“We’ve sent samples to several labs for analysis. Some of the tests take time to incubate for conclusive results. Some have already come back negative and we’ve gathered other samples.”
Tears welled up in Chelsea’s eyes. She’d been so strong. At least it felt like it to her.
“Sitting here with your young man, it may seem like nothing is being done other than monitoring. Nothing is farther from the truth, Chelsea. In his room, the important thing is to keep him alive and as comfortable as possible. Outside ICU, doctors and lab technologists and researchers around the world are analyzing results, discussing options via Skype, and working as an extensive team to win this battle.”
The magnitude staggered her. “For Keanan.”
“Yes. For Keanan. But every time we win a battle like this, we learn more how to win it faster the next time. More conclusively. Medicine has made great strides in the last century, but there is still much we do not know. Whatever Keanan contracted is extremely rare, but he is in God’s hands. I hope that is as much comfort to you as it is to me.”
She stared at him dully. “You’re saying he still might not survive this.” How could she fly back to the US if he died? She’d have to arrange for his body to be taken home. She might have once planned Allison’s parents’ funeral, but she couldn’t do it for Keanan. She couldn’t.
“There are never guarantees.” The doctor ran his hands through thinning salt-and-pepper hair. “In the six days since Keanan arrived in ICU, they’ve lost four patients. An elderly woman from kidney failure, a young man from a lion mauling, and two men from a vehicle accident. None of us knows when our days on Earth will be done.” He smiled wanly at Chelsea. “It’s my job to make sure people like Keanan don’t go before their time.”
The words made sense in one way. Chelsea remembered her Aunt Pam, who’d died too young of uterine cancer. The friends from high school who’d been killed in an avalanche on a ski trip. But... Keanan. Not him. Please, Lord.
Dr. van Leeuwen rose. “As your attending physician, I order you to get several hours of sleep. I will call Vince myself to take you from this hospital. I will have someone phone you immediately if you are needed here. At any rate, it will be over an hour before he’s back from the scan. His fever is still high — worrisomely so — and we’ve increased the level of sedation.”
Chelsea sucked in air. If only her world would stop spinning. She blinked, trying to focus.
Dr. van Leeuwen tapped into his phone. As from a great distance, she heard him ask Vince to send someone for her. “Chelsea, don’t come back for at least five hours if I don’t call you, okay? Get rest. A shower. Food. You’ll be no good to Keanan when he begins his recovery if you are too exhausted to cope.”
A shower? Chelsea touched her tangled curls. She must look a sight for the distracted doctor to notice. She wanted to argue — desperately — but he was right. She was too tired to fight his orders.
“I’ll ask Ross to take you to where you’ll meet Vince.” Dr. van Leeuwen rested his hand on her arm. “Prayers for Keanan fill my thoughts.”
Chelsea took off her glasses — man, those things needed cleaning — and swiped her sleeve across her eyes to catch the tears. Her makeup was probably a disaster, too. “Thank you.” A sudden thought hit her. “Are you getting any sleep?”
The doctor gave her a tired smile. “Not a lot. There is a bed here where I can retreat for an hour or two as the situation allows. People who can’t function on irregular sleep rarely make it through medical school.” He glanced at a young black man dressed in navy standing nearby. “Here’s Ross. Off you go. I’ll talk to you again in a few hours.”
Chelsea allowed herself to be led away, the pain of separation from her beloved deepening with every step. Everything in her screamed to disobey the orders for rest, but she didn’t have the energy to fight back.
* * *
Keanan blinked and slowly opened his eyes. Where was he? Why was he lying in a semi-darkened room he couldn’t remember seeing before? Chelsea! Where was she? Had he dreamed her nearness?
He tried to get to his elbows and couldn’t even raise his shoulders off the bed. Couldn’t lift his hands. He tried to see why not, but it was too much effort.
“Easy now, young man. Relax.”
Simple for that deep voice to say. He wasn’t the one with not even a trickle of energy in his veins. He heard a beep and then footsteps.
A second face loomed beside the first. Both unfamiliar. He should really stop reading crime novels. He didn’t have any secrets that interrogation could reveal. They had the wrong guy.
“Keanan? Dr. van Leeuwen will be here in a minute. How are you feeling?”
Keanan tried to make a sound but something clogged his mouth. His hands refused to lift and remove whatever it was.
“Relax. I know you can’t answer with the ventilator hose. Can you hear me? Understand me? Blink twice.”
That he could do. The voice was in heavily-accented English. Like... something he couldn’t remember.
“Good, good. Vital signs are positive. And here is Dr. van Leeuwen.” The black man stepped aside as another took his place.
“You’ve been a very sick man, Keanan Welsh. Remember meeting me on the plane into Joburg? Two blinks.”
Keanan stared at him. Was this familiar? He shook his head slightly.
The doctor nodded. “I’m not surprised with all that’s happened. Many of us are thanking God that I was here in Pretoria when you became ill. It’s enabled the top infection specialists in the world immediate access to your test results. We’re working hard to make you well.”
“Chelsea?” Only the word couldn’t come out past the tubes. Why were there tubes?
“The ventilator is to help you breathe. I know you have questions for me, young man. I’ll try to answer them, but you won’t likely recall the answers. That’s okay.”
Keanan tried to pour question marks from his eyes even while his lids drooped.
“Maybe it will be a comfort to know that your fiancée is here. I sent her to get a bit of rest. I’m sure she didn’t get much on the flight and she’s been here twenty-four hours already. She’ll be back.”
Chelsea? In Africa? Impossible. He shook his head slightly.
The doctor grinned. “She will. You’ll see. But for now, you need to get more rest yourself. You’ve got a big battle going on, but we’re going to win this one. Trust in God, Keanan. Hold the faith.”
Hold the faith. The room began to slide back into oblivion. Chelsea. God. Yes.
* * *
Chelsea paced the corridor outside ICU. “Why didn’t you call me? I needed to see him. Talk to him. Know he knew I was here.”
“There wasn’t time. He was only alert for a few minutes.” The doctor ran his hands through his hair. “We have a name for the bug he caught.”
She stopped so suddenly she nearly stumbled. “What is it?”
“Nothing you’ve ever heard of, I’m sure. It’s extremely rare.”
“You already said it was.”
“Fusobacterium Necroforum.”
He was right. She’d never heard it before.
“I know you’ll want to run a search.” He pressed a paper with the long words scrawled on it into her hands. “The results will terrify you. I guarantee it. You need to remember he’s already beat the odds by staying alive for over a week.”
Chelsea drooped against the wall. “He still might d-die?”
“Now that we know how to treat it, we should soon see marked improvement, but the odds are still stacked against him. His fever is still high. He’s fighting both the bacteria and pneumonia. We’ve added a central line to speed the targeted antibiotics straight to his heart, so don’t be alarmed to see another tube in his body.” The doctor rested his hand on her arm. “Keep praying, Chelsea. Let your people know back home that we expect him to turn a corner very soon.”
From what he’d said, it could be either corner. To health, or... no, she wou
ldn’t go there. “Thank you for everything you’re doing. I can’t even begin to tell you—” She choked back a sob.
“Read Psalm 27, Chelsea. Claim it. Read Scripture to Keanan as well, if you haven’t been. We don’t know how much he can absorb while under sedation, but we must always assume a patient’s understanding is higher than it seems. That’s why we’re never talking about the tough stuff in his room.”
“Psalm 27?” She had a bunch of Bible versions on her phone app. Which was Keanan’s favorite again? The Voice.
She took her place beside Keanan’s bed and ran her fingers down his arm and hand. Unresponsive. She couldn’t get close enough to his face to kiss him without disturbing wires and hoses and gadgets. Definitely not an option.
“Keanan, love? It’s Chelsea. Dr. van Leeuwen said he’d talked to you a couple of hours ago. That you were awake for a bit. Did he tell you I’m here? I came because I love you.” No discussing the terror, the trauma, or the fact that he still might not survive.
“I’m going to read to you. The doctor suggested Psalm 27, so here goes. Ready?”
Had she expected a response? No, but one would certainly be welcome.
“The Eternal is my light amidst my darkness and my rescue in times of trouble, so whom shall I fear? He surrounds me with a fortress of protection, so nothing should cause me alarm.”
Her eyes skipped forward over a few verses. “His house is my shelter and secret retreat. It is there I find peace in the midst of storm and turmoil. Safety sits with me in the hiding place of God. He will set me on a rock, high above the fray.”
Chelsea didn’t feel like she was above the battle but in the thick of it. She took a deep breath. No. God was a shelter. He was giving her the ability to see Keanan like this without dissolving into a full-on mess.
“God lifts me high above those with thoughts of death and deceit that call for my life. I will enter His presence, offering sacrifices and praise. In His house, I am overcome with joy as I sing, yes, and play music for the Eternal alone.”
Memories of the night baby John was born slammed into her sideways. Of the times since then when Keanan had allowed her to listen in while he worshiped the Eternal.
She read the next verse to herself. I cannot shout any louder. Eternal One — hear my cry and respond with Your grace. She kept scanning. Surely the doctor hadn’t meant to read all of this to Keanan, not after his admonition to keep the talk positive.
Chelsea thumbed off the phone and pulled out the index cards. She turned the laminated edges and read aloud all the promises of God’s love that Keanan had written out for her in his bold handwriting.
She ran her fingers over the veins in his hand. “I love you so much, Keanan. I need you to know that. To believe it. But what I’m most thankful for is how you led me back to Jesus. Knowing you has changed my life completely. Forever.”
Had she imagined it? Had his fingers really moved? She focused on his face. On his green eyes peering back at her.
Should she tell someone he was awake? Too late. A nurse swished past her. “Ah, there you are, young man. Remember the tubes are there to help you breathe, so you mustn’t touch them.”
How could he? Chelsea hadn’t missed the restraints on his wrists.
Keanan’s eyes tracked the nurse and blinked twice. Then he turned his head a fraction of an inch and focused on her again.
“I love you, Keanan.” She tangled her fingers with his and felt him try to turn his hand to grasp hers. “It’s okay, my love. Everything is going to be all right.”
Chapter 33
“Not too much longer in this cubicle, then.” The male nurse wheeled Keanan back after removing the ventilator. “Look at you, breathing for yourself and all that.”
“When can I go home?” The words coming through Keanan’s throat were raw and hoarse.
“That might be a bit yet. You’re from America, right? First, let’s think about getting you to a bed on the general ward.”
He’d gotten the idea that he’d been very sick. So much of the past few days seemed hazy, but one thing Keanan knew for sure. The angel with the golden curls and blue eyes at his bedside nearly every time he awoke was his Chelsea.
She’d come all the way to South Africa. Nothing was wrong with his memory of the autumn months in Idaho. Africa was the last place she wanted to go yet she was here. Because of his illness, whatever that was.
“Your young lady will be here in a few minutes, so let’s get you cleaned up before she arrives.”
Keanan nodded and allowed Ross to care for him, as helpless as baby John who could only lie there and accept the ministrations of others. Zach and Jo’s infant had loving parents to meet his every need. Keanan had God, several skilled doctors and nurses… and an angel.
So much to be thankful for. His eyelids drooped by the time the nurse finished. It seemed like he’d put in a full day’s work at Green Acres rather than lying like a lump on a log while someone washed him and changed his sheets.
“Keanan? You’re off the vent!”
His eyes sprang open and he turned his hand palm up on the sheets. “Chelsea,” he croaked.
Her gaze took in the machines and lines that still connected him then she threaded through them and leaned over him, clutching his hand, nuzzling her lips against his cheek.
He lay very still — not that he had much choice — and absorbed her presence. Her touch. What had the psalmist said? He’d heard it somewhere recently. I will move past my enemies with this one, sure hope: that with my own eyes I will see the goodness of the Eternal in the land of the living.
This was the goodness of God at work. He was alive and the woman he loved was pressed against him.
He turned his face toward hers, feeling her tears on his cheeks. “Chelsea,” he whispered. “Don’t cry. God is good.”
“He’s amazing.” Her voice caught. “Oh, Keanan. It’s so good to see you without that tube. To see you awake.”
He couldn’t overcome the grip of her hand to squeeze back. But there was no need. Just this once, he’d accept all her love and kisses and tears, and simply revel in the brush of her curls against his face.
After a moment she pulled back enough to wrap his cheeks between her hands and look deeply with all the intensity of her blue eyes.
His emotions swirled and tears prickled his eyes. He’d never seen her like this. Had he? The guardedness was gone. The Chelsea here in this room was fully present. No reserve.
She brushed her lips against his then wiped his eyes with her thumbs. “Don’t cry, Keanan. I’m here. Everything is going to be all right.”
“But how? Why?” If only he could remember what had happened. But everyone — Dr. van Leeuwen, the nurse, and now Chelsea — seemed happy. Said things were better.
“You’ve been very sick, my love. Vince sent for me, and I came. I’ve been right here as many hours a day as they would let me.”
A memory simmered. “Reading the Bible.”
She nodded. “Reading the cards you made me. Reading the Psalms.” Her fingers combed through his hair, still damp from the sponge bath. “God loves you, Keanan. He loves me.”
He rolled his head to one side, capturing her hand beneath his cheek. “I know. He really does.” With supreme effort, he lifted one hand and touched her. “I love you, too.”
* * *
Keanan drifted back to sleep with a slight smile on his face and his fingers still tangled with hers. She tucked her toe around the chair’s leg to scoot it at an angle so she didn’t have to relinquish that touch.
He was off the ventilator. He was breathing on his own. Other machines still took care of assorted life-sustaining needs, but that fact didn’t negate this huge victory.
Chelsea closed her own eyes. Easier to pray without the distraction of the beautiful man in the bed beside her. To allow herself to wonder, for the first time, about things at home. Home in Oregon, home in Idaho. She needed to send an email and let everyone know this first huge sign of
Keanan’s recovery. It could wait a few more minutes.
How long had she been here? The days and nights were likely as jumbled in her mind as they were in Keanan’s. She’d experienced nothing of Africa beyond the traffic between the mission headquarters and the hospital.
Keanan wouldn’t be up for crossing the Atlantic for a while yet. Dr. van Leeuwen hadn’t said that, but Chelsea wasn’t born yesterday. Keanan would have to be well enough to sit for hours and navigate airports.
Christmas!
She bolted upright in her chair and let go of Keanan’s hand. What day was it, anyway? She thumbed on her phone. December 24.
Christmas Eve.
She was going to be in South Africa for Christmas. Sitting in a hospital still, no doubt. She couldn’t stop the giggle that erupted. Who could have known this was exactly where she wanted most to be?
* * *
Keanan shuffled down the hospital corridor, pushing a wheeled pole with his intravenous bag on it. His other hand was caught in Chelsea’s strong grip.
“Merry Christmas!” called a nurse.
“Is it really Christmas?” Keanan leaned closer to Chelsea. “I don’t have a gift for you.” He frowned, searching his memory. “I was going to send something back to Portland with Dr. van Leeuwen but I don’t remember if I bought it yet.”
“Seeing you up and walking with only one line stuck in your body is all the gift I need.” Chelsea’s blue eyes, looking up at him, glistened with tears. “I didn’t bring anything for you, either. I was on my way to the airport less than an hour after I knew I had to come.”
“You brought yourself. That’s so far beyond a gift that it’s a treasure.” Keanan draped his arm over her shoulders. How he wished he had more strength, though this was a far cry from when he awakened a couple of days ago. Patience. He’d get stronger every day until he could twirl Chelsea right off her feet. He couldn’t help the grin spreading across his face.
Plum Upside Down (A Farm Fresh Romance Book 5) Page 24
