by Lovell, Dani
Fearful to move anything, I bend down to press my lips against his fingers, and then his wedding ring, and I rest my cheek against the back of his hand. One of the nurses brings a chair over to me and I sit without even thanking here, too preoccupied with the feel and smell of his skin.
Closing my eyes, I savour every second of his heat permeating my skin, and as I lean against the bed to rest my cheek more permanently against his hand, I stare up at his face and watch his body move as he breathes, the oxygen mask clamped over his mouth, unsympathetically pressing into his nose.
“I love you,” I whisper, not wanting everyone to hear me. “I love you more than anything in the entire world, I won’t be able to live without you, Oliver. Please wake up, please? Please?” I whimper, fresh tears running down my face and onto his skin. I clamp his hand in both of mine and bury my face in the sheets and mattress at the side of the bed, the pain is indescribable, my chest hurts intensely.
All of a sudden, and really quite randomly, I have an urgent need to know exactly what happened to him and exactly what the doctors are expecting. I lift my head from the bed, refusing to let go of his hand and I clear my throat before asking the question with a raised voice so that everyone in the room is listening.
“How did it happen?” I ask, demandingly. “How did it happen and what’s going to happen to him? How long ago was the accident? How long has he been here? All that stuff you’re writing…” I say, raising my chain towards the clipboards, “what is it? What are you expecting? When will he wake up? Can he hear me? Is he in pain? Can’t you give him something to wake him up? Will he be brain damaged?” My voice becomes louder as panic begins to set in about exactly how serious this situation is, even if he does wake up, will he be the same? Will he remember me? “When can I take him home?” I cry, loudly, “he needs to be at home! He needs to be at home,” I sob, hysterically, before quietening, whispering as I look at him, “with me… holding me, taking care of me, making babies and starting a family… I want to look after him.”
Bea watches me and bursts into tears again, leaning against the side of the chair, covering her face with her hands and shaking her head. Emily is at my side, immediately, bending to hug me, and I release Oliver’s hand with one of mine; only one, to rest it on Emily’s shoulder as she comforts me.
“Oh, darling…” she says, “you love my boy.”
“Oh god,” I cry, “I love him so much, why is this happening? We’ve been so happy… I hate that you don’t know that. We’ve been so excited about our future and having a baby and everything. I thought I might have gotten pregnant once, though we hadn’t planned it. Why wasn’t I? He’d wake up if I was pregnant, he might never have been at work if I was pregnant - we could have had a doctor’s appointment or a scan or something…”
“Sweetheart, this would have happened one way or another, somehow this is meant to be, I can’t understand why right now, but there is a reason we’re being put through this, there’s a reason my boy is lying here… but he’ll be back soon. He will. I know my Oliver, he won’t leave us.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“What for, darling?” Emily asks.
“This; getting hysterical; making you comfort me when you’re having to see your son here, like this… lying to you about not having met anybody recently; not telling you.”
“You have your reasons. Of course, I’d like to talk all about it with you both, but right now, the fact is, you’re my son’s wife. I love you and I wouldn’t have picked anyone else to be with my Oliver. You’ve always made him smile and love, Clare. Don’t think about that for now - we can get used to that fact later, when things are a little more normal.”
“You’re amazing,” I say, absolutely believing it. “You’re the strongest, most loving and welcoming woman I have ever met.”
“I’m not all that strong, I just need to keep focused for Oliver, right now. I’ve also been here longer than you so I’ve been able to get my questions out, though I still have many. Here, let me get a chair and we’ll try to get some of yours answered.”
She pulls over a chair to sit next to me, next to her son, and Edward quietly comes back in. “Anything?” he asks. Bea and Emily simply shake their heads and he nods once in response, his face sullen and expressionless. He sits on the chair next to Bea and opens his arms to her, inviting her to sit on his lap for a cuddle.
“Daddy, I’m twenty eight, I’m too heavy for you now.”
“Nonsense, you’re still my baby,” he says, patting his lap and she instantly leaps up and curls up her arms around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder.
“Okay, okay, he’ll be right as rain, darling,” he whispers soothingly. I can’t imagine my father ever doing something so tactile or affectionate with me.
I look back over at Oliver, checking for anything new; a movement, an expression… anything. But there is nothing, and I sink into a slouched, defeated position.
“What happened darling, is that he fell from quite some height,” she says, quietly, taking a deep, painful inhalation as she frowns, looking at him, a tear falls from her eye and she rests her hand on top of ours, connecting us all. It’s almost as if she’s offering her blessing. “He was on some scaffolding inside one of the buildings they’re working on, I’m not entirely sure what happened but it seemed he lost his footing or something, and the scaffolding hadn’t yet been completed so…”
I nod, not needing to hear anymore about the fall. I feel sick at the thought.
“He was the only one inside and there was a lot of work and commotion outside, so I believe there is a chance that he may have been there for a while, but we don’t know, it’s rather unclear at the moment.” I gasp and throw my spare hand over my mouth, my poor boy could have been lying in pain or unconscious for god knows how long.
“Someone called an ambulance, it was around three or four, he was in and out of consciousness at that time, which is when he asked for the ring and for you, darling. Of course, no one knew who his wife was and his phone was locked with a password so they couldn’t check his messages or anything. He wasn’t able to help with that. Which is why it took a while to get hold of you. I wasn’t really thinking straight to work it out, until Bea said Daniel had called you to come and then something just clicked, I knew it was you.”
I nod, guiltily, saying nothing. She simply squeezes my hand. What a stupid fucking secret. If we’d been out in the open about it, or at least told people that we were seeing each other, I might have been able to get to him, maybe even on site while he was conscious… or maybe not. I don’t know.
“The last thing he spoke… would you like to know?” she asks, considerately.
“Oh, yes - please.”
“He said, ‘please, I want my wife’.” She squeezes my hand again, tightly and offers a sympathetic smile as my heart rips in two, my soul destroyed at the thought of him asking for me and I wasn’t there - I couldn’t get there, and nobody knew how to get hold of me.
I simply close my eyes and drop my chin to my chest as I let the warm, salty liquid drip onto my lap. I sit, silently like that, for a moment before Emily begins to speak again, moving on, helpfully.
“He obviously has the head injury, but has also broken a couple of ribs and his collar bone.”
“Oh dear god,” I whisper, my voice quivering, “I can’t believe it. He was so ‘okay’ this morning…”
“I know, I know. I can’t stop thinking about our last conversation - just yesterday, and he was so happy and normal… now look at him,” she says, holding her hand out to his unresponsive body, her chin quivering, her strength diminishing before my eyes. ‘One minute I think I can be positive and work through this, and the next I’m a wreck… he’s my baby boy, Clare…” she cries, quietly, and I can only wrap my arm around her, holding her close to me as our other hands remain connected with Oliver’s.
Edward looks over at us helplessly as he comforts his daughter and I simply smile, sadly, offering sympathy in an
y way I can - not that it’ll help.
“Anyway, where were we,” she says, wiping her cheeks and sitting up tall, composing herself for her own sanity. What else did you ask? When will he wake - oh, yes, and if they can give him anything. Well, as they have given him drugs to deepen his unconsciousness, he won’t be coming around naturally yet. They said they could keep him like this for anything between a couple of days and a month, depending on the swelling. Once they gradually wean his body from the drugs, it will be just a matter of waiting to see when he will wake naturally. So the answer - we don’t know.”
“It’s all just so… so quick, I mean - how did this all happen in such a short space of time? It’s… it’s so horrible.”
“They had to do it quickly, darling…”
I nod, not wanting her to elaborate further as to why. “So… what will happen? Will he have any… any brain damage?” I ask, one of the hardest questions to ever come out of my mouth, other than having to ask Alexia if he had died.
“We don’t know yet. Nobody knows until he wakes up what he will be like. They said if he’s otherwise okay, he might have post traumatic amnesia for up to about a week, and may never recall the accident, but they just don’t know how he’ll respond when they lessen the drugs.”
“So… could he not wake up?” I ask, my voice a whisper. She squeezes my hand tightly.
“I can’t even bear to think about it, Clare.”
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’m just trying to get it straight in my head because I’m unlikely to remember. I feel like this is just an awful dream, a terrible nightmare that I’m not waking up from. I’m listening to everything you're saying but I feel like I’m going to need to ask all of this again… how do you remember it?”
She shakes her head and sighs, “I don’t know. I just have to… I need to keep my head working to be able to function… it’s my coping mechanism I suppose. Hopefully one day I will be able to forget all of this information and enjoy my beautiful son again.”
I nod, though I don’t really understand because I’m more of a hysterical crier when it comes to upsetting situations.
“They don’t know if he can hear us,” she says, looking at his face, “but they said that we should talk to him anyway, I like to think it might help or soothe him a little, knowing we’re here.”
I suddenly realise why maybe I should try to control my emotions, I’d hate for him to be able to hear me and be worried about me - he’d hate that he can’t comfort me… and Bea and his mum and dad, he’d hate to have us all here upset and not be able to get up and give us a cuddle.
I sniff and straighten up, just like his mum. I need to be strong for him, like she is, I don’t want him to hear my heart breaking, I don’t want him to worry - what if it makes him sad and it affects something… no. I need to be strong.
I take a deep breath and nod, I can do this. If I need to break down - I’ll do it later, outside or something.
I turn to look at his face and squeeze his hand. “Okay, darling. I’ve stopped with the hysterics now, you don’t need to worry about us, we’re fine. We know you’re going to be okay. I just can’t wait to speak to you again, I want you to look into my eyes and tell me you love me before you grab me in that overly-dramatic way and bend me over your knee to kiss me. You’re going to make me that chowder when we get home because only you know how to make it exactly how I like it, my attempt was terrible, you remember? It tasted like old dishwater. Anyway, I put a super-hot dress on for you tonight, I know you can’t see it because you’re sleeping, but you can be sure I’m going to wear it again.”
Emily giggles very faintly before releasing my hand and getting up from her chair. “I’m going to give you a minute, sweetheart,” she whispers, walking over to join her husband and daughter. Bea is watching me interact with Oliver and I notice she has tears running down her cheeks, but she’s smiling, and I hope that’s because she’s happy for us, and enjoying listening to me finally opening up about how I feel about him.
I turn his hand so his palm is facing upwards, and I put my face on it, resting on the bed, looking at him. “Here you go, handsome, touch my skin, you’ll be missing that - I know you, it’s been a few hours.” I begin to slowly well up again as I look at him, thinking about those few hours ago when he was sitting on my bed drinking tea… he wanted to grope my boob… he apologised for not making love to me… he didn’t have to apologise, I didn’t mind… I was just grateful that he was thoughtful enough to make Alexia and I a hot drink and make time to join me for a quick, cheeky morning chat.
My tears run across my face as I rest my head sidewards on the bed, and I sniff, turning my face to kiss his palm and then resting my cheek against it again. He feels just like him… yet he’s not responding to me, which is so unlike him. My heart is broken right now and I don’t know how to repair it without him waking up, jumping out of bed and telling me he’s feeling fine and wants to curl up on the sofa with me to watch a cheesy chick-flick.
I’m cold… so very, very cold but my heart is burning for him, it’s so full of love for this man and as it breaks that little bit more, the endless supply of love pours out into my body. I close my eyes and imagine that liquid love seeping through my skin to saturate his, infiltrating each and every pore until his blood is mixed with it, taken over by it, healed by it… Oh god how I wish I could heal him with it.
Although I’m so terribly worried, I feel the most comforted I’ve been since I first heard this hideously sorrowful news, calm, quiet and soothed by our contact, my eyes still closed, both of my hands beneath his one, my face cradled in his palm - holding him the best way I can. Bea’s hand strokes my arm as she whispers for me not to move, she pulls the other chair close up to mine and rests against my back, holding me tightly so we can be here together, with our Oliver, loving him, missing him and silently praying for someone, anyone to help him.
~~~~~~~
We fell asleep like that, on and off, not wanting to move a muscle. I never fell deep enough for me to be shocked or confused when I woke - I think deep down, I’m fully aware of the situation, even in my sleep. So I stayed perfectly still, only moving my head slightly in my sleep to snuggle into his hand.
The doctor spoke gently to me, advising me that should I feel his hand move beneath my face, it’s perfectly normal and that patients in comas sometimes twitch or respond to touch or pain, so not to get myself excited that he’s coming around, he won’t be because the drugs are still working to keep him in a deep coma.
It did excite me a little, I would love to feel him moving, even if it was just a twitch, I could still let myself believe that he’s responding to my touch or the feel of my skin against his, but as it hasn’t happened yet, I’ll just hope that it might. Maybe I just want something to give me a little positivity, so I can believe he’s going to be okay, relieve the ache caused by the fear that he may not be ‘okay’.
CHAPTER 18
SATURDAY 17TH AUGUST
It must be around two in the morning and Bea and I are still at Oliver’s bedside, in the same position. His parents are close-by, but as I refuse to move my face away, refuse to tear my gaze from Oliver, I’m not sure exactly what they’re doing. I want to change my clothes, but I don’t want to leave him, what if something happens to him while I’m gone? I’ll never forgive myself… what if they decide to reduce the drugs while I’m not here? He can’t wake up without me.
The hospital staff are still here, monitoring, and the machines are still beeping away around him, nothing has changed, except Oliver losing Friday the sixteenth of August evening, of this year, to a coma.
Bea slowly moves away from me, and I hear her stand before she slowly makes her way to the door and slips outside, presumably to Daniel. I hear Emily sniffling and wonder if they might want some time alone with their son. It’s probably the hardest thing I’ve done, to contemplate letting go of his hand and moving away to give his parents some time alone with him, but I need to.
&nbs
p; I lift my head from his hand and kiss his palm before standing and leaning over to his face. “I’m going to step outside for a minute, darling,” I whisper, “to give your parents some time alone with you. I’ll be back in a bit to hold your hand again and talk to you. I love you so much. You’re my beginning, and my end, Oliver, and I’m going to be here with you, every step of the way until you’re back with me. I’ll be here until I can take you back to your house… our house, to continue with our lives, together. Love you… love you, darling.” I say, stepping away from him, watching his face for any type of movement, but of course; nothing.
“You have some time with your boy, I’ll step outside for a short while. Can I get you anything?”
“No, thank you,” Emily responds before Edward continues.
“But thank you, Clare, come back in whenever you’re ready, we know he loves you being here.”
I smile, welling up, and slip out of the double doors quickly before I break down again. I stop on the other side and take a long, deep breath to compose myself. I must stay strong. Daniel and Bea are standing in a tight embrace, both clearly exhausted, swaying slightly in silence.
Alexia smiles, sympathetically and stands to join me. “You okay? Can I get you anything?” she asks, rubbing my back, gently.
“No, thank you, Alexia. I just wish I wasn’t wearing this stupid, tight dress.”
“I am going to head back to the apartment in a while to get some food and clothes, would you like me to take Lex to get you some clothes from your place? Daniel asks, quietly.
I think about it for a moment, and I wouldn’t even know where to begin explaining where to find my clothes, or even what I want to wear. “No, thank you - I can’t really think straight at the moment.”
