pull the blinds closed to avoid the glare that’s nearly blinding, and flip on the television. I figure I’ll spend a few more hours here with Elaine and then head back home to sleep.
I’m about halfway through Jeopardy, answering all the questions correctly of course, when a knock on the door frame startles me out of my winning streak. Ken Jennings, watch your ass. Glancing that way, Gabriella stands tall and poised with a sympathetic smile on her face.
“Mrs. Rhodes, what are you doing here?”
“I’ve known you since you were a little girl and you probably haven’t eaten. When you would get stressed about something, you didn’t take time to make sure you were taken care of. Elaine would kick my butt if I didn’t try,” she says, holding out a plate wrapped in tin foil. “Old habits die hard,” she smirks.
“You’re too good to me.” I accept her offering, pull back the foil and inhale the scent of sweet and sour chicken, my absolute favorite. “You didn’t have to go out of your way, I would have been fine.” Picking up a piece of chicken and dipping it in the sauce, it’s heaven. Pure heaven.
“Paul and I ordered in tonight and there was more than enough for you. Actually, I thought you would take me up on my offer and come to the house. I remembered this was your favorite and thought it might be comforting.”
“It’s delicious,” I say as I shovel some rice into my mouth without shame. This might be the greatest meal I’ve ever had in my life. I didn’t even know I was hungry until I smelled it.
At this moment, I don’t feel alone in the world. Gabriella didn’t have to come down here just to bring me dinner, but she did. She cares for me. Maybe even loves me. At seventeen, I shouldn’t be thinking like this, but knowing that if Garrett and I ever have children, they’ll have a loving grandmother melts my heart. Then again, at seventeen, I shouldn’t have experienced half the stuff I have … and lived to tell the tale. I might not have it so bad.
Patting the seat next to me, I encourage Gabriella to sit down and hang out for a bit. She obliges, picking a piece of chicken off my plate. As Master Chef starts, I feel slightly content, even among the potential tragedy that could take place.
Chapter 11
The last three days have been a series of ups and downs.
The next morning, I arrived back at the hospital and found the breathing tube back. Apparently, Elaine had some complications through the night and wasn’t breathing that well on her own. From everything I’m told, that’s not a good sign. It means there may be some significant damage to one or more parts of her brain.
Gabriella insists on coming with me each day to the hospital, determined to be there for me no matter what I need. It’s comforting, but also a stone cold reminder than it’s not her that I want … it’s her son.
Today is the day that the neurologist will repeat the brain scans, checking for any sign of progress—or decline in function. I’ve been praying non-stop that they’re going to see something that gives us a sign of hope. With so many factors giving us doubt of that fact, it’s really hard to stay optimistic.
“Do you wanna grab some lunch while they do their thing?” Gabriella asks, distracting me from my latest prayer as the team of doctors walk in the room.
“Yeah, I guess we can do that,” I respond, not really wanting to leave the room; I’m not going to be any kind of good company.
The thought of food has my stomach somersaulting. I need to make an effort, though. Gabriella won’t let up until she knows that I’m taking care of myself. Leaving the room, we go to the hospital cafeteria. She must have had the feeling that I wouldn’t want to leave the building, just in case they need me for anything.
Over the next hour, I pick at my salad while Gabriella talks about something I can’t make myself understand. Not because it’s difficult, but my mind is somewhere else. She’s trying to distract me, keeping me focused on something other than the doctors prodding and probing my aunt upstairs. I don’t have the heart to tell her it’s not working. Instead, I smile and nod every few minutes to make her think I’m engaged in the conversation. If there’s a pop quiz at the end, I’m going to be in trouble.
“You still with me, sweetheart?” Gabriella asks. I guess I’m terrible at this pretending to listen game. I’m probably going to want to work on that.
“Yeah, sorry, I’m here. Just thinking.”
“Don’t worry until you have a reason to. Too many times I see people worrying about things they can’t control and that doesn’t do any good for anyone. You wait until those doctors tell you what’s going on with her and then we’ll go from there.”
“You sound just like Garrett,” I say, remembering all the times Garrett’s had to calm me down from something or another. My heart melts, knowing he learned so much of who he is from his mother. If I’m being honest, I’m pretty jealous, too.
“He’s a good boy. Four weeks is gonna go by faster than you think, sweetheart.”
After another twenty minutes of her trying to keep my mind off the inevitable, we’re throwing away our trash and headed back up to Elaine’s room. We have to wait outside for another ten minutes while the doctors finish up and talk about their findings. As hard as I try to listen through the door to what they’re saying, it’s a lost effort. Doctors are excellent at using muffled voices and words that I don’t understand.
When the main doctor finally exits, his face is grim and the few pieces of lettuce I was able to eat at lunch threaten to come back up.
“We’re done with the tests. Would you two please follow me to my office to discuss Ms. Fields’s prognosis?” He doesn’t wait for a response and starts walking away. Gabriella and I trade glances, only to follow him like lost puppies.
He must be one of the big shots at the hospital. As soon as we enter his office, a large mahogany desk sits on the far wall with more plaques and fancy looking pieces of paper behind frames than I can count. Also, these are the kinds of chairs they need in the waiting rooms and for the family to sit in while in the rooms of admitted patients. Large, leather and luxurious are the words that come to mind. Sinking in the one closest to the wall, Gabriella takes hers and grabs hold of my hand.
For the first time since this entire ordeal, I’m happy it’s Gabriella instead of Garrett with me. Something about this situation screams that I’ll need a mother’s love. When she squeezes my hand and plasters a tight-lipped smile on her face, I know that’s exactly what I’m getting.
“Rian. Do you mind if I call you Rian?”
“No, that’s fine. And this is Gabriella, a friend of the family.”
“Okay, so all of the testing we’ve done today concludes that your aunt did in fact experience a significant loss of oxygen. The numbers we recorded three days ago have decreased. So much so, that we’ve called for the head of the department to come examine her, but we believe her to be in a permanent vegetative state, with little to no chance of recovering.” The doctor pauses, giving me time for all of this to sink in.
“What is the next step?” Gabriella asks the doctor. When she passes me a glance, she silently tells me that she’ll take care of this, which is great because I’m not so sure I can actually speak over the large lump in the back of my throat.
“Well, once we have the department head examine her, we’ll more than likely suggest removing the breathing tube and calling in hospice.”
“She’ll die,” I cry, unable to control myself.
“Rian, I understand you’re upset. I wish very much the situation wasn’t as severe as it is, but we have to do what’s best for your aunt. As you’re her only living relative, you will be the one directing us in her care. We can’t force you to make any decisions, or guide you in them, but we can give you all the information you need to make the right choice.”
At seventeen, how the hell am I the one supposed to say if I want my aunt to live or die? There has to be someone else, another relative who’s living that can direct the hospital on what to do. Racking my brain, I can’t come up with anyone. Elaine never married or had children. Both my grandparents died when I was very young and my mother was her only sibling. I don’t know about any cousins or anything, and I probably don’t have the time to start investigating.
“Doctor, Rian is only seventeen years old. She’s still a minor. How can this be her responsibility? There has to be another way.” Squeezing Gabriella’s hand, I thank her for saying what I’m feeling.
“It does become tricky with Rian being under eighteen, but after looking into some case studies over the last few days, in the State of Kentucky, she’s able to make decisions as if she’s an adult.” The doctor faces me and asks questions I have no idea how to answer—things about living wills, attorneys and power of attorney. I shake my head, not knowing any of the information.
“We’ll look around. I’m sure we’ll find something. No decisions will be made until we get all this situated.” Gabriella eyes him sternly, protecting me the best she can. I’m beyond thankful.
I excuse myself, going back to Elaine’s room while Gabriella stays behind and talks with the doctor. Taking Elaine’s hand, I beg her to wake up and prove them all wrong. There’s no doubt I can take care of myself if need be, but I don’t want to be alone. I want to have her waiting on me when I get home from school—yelling at me for trying to use Mom’s money to pay bills so she can take a day off, bitching about stupid teenage problems—not being on my own and having nobody.
****
“I think I found something,” I call to Gabriella from Elaine’s bedroom. A stack of papers inside the top drawer of her dresser look to have been sent by an attorney’s office. I’ve never heard of the lawyer, but all the papers have Elaine’s name printed on them, so they’re not any kind of solicitation. She knew these people.
“Let me see.” Gabriella holds her hand out and I give her the information I found. She scans the documents quickly, looking for something, but I have no idea what. You could put all those things the doctor said to look for in front of my face and I’d have no idea if I had it or not.
Pulling one of the documents from the stack, she sets it on the bed while she keeps searching for only God knows what. Picking it up, I read over the form that’s signed and dated by three different people. It’s so formal, there’s even o
ne of those county seals on it, like you would see on a birth certificate.
“What does DNR mean?”
“Do not resuscitate,” she whispers. I don’t understand the significance of those words. Is this what the power of attorney looks like? Am I off the hook for making the decision for her? Angling my head to the side, I search her face that’s just as sad as mine was earlier. “Sweetheart.” Gabriella pulls me to her and gently rubs my back.
“Is this what the doctor was looking for?”
“Rian, it means that Elaine doesn’t want any extreme measures keeping her alive. I believe that means the breathing machine.”
My heart stops and falls to rest in the bottom of my stomach. I’m the worst human being alive. We’ve been here searching for anything that tells me and the hospital that I won’t have to be the one to make the decisions and we’ve just found the smoking gun. This stupid, single sheet of paper decides her fate and I’m off the hook. Why don’t I feel better?
“Ri, are you okay? You’re really pale.” I sit on the edge of the bed, putting my head between my knees and hands on the back of my head. Breathing deep and fast, I try to calm my racing heart. All I have to do is not give this to the hospital and they’ll never know—it’s my little secret. I can keep her alive. That’s my decision, I’ll keep her alive. The breathing tube stays and she won’t die. Everything will turn around eventually, I just need more time.
“It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart,” Gabriella says in an attempt to comfort me. Little does she know how okay everything will be once I tell her my plan. She’s on my side and she’ll have my back.
“We’re not going to give this to them. I’m going to keep the breathing machine in and we can wait until her brain gets better and she wakes up. That’s my decision.” I feel so much better already, like a weight is lifted from my chest and the panic slinks back to wherever it came from.
Raven Page 8
