Jade looks so defeated that I feel terrible for even calling the ambulance.
“Thank you, we’ll talk about it and let you know what we decide,” I say, as I shake her hand.
The doctor looks back at Jade as she comments, “Ms. Petros, if you care to be honest with the nurse about your pain level, I’ll order some more pain medicine so that you feel free to take a full breath without wincing and can actually open your eyes.”
“Jade, I think you should listen to the doctor,” I plead. “It’s not normal to be in as much pain as you are. Let them take care of you.”
Jade glares at me — or at least she tries to — as she huffs, “I thought you were supposed to be on my side.”
“Always, J. Even when it’s hard for you to tell,” I whisper softly.
As I wait for Jett to pick up the phone, I know that the move I’ve just made is going to make me about as popular as bug spray at a mosquito convention, but deep down, I know it’s the right thing to do. I just hope that some point in our lives, Jade forgives me.
“Go for Jett,” he greets brusquely.
“H-hello sir, this is Declan, I’m sorry to disturb your night,” I respond, stumbling over my words.
“You planning to bring her home anytime soon or is she growing roots in Jax?” he demands.
“Well… um… that’s actually why I’m calling,” I stammer. “I’d like to see her delay coming home a little bit. I think she’s anxious not to let everyone down, but I think she really needs to stay here.”
“What are you saying? Stop pussyfooting around. What’s going on?”
“Jade had a really bad migraine today and I had to call the ambulance because I couldn’t get her to wake up. She is here at the hospital having some tests and the doctor said they would like to see her be admitted.”
“Well, then she should be admitted,” Jett asserts, his voice getting louder with every word. “What’s the big deal? She has insurance. Have them do whatever they need to do to make her better. She’s had those headaches for years. I thought she was getting them treated. She takes medicine for them.”
“Jett, I don’t know. I’ve seen her with several migraines, but this was worse than any I’ve ever seen before. Honestly, it is scarier than shit. I thought she was going to die right in front of me. You know Jade — she doesn’t want to stay at the hospital, she thinks it’s just one of her normal, average, everyday headaches that she can take some Excedrin and get rid of. All you have to do is take one good look at her to know that it’s not true. Unfortunately, she’s not seeing that. She just wants to go home and be comfortable. I suspect that the doctors think that it’s something more serious this time but I don’t know that for sure. I just think that it’s important for you guys to be here. I hope I didn’t freak you out over nothing, but something in my gut tells me that she might need you guys for this,” I ramble on until I run out of steam.
When I’m greeted with absolute silence on the other end of the phone, I wonder if I’ve made an egregious error.
Finally, Jett lets out a growl of frustration as he admits, “I love that little independent icicle of mine, but sometimes she drives me crazy. Sometimes I just want to shake her and tell her that it’s okay to ask for help when you really need it. It sounds like she really needs it.”
“I’m hoping that it turns out to be nothing. The more realistic part of me suspects that the easy stuff would’ve been fixed by now. I think we’re on to the tough stuff.”
“For once, I hope you’re wrong,” Jett instructs gruffly. “Take good care of my baby.”
“I will. I can’t imagine my life without her,” I respond as I hang up the phone.
OKAY. FINE. I’M HERE. EVERYBODY is freaking thrilled. Everybody except me. I personally think the administrators who run and build hospitals should have to sleep in the rooms. Seriously? Who sound proofs these things? Did I really need to know that Mr. Smith’s catheter in Room 523 keeps coming out because he has a fondness for the Playboy Channel on his iPad? No. I did not need to know that. Nor did I need to memorize the walking pattern of every nurse and other miscellaneous employee on this floor; but since everybody’s shoes squeak and a closed door blocks out absolutely nothing, I don’t really have much choice.
I love Declan, I really do. Even so, sometimes he drives me nuts. Yesterday was a perfect example. I tried to reason with him about why I needed to go home. He was so stubborn — he never stopped insisting that he loved me so much that he wanted to keep me in the safest environment possible. I swear he recruited half the staff of the hospital to help convince me to stay. Finally, I just gave up. But it frustrates me that he doesn’t understand that I’ve been dealing with these stupid migraines ever since I can remember. I’ve tried a bunch of stuff, but so far nothing seems to help much.
When I was on the television show and we were filming in Los Angeles, they even sent someone out to fix the feng shui in my bedroom and someone else to align my chakras. I’ve had all sorts of piercings and acupuncture and tried just about every medication under the sun. None of it’s been more effective than a couple of anti-inflammatory pills and some ice to the back of my neck. Although, even I can admit that my headaches do seem much worse recently. I don’t know if it’s because of all of the reminders of Onyx, the stress with Dad about Ink’d Deep or just the fact that I’m not as young as I once was, but the migraines are starting to wear on me. What used to be a sometimes-thing is starting to be an almost-always thing. I guess if I’m truly honest with myself, maybe Declan is right maybe I need to stay here and figure out what the heck is wrong with me. Still, it’s so frustrating.
I’m startled out of my morose thoughts by a knock on the door. I expect it to be Declan, but I am surprised when I see Finn hesitantly standing in the doorway. He’s holding a brightly colored gift bag.
“Don’t just stand there if you’ve got presents!” I tease. “There has to be an upside to this place somewhere.”
Finn walks up to the edge of the bed and says, “Just for the record, I only got this because Middle Brother A said you would really like it. I’m still a little peeved at you.”
Of all the things I was expecting Finn to say, that was not it. “Peeved at me? What did I do to you?” I exclaim.
“Because of you I will have more gray hairs than I can count. You about gave me a heart attack. Why didn’t you let us know that you weren’t feeling well at dinner? We could’ve done something to help you sooner. I swear, Jade, you looked like you died right there on the spot. You were so pale you seemed like one of those shape shifter characters on TV.”
I’m used to the slightly cynical side of Finn. It is disconcerting to see him shaken up and concerned over my well being.
“I’m so sorry Finn. I’m just so used to the migraines that I just try to ignore them most of the time. I just figured that I would wait until after your mom’s dinner was over before I went to lie down. I didn’t expect to have all this drama and I certainly didn’t expect to end up here,” I explain.
Finn nods as he concedes, “Makes sense.” He smiles as he hands me the bag, “I understand you might get a kick out of this.”
I open the bag and find a large iPad with a drawing pen. I glance back up at him in shock as I ask, “You’re giving me an iPad with a stylus? One of the humungous ones? I know how much those cost. I priced them out for the shop to do tattoo consultations. That’s way too much for a present. I mean, I could maybe see it if I had donated a kidney or something, but I just have a headache,” I protest.
Finn chuckles and smirks at me as he says, “Yeah, there is definitely no doubt. You are much different from Shannon. She would’ve gobbled that up and asked for one in a different color.”
“Tell me you’re kidding. Don’t people have any self-respect anymore?” I ask rhetorically.
Finn shakes his head and mutters, “Not so much and I have the battle scars to prove it.” He speaks louder as he points to the iPad. “Don’t worry about that. Not long ago, I helped an executi
ve at Apple find an antique car he was looking for at a bargain price. He handed those out like they were playing cards.”
“You should totally give one to Declan, he uses them to compose his music since he hurt his hand. I think he would find the large one even more helpful than mine,” I suggest, thinking how much easier it would be for Declan to play the piano on the bigger screen.
Finn shakes his head in bemusement as he reveals, “I’ve already taken care of that. Declan tried to tell me you were this nice, but I didn’t really believe him. You’re starting to make a believer out of me. Maybe unicorns do exist—”
I’m trying to follow this conversation, really I am — but I’m so confused. Of course, it could have something to do with the fact that I got like, no sleep last night, but really? Unicorns? “What? What are you talking about — did you skip your morning coffee?”
Finn chuckles softly. “Never mind, I guess you had to be there. I’m just going to leave this here with you because I need to get to work. I hope they can figure out what’s hurting you.”
He pats my foot on the way out the door and I’m left to puzzle over his unexpected generosity.
I wake up to the sound of pages turning in a book. This is not unusual — Declan reads a lot. Trust me, when I have a migraine, the sound of rustling paper sounds like jet engines. It’s discouraging to me that even though I’m in the hospital with all sorts of medications at the doctors’ disposal they still haven’t been able to knock down my migraines to a manageable level. I look over to the recliner chair expecting to find Declan enthralled in his latest novel. He’s on a crime thriller binge reading kick these days.
Much to my shock, I see my mom engrossed in a book. When I let out a surprised gasp, a voice from the other side of the room emerges. “Mornin’, Jade. Feeling any better?” inquires my dad.
I shrug as I respond, “You know, kind of the usual. What are you doing here?”
“Baby, you’re in the hospital. Where would you expect us to be?” my mom counters with a confused expression on her face
“If it weren’t for my meddling boyfriend, you probably wouldn’t know about my little field trip here until after it was all over and I wouldn’t have to worry you guys half to death.”
“I’m grateful that the young man had the good sense to call us. We needed to be here for you. Sometimes I wish you weren’t so hardheaded like me,” my dad says, as he kisses me on the cheek.
From the shadows, Declan steps forward and hands me a cup from a nearby coffee place and a delicious looking pastry. “I figured you might want a break from the hospital food so I brought you a treat — chai tea with extra cinnamon. Has the doctor been in yet this morning?”
“No, they did a bunch of tests last night after I made you go home and get some rest, so he might be waiting for results from that. All I know is that the technician was making all sorts of frowny-faces while she was doing the exam. It makes my skin crawl.”
Just then, the neurologist pokes his head around the door and remarks, “I swear I felt my ears burning? Were you all talking about me?”
Not willing to miss a chance to deliver a barb, my dad retorts, “Yeah, actually we were. We were wondering if you had enough time between your golf games to come in and talk to my daughter.”
“Although I do like a good golf game, this particular morning, I was actually helping to repair a brain aneurysm, but thanks for asking,” the neurologist responds.
I cringe and interject, “I apologize for my dad. Sometimes, he thinks he’s funny.”
The doctor looks at me and grins. “I think that’s a pretty common ailment, so I don’t take offense.” His expression grows somber as he pulls up a round spinning chair next to my bed and sits down. He spreads out a bunch of ominous looking pictures on my bed. “Unfortunately, we have to talk about some serious stuff.”
“How serious?” asks Declan as he comes around the other side of the bed to hold my hand.
“It’s one of those good news and bad news situations,” the neurologist explains. “The good news is that I think that I found a definitive cause of your migraines and why they don’t respond well to medications.”
“What’s the bad news?” I ask in a voice so small, I hardly recognize it as my own.
The neurologist pulls out a black and white picture with splashes of blue and red. As he points to the picture with his pen, he says, “What you’re looking at here is a pretty sizable PFO in your heart; it means that blood is going directly from one chamber to the other in a direction that it’s not supposed to be traveling. This has been associated with an increase in migraines and stroke. I understand that your family has a pretty substantial history of stroke has well.”
“Oh… No… It’s true. She has it on both sides of the family,” my mom confirms under her breath.
“Wait — you’re saying Jade has an extra hole in her heart?” Declan asks after studying the pictures closely.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. We all start out that way when the heart forms, but usually it seals up in utero before we’re born. For whatever reason, Jade’s did not. It’s actually a pretty common deficit. A lot of people don’t even have any symptoms. However, Jade’s hole is actually pretty large and she is having debilitating symptoms. With her family history of stroke, I’m recommending she get the hole surgically repaired.”
“My dad just had open heart surgery and it was brutal. Are you sure that’s the best approach?” Declan probes.
“Fortunately, we can repair it through a catheter in her leg and it won’t require opening her chest,” he explains to Declan.
I’m still trying to sort out all the words that were dumped in my lap. Somehow I’m supposed to make sense of migraine, heart, hole and surgery all in one sentence. “Let me get this straight: I came into the hospital with a headache and now I have to have heart surgery to make it better?” I ask. “On what planet does that even make any sense?”
“Mother Nature is a fickle thing, these things rarely ever make sense. We just fix them the best we can.”
“What happens if I do nothing?” I ask, thinking of all the medical horror stories I’ve seen in the news recently.
“Like I said, for most folks it’s not a big deal. Because of your headaches and history of strokes, I think it’s a bigger issue. I would strongly recommend that you pursue it. I’m going to arrange for you to have a follow-up visit with a cardiac specialist and I’ll be happy to forward all your testing to whomever you would like to see for a second opinion. This is too important to be sloppy about,” the doctor advises.
“Do you think that this will help her headaches?” Declan asks.
“I can’t make any guarantees. The literature is mixed but a lot of patients report a huge improvement.”
“Jade, did you hear him? A huge improvement. That would make a major difference in your life,” Declan offers, sounding encouraged.
“I know, but I’m still stuck on the words ‘heart surgery’. I would have never guessed that at my age, I would be facing heart surgery,” I lament.
The neurologist smiles. “Every patient that I talk to regardless of age says just about the same thing. I know it’s a big decision, but I think that in your case it would be warranted.”
“When can I go home?” I ask, feeling a little petulant and obstinate.
“I’ll try to coordinate it with whoever’s in charge of the floor today, but we should be able to get you out of here by this afternoon. I’ll make referrals to some specialists so that we can see about what we can do to reduce your headaches. I’m just sorry that it has to be so dramatic.”
After the doctor leaves the room, I flop against the pillows and exclaim, “A hole in my heart? Can you even believe that?”
My mom draws in a shaky breath and lets out a little sob.
As he walks over to her and pulls her up into an embrace, my dad asks, “You okay?”
My mom nods against his neck and shudders. She pulls away and explains, �
�All this is scary, but I was just remembering when Onyx was little. Do you remember this, Jett? Onyx used to go around with a little medical set and pretend to be a doctor. He used to listen to your chest, Jade. He would come to me with a sad expression on his face and announce that there was something wrong with your heart. I always dismissed him because I figured that he was pretending. Now I wonder if your brother knew something all those years ago. He was always crazy overprotective of you.”
My eyes tear up as I remark, “Onyx was always exceptionally perceptive. It wouldn’t surprise me if he knew all along.”
I’m shocked that my dad allowed Declan to drive me home from the hospital. I’m well aware of the fact that I’m an adult — but sometimes my dad forgets. If there was ever an excuse for him to forget, learning that I need heart surgery is probably one of them. I’m still having a hard time with that concept myself.
When Declan returns to our picnic table with some jerk chicken and grilled vegetables from this amazing food truck we found, I can’t keep it together anymore. I’m going to miss being able to do all of these things together. I don’t see how we can manage this. Declan has enough going on in his life between his dad and his brother, he doesn’t need one more thing with me.
I feel like I’m being torn in a million different directions. Part of me doesn’t want to do the surgery at all. It seems really risky for just headaches — but then I remember taking care of my grandparents after their strokes. Strokes are nothing to mess with. Understandably, my parents want me back in Gainesville so that they can take care of me. Honestly, I just want to be wherever Declan is. Sadly, the logistics of that are a nightmare and whenever I start to think about it, my emotions get the best of me.
After Declan arranges the food in front of me, he looks up and catches the expression on my face. Immediately he rushes around the table. He scoots me forward on the wooden plank and sits behind me and envelops me in a full body hug. “Talk to me, J,” he whispers against my hair.
Hearts of Jade (A Hidden Hearts Novel Book 3) Page 18
