by S. K. Lessly
A meeting had been called that consisted of Paul’s family, Sabrina, and me. Don’t ask me why Sabrina was involved, but the moment she found out what happened, she was at the hospital every day. She was never in the room with me, but she was there with his family.
The meeting was held in Paul’s room. Its purpose was to discuss Paul’s condition and what the future held for him. Paul’s heart had stopped a few times, and each time he was resuscitated. Everyone was panicking but me. Paul was fighting for his life. I knew it in my heart. He promised me he would never leave me and wouldn’t allow anything or anyone come between us. Yes, I couldn’t control death, but I wasn’t giving in if he wasn’t going to. If his body and mind were giving up, he wouldn’t be able to fight back when his heart stopped, and he was fighting back.
We all put in our opinions and voted on whether or not we would continue to bring him back if his heart stopped again. Paul’s younger sister, Mary and I were the only two that said to keep saving him. Needless to say, we were outvoted. Then Sabrina brought up the ventilator.
“The longer Paul’s in a coma, the odds that he’ll wake up is diminishing,” Sabrina announced to the group.
I narrowed my pained eyes. “So, what, you’re an expert now? Where's your medical license?”
“You don’t have to be a medical doctor to know that, Lauren," she bit back. She shifted her eyes to Paul’s quiet form before looking back at us. “The doctors aren’t very optimistic. Why are we holding on to someone that could already be gone? He’s on a ventilator to help him breathe, his heart has stopped on multiple occasions. I think it’s a sign that we should let him go.”
“No!” I blurted, my voice raised in volume and pitch. “We aren’t giving up on him.”
“Lauren, stop being selfish and look at his family. They are holding on and falling apart as each day goes by.”
“And you think I’m not?” I glared at her, feeling my body start to shake with rage. “Sabrina, my heart is breaking and aching for him to wake, but what’s keeping me sane and going is the fact that he’s fighting. We have to fight with him and believe that he’ll come out of this.”
“Yeah and at what cost?” Sabrina added. “What if he wakes and is only a shell of who he once was? I know for a fact that he doesn’t want to end up a vegetable. He definitely wouldn’t want anyone taking care of him for the rest of his and their lives either. He’s told me so.”
I stood as a wave of nausea came over me. “And he’s told me the same. All I’m saying is not to give up so easily. Give him some time to heal. He’s having heart issues because of the blood thinner they’re giving him for any brain clots. You don’t know if his body is giving up if he's giving up. Let’s give him time to heal. That’s all I’m saying.”
Well as you could guess, I lost the vote on that too. His parents directed his doctor and nurses not to resuscitate the next time his heart stopped. Hearing that directive was an agony that I had never felt before in my life. Despondency had begun to creep along my veins, taking root in my soul. My heart was breaking, and I had no idea how to stop it. I was going to lose him for sure.
With that gut-wrenching reality, I stayed awake with him every single night. I talked to him, prayed with him and for him, and only left his side when his family came to visit. But I wouldn’t go far. I stayed in the waiting room, and dozed occasionally, but I didn’t move. I was afraid that something would happen, and I wouldn’t be here to at least say goodbye.
My brother came in town for a few days to check up on me. When he saw me, he looked horrified. He hugged me so tight that I thought he was going to break a rib.
“What the hell is going on, lil sis?”
“What do you mean?” Lame, I know. I was just trying to bide some time before the shit hit the fan.
Mark pulled back from me and looked me over.
“Lauren,” he warned softly. We were sitting outside the room in the waiting area of Paul’s floor. He put my hand in his, and I could have sworn he was checking my pulse as he held it.
I took my hand away and turned away from him. “I’m fine, Mark.”
Mark got up and kneeled in front of me. “You don’t look fine, Lauren. You look like you’ve lost weight, and you have bags under your eyes, so I know you aren’t sleeping. Believe me, I’ve seen this look on you before, and it isn't a good look. You’re withering away.” He stood, a frown darkening his features. “Has no one noticed?”
The man looked beyond pissed. He was looking around and was about to head to Paul’s room, but I stopped him.
“No please don’t. Look, I’ve been under a lot of pressure okay. I—”
“Come on,” Mark cut me off and started pulling me up. “I’m taking you home. You need to—"
I yanked out of his hold, or tried to and did my best to dig my heel into the linoleum. “Mark no, I can’t. You don’t understand!” I yelled.
Mark stopped and looked at me expectantly. I looked around at other people staring at me, and I lowered my voice. I told him about the meeting and what Paul’s parents instituted in his chart. I looked pleadingly in my brother’s eyes.
“Don’t you see? If I leave and something happens, I’ll never forgive myself that I wasn’t here.”
“So, what you don’t take showers?”
I nodded and fell back into my chair. “I do, I have clothes in his room. There’s a shower there too. I take one when I sit with him during the night.”
“And what about eating, do you eat?”
“Yes, of course,” I lied.
“No, you’re not, Lauren. And I can tell there’s something else going on with you.” He pulled on me again. “Come on, at least let me take a look at you.”
“No Mark,” I protested, but since I had zero strength, he was successful in pulling me away from my seat.
“Listen, little sister. You have one of two choices here.” He warned. He stopped in the middle of the waiting area and pinned me with a hard stare. “You can either go with me, and we can find a room so that I can look you over or… I call dad, tell him how you’re doing, and see what happens.”
My eyes grew wide as I envisioned my father raising holy hell in this place, cussing everyone out, including the man that right now doesn’t like me very much. He’d then carry me out of this place kicking and screaming. Mark nodded his head, confirming my internal thoughts as he knew exactly what my father would do too.
I reluctantly let him take me to the nurse’s station. One of Paul’s nurses, Madeline, was there to greet him. Mark explained his worry and that he wanted to examine me. He then asked if he could speak to the doctor on the floor, but she said there was no need.
Nurse Madeline had been looking out for me when I stayed here, bringing me blankets and food. She was happy to help him expressing to my brother how concerned she was about me too.
Nurse Madeline led us to an empty room and directed me to have a seat on the empty bed. I resisted an eye roll and sat quietly as Mark fussed over me, taking my blood pressure, checking my pulse. He looked in my eyes and took my temperature. He asked the nurse how much do I eat and if I drink water. Much to my chagrin, she gave him a rundown as if I was her patient.
The nurse was an older white woman, with long black hair, laced with gray, which she wore in a bun. She was somewhat heavy, with a round face and a sweet disposition that only changed when someone pushed her. She wasn’t a pushover. She had no problem setting Mr. and Mrs. Logan in their places with her sweet as pie southern accent. I loved her.
“Nurse Madeline, how long would it take if I got some blood drawn?” my brother queried.
“Uh, let me see. We can probably get it done rather quickly seeing as I know a few people down there. What do you want to check for?” She went to work searching in cabinets for valves to collect the blood.
“Let’s see…” My brother looked me over then looked at Nurse Madeline. “Run an FBC, CMP, EKG and electrolyte blood test.”
“What about HCG?” She looked
over her shoulder at my brother as she continued to collect the items she needed to draw my blood.
Mark looked surprised. “You think that’s necessary?”
The nurse nodded. “It couldn’t hurt.”
I couldn’t follow what they were talking about, but I didn’t care. The sooner he got this done, the quicker he could get off my back.
Mark stayed with me for two more days, making sure I ate and slept while he stayed awake to keep an eye on Paul.
On the last day, Mark had stopped by my house to check on things and bring my mail. My eyes rose at the bag in his hand full of unopened envelopes when Nurse Madeline stopped him. They huddled together by the nurse’s station talking, and I realized it wasn’t good when my brother looked in my direction. The hairs at the back of my neck stood on end, and I got nervous under his scrutiny. Unable to stand it any longer, I stood up and headed in his direction.
“What’s up?” I asked him.
Mark didn’t reply. Instead, he took my arm and guided me to an empty room away from the nurse’s station. He pulled the privacy sheet and had me sit on the bed.
“I got your test results back,” he announced without preamble while fitting a blood pressure pump on my forearm.
“Okay, so what did you find?” The look on his face was scaring me.
He waited until he was done before he answered me.
“First of all, your blood pressure is extremely high. And I don’t like the readings from the EKG, which shows whether your heart is working properly or not.”
“Mark, what do you want me to do? Paul is lying there fighting for his life. His family wants to end that life, and I can’t stop them. I’m dying here, and I don’t know what to do.”
“Lauren, you have to think of yourself right now. You have more at stake than—"
I cut him off and stood. “I can’t do that, Mark. Paul is my life. He’s all I have.”
“No, he isn’t.” He grabbed my arm stopping my forward progress. “You’re pregnant, Lauren.”
“What!” I instantly felt dizzy and light headed. I gripped his arm and practically fell into him. He wrapped me in his arms, and I buried my face in his chest.
I nodded and collapsed in his arms again. “Oh, what am I going to do?”
“We’re going to have a baby, or rather you are and you’re going to take care of yourself, that’s what you’re going to do. And don’t worry. I’m here for you and this baby, okay. We all are, you know this. Whatever you need.”
I mumbled an okay into his chest and reveled in the feel of my brother’s arms around me. I heard shuffling behind me, and I lifted my face to turn around. I didn’t see anyone standing there nor did someone walk in. However, the curtain shifted as if someone was there and had stepped out.
I looked up at Mark questioningly, and he shrugged and guided me back to the bed.
“Your blood pressure is dangerously high, sis. You’re dehydrated and your blood count is low. We need to get you some prenatal vitamins, and you need some rest.”
I tried to get up against Mark’s firm hold on my shoulders. “Mark, you don’t understand.”
“Lauren, let me tell you what’s at stake.” He warned, pinning me where I sat with a hard stare. “You need to take care of yourself and this baby, or you’ll lose this pregnancy. Little sister, listen to me. I know you’re completely worried about Paul. I understand that. But how do you think he would feel, when he woke up, to learn that you were pregnant but lost the baby because you didn’t take care of yourself. You have someone else to think about right now. Do you hear me?”
I knew he was right. I had someone other than myself and Paul to think about. I had a piece of the man I love growing inside of me. He would be very pissed at me if I didn’t take care of our baby and myself.
I blew out a tired breath and nodded my head. “Alright, Mark, what do you want me to do?” I relented on a whisper.
He took my hand and squeezed it. “Madeline said there is a very good OB/GYN on the fifth floor of this hospital. She told me she would call him and get you an appointment to see him in a few days.”
I nodded my head, and I promised, damn near with blood, that I would take my ass to the doctor once the appointment was made. I also promised I would get some rest, eat, and take my vitamins.
* * *
Later that night, when I was alone sitting in Paul’s room, I told him all about the baby. A tearful smile spread along my face as I talked about baby names I wanted to name him or her and shared all of my fears and hopefulness of being a new mom. Madeline stepped into the room bringing me something to eat. She smiled down at me and handed me a card with the doctor’s name, number and the time of my appointment for the following Monday.
“Thanks, Mrs. Maddie. I really appreciate it.”
She smiled down at me. “No problem. Just take care of yourself, okay, hun?”
I nodded and smiled back at her. Warmth filled my heart from the care this woman gave Paul and me. She didn’t have to look out for me, but she did. She was the only one on my side when it came to Paul. She was rooting for he and I and made sure to pray with me whenever I needed her to.
I took a shower that night and settled in the lounge chair next to Paul’s bed. I placed the many unopened envelopes in my lap and started opening them one by one. So far, all I had in my lap were bills. I pushed those aside planning to deal with everything later. There was an official looking envelope addressed to Paul. I opened, read the contents, and froze. I read it again, the papers now shaking in my hands. I read them four more times and then asked Nurse Madeline to read it too.
“Does that say what I think it does?” I asked her, my whole body now shaking.
“It does.” She looked at me and smiled.
“So, what do I do? How do I check to make sure this is valid?” I asked her.
She called Dr. Goldbloom to the room and showed him the documents. He read it and looked at me surprised. He then started giving me instructions on what to do first. It was painful, but I couldn’t do anything until the morning. As soon as 8:00 a.m. rolled around, I made my phone calls, and by 10:00 a.m., it seemed that I got the do not resuscitate order removed just in time.
That morning just before his parents came into the room, I saw Paul open his eyes. He looked at me and squeezed my hand.
“Paul, sweetheart it’s me. I’m here, baby.” I pushed the nurse’s button and touched his face. He looked at me and smiled, and that’s when his eyes closed, and the bell from the heart monitor went off.
The doctor rushed in as well as the nurse and worked on him, doing whatever they could to bring him back; they brought in the paddles. I held my breath as they worked on him and I didn’t start breathing until Paul did.
Just then, when they had him stable, his father entered the room.
“What the hell is going on?” Mr. Logan barked. “I thought you were perfectly clear on what to do?” He looked at Dr. Goldbloom. Mrs. Logan walked inside the room next, followed by Paul’s brother.
“I will have your license for this,” Mr. Logan chastised, his nose flared, his face beat red.
“No, you won’t,” I spoke up confidently standing next to the doctor. “He was doing what I asked him to do.”
I watched the doctor leave the room, and six pairs of unhappy eyes surrounded me.
“You have no right young lady to—" Mrs. Logan began, but I cut her off.
“Actually, I do. Paul made sure if it.” I handed Mr. Logan the documents and let him read it. I advised the room, “Paul made me power of attorney for him. That means he gave me the power to make decisions on his behalf when he isn’t able. He’s filed this with the court, which confirms it’s legit.” I walked closer to them. “He woke up this morning, longer this time. He made eye contact with me and squeezed my hand. He’s still there. He’s still in there. He just needed some help.”
“Why are you the only one that he always wakes up for?” Kenneth asked.
I looked at his
brother my eyes brimmed with excitement. “I don’t know, but I’m telling you the truth.”
“How long have you had this paper?” Mr. Logan asked.
“It just came in the mail the other day. My brother brought the mail to me from the house. I just opened it and had it verified this morning.”
Mr. Logan looked at me and frowned. “This isn’t real.”
The smile fell from my face, and I looked from him to Paul’s mom and brother. “Yes, it is.”
“You forged this document,” Mr. Logan accused, his face now turning an alarming purple. “My son wouldn’t have done this without me knowing. You got someone to draft this fake… crap. I don’t know what’re you after?”
I shook my head, my voice rising in pitch, my heart beginning to beat erratically. “Mr. Logan, I swear to you I didn’t forge anything. Paul had this drafted a few weeks ago. I knew nothing about this.”
He pointed at me, spittle spewing from his thin lips. “I knew you weren’t good for my son. I knew it the minute he told me he was moving in with you. You’re after something and if you think you’re going to get it—"
“What are you talking about?” I looked at his mother and then his brother. His mom frowned just like her husband, but Paul’s brother looked shocked.
Mr. Logan walked up to me, bringing his face inches from my mine. He lowered his voice, menacingly. “Let me tell you something. You won’t get a dime of my money you understand. And this…” I balled up the document. “This will be handled today.”
He stormed out of the room with his wife and son at his heels. I fell helplessly in the chair defeated. I looked at Paul and started to cry.
All I wanted to do was save him. I wanted to give him a chance, to give my prayers a chance to come true. I didn’t want to believe Paul was gone. He promised me for Christ sake. No one believed me that he wouldn’t leave me, but I wouldn’t give up.
