These Days Series: After Tuesday | Forgotten Yesterday | Deciding Tomorrow

by Renee Ericson

  I shouldn’t have gone to work. I should have found him. I should have looked for him. I should have realized he was in trouble.

  “Do you know if he took anything?” the female paramedic asks.

  “No…” I pause. “But it’s likely. Maybe. I don’t know.”

  “Sir?” the male paramedic questions Jas.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him in days,” Jas softly says.

  The paramedics continue to work on him while Jas and I stand there motionless, watching it all play out before our eyes. They get my dad hooked into a stretcher and then wheel him out the front door into the ambulance.

  “County Hospital,” the female paramedic says.

  The paramedics climb in, and then the ambulance takes off.

  “C’mon, Ruby,” Jas says a little too calmly, “I’ll drive us down there.”

  I bet he’s in shock. I know I am. “Do you think he’ll be okay?”

  “I hope so.”

  Twenty-Six

  When we get to the hospital, the staff won’t let us go back to my father’s room, so a nurse directs us to the waiting area. Jas and I sit in chairs across from each other. Jas hasn’t said much. What is there to say? This whole thing is out of our hands.

  I try not to think about my dad lying there on his bedroom floor. I have no idea what happened, when it happened, or why it happened. I just have to hope that he’ll survive.

  Guilt washes over me. I should have tried harder.

  Jas noticed he was missing. I didn’t even think about it because I was consumed by my own life. I wasn’t there for him when he needed someone. I saw his cries for help, but I just couldn’t do it. Why? Why couldn’t I? Because I was afraid—that’s why. I was afraid of what it would do to my heart. I would gladly take a thousand heartaches if it kept him out of that ambulance.

  “How long have they been back there?” Jas asks, staring at his shoes.

  I pull out my phone to check the time. “I think it’s been about forty-five minutes,” I tell him, shoving the phone back into my pocket.

  “Do you think they could tell us something now?” he asks, sounding irritated.

  “I don’t know. Maybe?”

  He stands up, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Well, I’m going to see what’s going on.” He walks over to the check-in area.

  Waiting is a game I’m familiar with. I’ve been waiting for the shoe to drop with my dad for years. I’ve just been waiting for something to happen, but at the same time, I’ve been hoping that nothing happens. That’s all I do when it comes to my dad, but it doesn’t make it any easier. I just know how to wait.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out to see a text from Lexi.

  Pizza okay with you?

  She’s asking about tonight. I completely forgot about our plans. It seems like a lifetime ago. What am I supposed to tell her? Obviously, I need to tell her that I can’t make it.

  Can I call you?

  “They moved him,” Jas interrupts my texting.

  I slip my phone back into my pocket.

  “Really?” I feel my phone buzz again with Lexi’s reply, but I know now is not the time to take it.

  “Yep.” He tucks his hands into his pants pockets, waiting for me to stand.

  I guess we’re moving, too.

  “C’mon.”

  He gently touches my back as I stand, leading us to the elevator. We wait in silence for the elevator and get inside when the doors open. He pushes the button for floor eight. I look at the directory above the buttons to see where we’re going. The only unit on that floor is the ICU.

  As the elevator doors shut, I close my eyes. I’m trying to hold it together. The ICU is never a good place. This isn’t good. It can’t be good.

  When the doors ding, I open my eyes, and we exit. Jas leads the way to the check-in area.

  “We’re here for Jerry Miller,” Jas says to the lady behind the desk.

  “Are you family?” she asks.

  “Yes, I’m his brother, and this is his daughter.” He points to me.

  The nurse clacks away on the computer for a moment, and then she looks up. “Just have a seat, and the nurse will be out shortly.”

  “Can we see him?” I ask.

  Something inside of me wants to see him. I need to see that he’s breathing. I need to see that he’s real. I need to see that he’s alive.

  “Someone will come out when he can take visitors,” she replies.

  Shut down. I take that as a no.

  “How long do we have to wait?” Jas asks.

  “Just have a seat, and I’ll find out.”

  I turn to take a seat, and Jas follows me. The small ICU waiting area is nearly empty. A woman and a man, not seated together, are both staring blankly at the TV. We each take a chair in the corner. The room is silent. It’s an uncomfortable silence with only anxiety filling the air. Jas continuously runs his hands over his jeans and then through his hair. Finally, he just sits back, leaning his head back, with closed eyes.

  I feel sick. My phone buzzes in my pocket, reminding me that I have a text waiting for me. It must be Lexi.

  “I’ll be right back. I need to go to the bathroom.” I stand up and head down the hall to find a quiet corner. I pull out my phone to see Lexi’s two messages.

  Sure.

  Ruby? Hello?

  Instead of responding, I hit the call button.

  “Hey, what’s up?” Lexi answers.

  I’m at a loss of words. I want to speak, but the emotions are clogging my throat.

  “Ruby? Are you there?”

  “Yeah,” I manage to say. I breathe audibly a few times while she waits for me to say more. “I don’t think I’m going to make it tonight.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s my dad.”

  There’s silence. She’s waiting for me to explain more.

  “Um, we’re at the hospital,” I choke out.

  “What happened? Is he gonna be okay?”

  “I don’t know. We’re still waiting.” I begin to cry. Sobbing a little, I blubber, “It’s bad. He’s in the ICU.”

  “Oh god! What happened?”

  “I don’t know,” I tell her, my voice shaky. “I found him when I got home. There was blood and puke everywhere.”

  “Which hospital?” she asks in a rush.

  “Huh? County? Why?”

  “I’m coming down there. You shouldn’t be alone.”

  “My Uncle Jas is here.”

  “I’m still coming,” she says, her breathing increasing. “I’m grabbing my keys now, and I’m walking out the door.”

  I hear a door shut. “Really? Thank you.”

  “Hang in there. I’m on my way. I’ll see you soon.”

  “See you soon.”

  I walk back to meet Jas in the waiting room. The waiting is intense, but after what seems like an eternity, a nurse comes out to tell us that we can go back and see him.

  We walk through a set of automatic doors and then down a long hallway before the nurse gestures to a room.

  Nothing could have prepared me for what I see and feel when I enter that room. Everything, the surreal reality of it all, comes crashing down at once.

  I’m standing a good distance from my father. Lying there in the bed, he’s hooked up to multiple tubes and patches. A tube invades his mouth, expanding his chest with each ventilation. With blood still on his face, he looks so helpless. I’m having a hard time processing everything that is happening. I don’t know what I’m feeling. I want him better. I wish this day didn’t exist. I want to fix him, but I’m powerless. I don’t know what to do.

  “As you can see, we had to intubate to help him with his breathing for now,” the male nurse begins, explaining the rundown of his condition. “He’s suffered some head trauma as well, but we believe it’s only a concussion. We’re giving it a little time to see if he wakes up. If not, we’ll take him down for an MRI to see if there’s any internal damage.”

&
nbsp; “Can I touch him?” I ask.

  “Yes, of course,” he says while reading something on one of the machines. “You can hold his hand, touch his face, arms, or legs. Just don’t move any of the sensors. It’ll make a lot of noise, and then I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

  I move forward and take his hand in my own. His palms feel big, heavy, cold, and dry. My first thought is that he can really use some hand moisturizer. Hand cream? What is wrong with me? He’s in the ICU.

  “Is he gonna be okay?” I whisper more to myself.

  Jas moves up beside me, standing closer to my father’s head. He places his hand on my father’s shoulder.

  “Sure, he will,” Jas states with a lack of confidence. “Won’t you, Jer?”

  I think he’s trying to convince all of us.

  Tears silently stream down my face. Never letting go of my dad, I use my free hand to wipe away the wetness. I’m not ready to give up on him. I can’t lose him.

  “So, what now?” I ask, looking up to meet the eyes of the nurse.

  “For now, we’re going to monitor him. His condition is stable, but he needs around-the-clock care for the ventilator until he can completely breathe on his own. Then, we’ll determine the extent of his head injury. We’ll have a better assessment of that in the next twenty-four hours. We also need to monitor how he handles the withdrawal.”

  “Withdrawal?” I ask.

  “Yes. His toxicology report shows high levels of alcohol, THC, and moderate levels of cocaine.”

  “Cocaine?” Jas asks in shock.

  I’m surprised, too.

  “Yes. Right now, we aren’t worried about that. The alcohol is our biggest concern.”

  “Why?” I ponder. My anxiety is skyrocketing.

  “With the head trauma, there’s a higher chance for withdrawal symptoms. We’re just going to watch him for now.”

  “Symptoms? Like what?” Jas asks.

  “Sweats, tremors, heart rate issues, seizures.”

  “So withdrawal is serious?” I ask.

  “It can be. We’ll keep an eye out for any signs.”

  ***

  After about twenty minutes, the male nurse comes back into the room.

  “You need to clear the room. You can come back to see him again in two hours during regular visiting hours,” he informs us.

  “Okay.” Jas nods and exits.

  I walk up to my Dad and say, “Bye.”

  Heading back to the waiting area, I walk the long hallway with Jas at my side. My legs are moving, but I’m not sure how. The world as I know it has completely turned upside down.

  When the automatic doors open, we see Cody, Lexi, and Brent waiting for us. Jas must have called Cody while I was talking to Lexi. Lexi must have called Brent. I’m glad she did.

  “Well?” Cody asks. Standing up, he fidgets around his belt loop with fear in his eyes.

  Is that what I look like? I can see everything he is feeling. He’s thinking the worst. He’s recalling the things that have gone wrong, the times when he did nothing to help, and the situations where he might have even made it worse.

  I know those feelings. Did I make it worse by doing nothing? Just standing by? By screaming at him? By not reaching out?

  “He’s stable,” Jas drones. “We just have to wait for now.”

  Lexi steps toward me and wraps her arms around me. She whispers in my ear, “It’s gonna be okay.”

  “I hope so.”

  She squeezes me tightly, wordlessly agreeing.

  “Ruby, Cody and I are gonna go down and get some coffee,” Jas interrupts. They head toward the elevator. “We’ll be back.”

  “Okay.” I sniff, backing out of Lexi’s embrace. “I’ll be here.”

  When Lexi’s arms drop, I feel cold, alone, weak, and fragile.

  My eyes meet Brent’s. He’s still sitting in the chair. His expression reveals concern, compassion, and empathy. My guard is gone. I’m trying to keep a brave face, but my trembling lips, shaky brow, and audible choking sobs betray me.

  “Come here,” he says.

  I go to him, and he pulls me into his arms. I feel safe there. I always have. It’s my heart’s home, and I need to find a place to be in this moment that is so out of place.

  As I let go of everything that I’ve been feeling, he willingly shares the burden with me. Allowing me to sob into his shoulder, he understands that I feel helpless. Comforted in his arms, I surrender the guilt, the regret, and the hate I have for myself for not being able to fix my father.

  “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” he softly whispers into my ear, assuring me.

  I’ll never know how he knows this is what I need to hear, but I won’t deny it either. I say nothing in return because I’m unable to speak. Instead, I nod my head to let him know I heard him.

  ***

  About an hour later, Cody and Jas return to sit with us while we wait. Waiting is all there is to do right now.

  “Dad said he was using coke. Did you know he was doing that?” Cody asks me. He obviously can’t understand what to make of this news.

  “No.” My eyes are focused on my hands in my lap. “I had no idea. I never knew what he was doing. Even when we went to meetings, he never really shared. I never thought he was doing that though.” I look up, staring directly at Jas. “Where did he get it?”

  “Don’t look at me. I don’t know.”

  “What about all your friends? Your parties? What about that?”

  “Now, listen here, I know those people pretty well. We’re all good friends. I would know if they were into that shit,” Jas snarls.

  Brent instinctively tightens his arms around me.

  Jas attempts to calm his voice. “I’m not saying they’re perfect, but they weren’t into that. I don’t know where he got it from.”

  “Betcha he got it from someone at one of those meetings,” Cody adds with little emotion.

  “What?” Lexi asks. “AA? You can’t be serious.”

  “It makes sense. I’m sure everyone there has connections. All you need to do is look for the weak link. You can always tell the person who is looking for an out.”

  “Do you really think it was someone there?” I ask.

  “Maybe. You said he was going to the meetings, but they weren’t working. I don’t know. It’s just a guess.” Cody pushes back into the seat, chewing on his lip. “I guess we should have done something sooner.”

  “Don’t start,” Jas says to Cody and then looks at me. “You either, Ruby. This isn’t your fault.”

  “But—” I begin to say.

  “No buts. This isn’t your fault,” Jas tells me sternly. He turns to look at Cody. “Yours either. He always had a choice.”

  “Yeah, but we didn’t help him make the right one,” Cody admits.

  “No, we didn’t,” I agree.

  “No, we didn’t,” Jas repeats.

  Twenty-Seven

  Two Days Later

  When we arrive at the hospital this morning, my dad is showing good signs of recovery. He starts the day breathing on his own, going in and out of consciousness, but right after breakfast, he takes a turn for the worst. It’s terrible to watch. In a state of delirium, he’s seizes and pulls at everything he’s hooked up to. The machines go crazy whenever his heart rate drops. Then he goes completely still. One time, his heart actually stops.

  He looks like he’s suffering, and there’s nothing I can do but weep for his pain.

  The hospital staff tells us that my father officially has delirium tremens. It’s a bad type of withdrawal that could actually kill him.

  All visitors are cleared out of the room.

  We wait.

  It’s been a while, and we haven’t been allowed back in.

  We wait some more.

  We wait all day and into the night, and no one is able to tell us much.

  ***

  At eleven the following morning, we get news of some change.

  “Excuse me,” a nurse says t
o us. “Are you Jerry Miller’s family?”

  “Yes,” Cody replies. “We are.”

  “We’ve been waiting here all night,” Jas adds annoyed. “Do you have anything to tell us?”

  “I just want to let you know that we have him sedated for now. His condition is stable, but at this time, we are limiting visitors due to the unpredictability of his condition. If you’d like to head home, you can leave your number, and we’ll be happy to call you if his anything changes.”

  “Can we stay here?” I ask.

  “You can, of course, but we want to let you know that another option is available. He likely won’t be able to take visitors all day, but, like I said, we are happy to call you if that changes.”

  “That’s fine,” Jas says, taking charge a bit. “Ruby, if you’d like to stay, we can stay, but maybe we should all go home and get some rest.”

  “Can I just see him from the door? Just for a minute?” I beg.

  “Sure, but that’s it,” the nurse relents.

  I go to see him lying in his bed and try not to think that this may be the last time I see him breathing. This isn’t how I want to remember him, so I close my eyes and imagine him walking through this door with arms wide, waiting for a hug.

  Then, I leave. We all leave.

  ***

  Today is my birthday. Happy birthday to me.

  I’m sitting here, alone in my room, on a Tuesday afternoon. It’s my eighteenth birthday. I’m finally an adult. I’ve been waiting for this day for two years, and I can’t even enjoy it.

  I laugh at the absurdity of my selfish thoughts. Who cares that today is my birthday? Who cares about Tuesday? It’s ridiculous. Tuesday. The only person who knows a girl called Tuesday likely can’t even tell his own name right now.

  “Tuesday’s birthday is on a Tuesday,” I say aloud, trying out the words. “After today, there might not be a Tuesday.”

  Right now, I don’t want to think about life after Tuesday, even though a life away from here and my father is all I’ve been dreaming about for the last two years. Now, I want nothing to do with that life if it means my dad has no chance for a life.

  Not feeling festive, I curl up in bed with Dragon at my feet. I pull the covers high up to my chin. I’m still in my clothes from yesterday, but I see no need to change. Clothes aren’t important right now.