Just an Illusion - EP
Page 5
When I get back to the room, Tony is outside talking to the doctor and a woman. “It’s time to talk to Mel about what’s next. This is Mrs. Johnson, she’s the hospital transplant coordinator,” Tony informs me, and I give a slight nod.
“So … the testing?”
“Was what we expected, Mr. Weston. I’m sorry, but as I stated before, this is only a formality.” My heart drops. Even though I knew what to expect, I was hoping Mel’s impassioned pleas could make the impossible happen.
After entering the room, we pull four chairs to the bedside and Tony opens the dialogue.
“Amelia, can we have a conversation about Noah’s wishes?”
With a loud sniffle, her broken eyes meet his. “I guess so.”
“Two days after the wedding, Noah updated his documents. He has an advanced directive specifically prohibiting heroic measures to extend his life in an instance such as this. He’s also expressed his wishes to be an organ donor. Amelia, are you following me so far?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
“Okay, even though these are Noah’s wishes, he’s given you medical power of attorney, which means you have the choice of whether or not to honor these wishes. He’s put his faith in you, to choose what is best for him since he can’t. If you should choose to not be his medical power of attorney, he’s requested Sawyer be appointed.”
Fuck me.
Mel gingerly sits up and grips the rail for support as tears stream down her cheeks. “But why? I can’t make this decision for him! Why would he do that to me? Why would he make me be the one to decide if he lives or dies?” Her emotional pleas are heartbreaking, but I understand her thoughts because I feel the same way.
“Because you’re his wife and there’s no one he trusted more than you to make sure his wishes and best interests are being looked after. Except for Sawyer, who has always been his designee until you became his wife.”
“Mrs. Weston,” the doctor intervenes, “I know this is an impossible situation and you should make an informed decision. Our hospital is one of the best neurological institutions in the country. We have technology other facilities would love to have at their disposal. That fact your husband made it for the birth of your son is a miracle. After twelve hours, and with two doctors’ signatures, we can officially declare him brain dead. We’re at the halfway point. If you would be comfortable bringing in specialists from other facilities to perform additional neurological checks, I’d encourage you to do so, but I don’t expect any other outcome.”
Mel’s eyes flare with anger. “So my husband’s life is only worth twelve hours? Is that what you’re saying?”
“No, not at all. I’m sorry for what you’ve been through, but many hospitals would make this call at six hours with the injuries your husband sustained. If there were some hope, any hope at all, I’d give it to you. With injuries as catastrophic as his, there isn’t any hope left.”
Mel’s eyes dart between us and Noah as tears stream down her cheeks. I feel like I’m swimming inside a fishbowl and I can see the world outside but nothing makes sense.
“Four specialists. Find them, Tony. Get whoever you have to, fly them from wherever you need to, I will pay whatever they ask.”
Then she turns her fiery gaze back to the doctor. “No less than twenty-four hours and four specialists. After that, I’ll give my consent only if all four specialists agree with the determination the other two already gave.”
She then turns to the transplant coordinator. “And you want my husband’s organs, right? I have to give consent for that?”
The coordinator meets her glare with a sympathetic look. “I’m here because the family said Noah wanted to be a donor. If that’s something you’d like, too, I will call in The Organ Procurement Network to get things moving. One of their representatives will come out to speak with you all a bit more. Mrs. Weston, I understand how difficult this is, I—”
“You what?” Mel asks softly.
“I was in your place last year when I lost my husband.”
“I’m sorry,” Mel says. “Noah is the most selfless person I’ve ever known. He would want to donate. I will give consent if, and only if, all six of these doctors come back with the same answers and not sooner than twenty-four hours.”
That’s it. Mel just set a ticking clock and the countdown begins now.
Left Behind
Amelia
For twenty-four hours straight, I pray for a miracle I know deep down will never come. With my head resting on Noah’s chest, I listen to his heart beat every second I can. I only move long enough for restroom breaks, doctors to check him, and for them to check me.
Everything in my body hurts. I’ve never felt pain like this before, but the pain in my heart, in my soul, trumps anything my body is going through. Most of the time Sawyer sits in a chair in the corner while I cry, weep, and plead with God not to take Noah. I wait anxiously for Noah’s loving arms to suddenly wrap around me tightly and for him to kiss the top of my head like he’s done so many times before. But it never happens; Noah never so much as flinches.
When the last specialist finishes, Tony, Sawyer and I talk over the results. They all show the same thing, Noah is gone. Each of the doctors went over their results with us but we wanted to look them over one last time as a whole. Six of the world’s best neurological experts unanimously agree—nothing more can be done.
After we finish, the doctors step back inside and have me sign the necessary paperwork. I can barely scribble a line I’m so upset. The hopelessness in the air suffocates us all. Before leaving, the doctors agree to sedate me so I can say my goodbyes. When I wake up, it will be over; however, it will only be the beginning of my nightmare. I’ve got no idea how to live without Noah and Belle.
With their deepest sympathies ringing in my ears, I know my time is up. I have to find a way to say goodbye to the love of my life so the people who have loved him his whole life can say their goodbyes, too. I’ve been selfishly taking up almost all of what little time we had left with him, but they had so much of his past and I had so very little.
Tony and Sawyer follow the doctors out, but Sawyer returns a few moments later with Nate. My son, who is perfect in every way and who I’m terrified to even touch. But I will for Noah, so he can say goodbye. Bringing the baby close, I line his lips up to Noah’s cheek and press them together. I know it’s not exactly a kiss, but it’s the best I can do, especially with the tube in the way. I pull Noah’s arm around Nate and position us into a family hug the best I can.
My eyes catch Sawyer’s—his are bloodshot and broken and my heart aches for him. I wish I could comfort him right now in his time of need, but I can’t even see past my own grief to help him with his.
“Say goodbye to Daddy, Nate,” I say on a sob as I pass the baby to Sawyer to take back to whoever has been keeping him while I’ve been here. When Sawyer leaves, I press the call button for the nurse so they can medicate me as I try to figure out how to say goodbye. The first thing I do is kiss his head, his cheek, and the corner of his lips before bringing my mouth to his ear.
“I don’t know how to do this, Noah. How do I say goodbye to you when I just found you?” I pause and try to clear my throat. It’s pointless; I want to be strong for him, but my crying supersedes my strength. “We were supposed to be a family and now I’m alone. I can’t be the mother he needs. You should have been the one who lived, you are the better parent for him.” My sobs are uncontrollable, but I have to find a way to push through. “I pray you and Belle are together right now. Take care of her, Noah, watch over her for me. I’m not sure how to live without you both, or if I even want to. She’s my best friend and you’re the love of my life, what am I supposed to do without you guys?”
The door opens and I nod as the nurse comes inside. There’s never going to be a good time for this, and as much as I’d love to stay in Noah’s arms forever, his family is waiting. I pull his arm around me and rest my head over his
heart. After injecting the medicine into my I.V. port, the nurse leaves and I feel it taking me fast. “I’ll love you forever, Noah. Thank you for loving me and showing me what love is. Please watch over Nate and me and if you can, keep me from messing this up. I’m so scared, Noah, but I love you, I love you … I love you …”
When I wake up, the sun is streaming through the window of my hospital room. I feel like Noah is in those rays of light somehow. Mama and Eli are at my bedside and Sawyer is sitting on the floor in the corner of the room. His head between his legs, his body is wracked with sobs, and Nate’s bassinette is next to him.
“He’s gone?” I whisper.
Eli squeezes my hand. “Yeah, Mel, about three hours ago. I’m so sorry.”
Silent tears stream down my cheeks, but I’m numb. “How did I get back here?”
Mama looks to Eli and he shrugs. “Do you really want to know?” he asks, and I nod. “Sawyer carried you back and tucked you in before saying his goodbyes.”
My eyes dart immediately to Sawyer, a whole other piece of my heart breaking for him. He’s a good man, but he’s going to be just as lost as I am without Noah.
“Can you give us a minute?” I ask, and they both exit the room. “Sawyer, can we talk?”
He looks up at me and shakes his head.
“Fair enough. Can you at least come closer so we can cry together?”
He complies, wheeling Nate over with him. My eyes take him in like a much-needed breath. My body relaxes slightly as I see his tiny body move as he inhales and exhales. All Belle and Noah would have wanted is for their children to be safe, and they are.
“Thank you for taking care of us.”
Sawyer looks up at me and speaks through his pain. “I promised him I would, and I always will.” His hand meets mine and he squeezes it lightly.
“I think you would have even if you didn’t promise. But Sawyer … we’re … we’re not your obligation. You don’t have to be there. I won’t hold you to it. I don’t want to be anyone’s last promise or debt. You’re off the hook, okay?”
Those words are painful to speak because I need Sawyer right now. He’s all I have left.
“There’s no hook, Mel … you’re family. We look out for each other, always.”
The two of us settle back into our own grief and I eventually drift off again, letting the medication take me under so I can forget, at least for a little while.
I wake up to Cadence babbling. When I look over, Eli and Darren are sitting next to me and Sawyer is sitting in the corner of the room. At least he’s in a chair this time, and he’s feeding Nate.
A pang of regret fills my heart that I’m not the one taking care of him right now, but I’m not ready. “Hey, baby girl,” Eli says as he gently squeezes my thigh.
“Hey,” I croak as Darren turns Cadence toward me. As soon as she sees me, she smiles, and I smile back at her through my tears. She’s Belle to a T. Darren looks about as bad as I feel, but at least he’s putting on a brave front for his daughter.
“The doctors say you can go home tomorrow and then we can all get out of here,” Darren says as he sets Cadence at the edge of my bed. Her fingers wrap around mine, and when she pulls them to her mouth, I feel it right away.
“She got her first tooth.”
“Yeah,” he says remorsefully. “Belle knew it was coming and she was right. I hate that she’s not here for this, for any of this.” Darren’s words split me open again and a steady stream of tears begin to flow.
“Me, too. What do you mean everyone can leave? Who’s here?”
“You’re joking, right, Mel?” From the look I give him he must be able to tell I’m not and he shakes his head in disbelief. “No one has left this hospital since you guys were brought in. Not one of us. We came in as a family and we go home as a family,” Darren chokes out.
“They don’t have to stay …”
“Yes, they do. Family sticks together. You’re one of us now, get used to it.” Sawyer’s tired-but-firm voice leaves no room for argument. “But just so you know, Diane and Rob left a little while ago to get back to the girls. They said to give you their love.”
A doctor and a nurse enter the room so Eli and Darren move to step out. Darren bends Cadence toward me and I place a kiss against her sweet little cheek.
“Mrs. Weston, how are you feeling?” the doctor asks and quickly corrects himself. “Physically, how are you feeling?”
“About the same, I guess. Sore, achy, broken, sad.”
The nurse moves to take my vitals and begins removing the tape from my I.V. when she’s finished.
“We’re moving you to oral medications. You’ll be discharged with something for pain and anxiety, as well as an antibiotic for your wounds. We’ll go over all your discharge instructions with you in the morning. Please be mindful that you are slightly concussed and will have to take it easy for the next three to six months.”
“Why so long?” I ask in a panic.
“You have three fractured vertebrae. There’s no treatment for them other than rest, restrictions, and time. We’ll get you a brace to wear if it helps with the pain, but it’s not necessary if you’re careful.”
“I didn’t realize …”
“I’m sure you didn’t. It’s been a rough few days and you’re extremely lucky to be alive … so is your son. I’d go as far to say you’re both miracles. You’ll need lots of help, but it seems like you have a good family support system.”
“She does.” Sawyer’s statement, once again, is firm and commanding.
“Very well. Nurse Reynolds is going to help you through a shower and give you your first dose of oral medication. She’ll assess your limitations as well as show you how to care for your wounds.”
“Okay, thank you.”
The nurse helps me up. Never once does Sawyer make a move to assist, but he watches cautiously from the chair just in case. In the restroom, she helps remove my gown, and I gasp when I get a look at myself in the mirror.
I’m black, blue, and purple pretty much everywhere. After removing the bandages from my head, she proceeds to remove the rest from my lower legs, where lines of staples fill my skin.
“We want to keep these covered while you heal a bit more, but you can remove the bandages for the shower. You’ll want to avoid taking a bath until after your postpartum recheck.”
I’d imagined all of this so differently. Noah hovering over me in the hospital tending to my every need, acting every bit the proud father he would have been. As sobs wrack my body, I grab onto the safety bar on the wall.
With a sympathetic gaze, Nurse Reynolds nods toward the shower. “It will make you feel better even if it hurts. Do you want the shower chair, or do you think you can stand?”
I appreciate her for not making me feel weak, for not acting like I shouldn’t be grieving, for not making me feel any more vulnerable than I already do.
“I think I’ll be okay.”
She lines up some toiletries on a shelf in the shower and turns on the water, then puts a shower bag over my cast. “I’m going to stand here. If you need help with anything, I’ll get in with you. My scrubs can be easily changed if wet.”
“Okay.” As I step into the shower, the warm water feels like it’s pelting my skin in rapid fire. It’s on the softest setting, but fuck it hurts.
Between my painful hisses and my curses for not being able to get the shampoo in my hair properly, Nurse Reynolds takes it upon herself to step inside and help me. I’m too sad to be embarrassed about it.
“I have a daughter your age,” she says as she soaps up my hair. “You remind me of her.” She pulls the showerhead down and rinses my hair before conditioning it. “I was on duty when you were brought in. What you went through wasn’t easy, and what you’re going to have to go through next will be hard. I witnessed you giving birth to that little miracle in there and I know you’ve got a tremendous amount of fight inside of you. When you feel like
you’re at the end of your rope, please remember that.” She sounds like she’s speaking from experience, but I don’t have a reply to give her.
After she finishes my hair, she steps back out and dries off a bit while I finish. Never once does she worry about her own comfort as she waits for me. After helping me dry off, she helps me into what she calls after-delivery panties and a fresh gown. I’m not sure I feel any better, but I do feel clean. The last of any physical particles from that night have been officially washed down the drain.
Mama is sitting next to my bed when we come out of the bathroom; she looks so tired and worn. It makes me feel guilty I’m here when Belle isn’t. “Hey, baby girl, let me help you brush your hair.”
My heart floods with love for her. “Mama, can I have a hug first? Please?”
With tear-filled eyes, she gently wraps her arms around me. “That I most definitely can do.”
This woman is my world. The only one aside from Belle and Eli who has seen me through darkness before.
After Mama brushes my hair and helps me get settled in bed, Nurse Reynolds brings me some medications and I thank her for all her help. When she leaves, Karen and Owen come inside, followed by a girl who’s about my age. They step aside to let the girl do her business; she seems nervous.
“Mrs. Weston, my name is Debbie and I’m from the hospital records department. I know the timing isn’t the best but I need a moment of your time.”
Sawyer comes closer and stands next to me with Nate, practically waiting to go in for the kill if she missteps. I can see the determination in his steely gaze.
“We need to verify that Nathaniel is your son’s given name. It is what we’re currently using on his medical records. This document is his official birth record. I need you to confirm the information, make any necessary corrections, and fill in the blank spaces.”
I hold up my broken wrist so she can see the cast.
“Oh, in that case, I can fill it out for you. We’ll have you sign it the best you can with your other hand once you confirm the information. We’ve completed the parent information already so you can let me know if there are any changes needed when you review it before signing.”