by Joe Lechene
Dr. Howell said, “Ian, they’re getting Tristan into a room now. His higher brain functions checked out, but he’s still unconscious. He’ll be in the ICU for a day under close observation. After that, only time will tell. He’ll be in 1016 and you’ll be able to see him after they get him situated. You can head up to the waiting room on the tenth floor and check in at the nurse’s station. They’ll let you know when you can see him.”
“Thank you, doctor, for everything.”
“You’re welcome. I hope everything comes out well.”
I shook her hand before she went back through the double doors. Since I still had to use the facilities, I went to the restroom before doing anything else. When I was done, I went to the elevators and pushed the ‘up’ button. When the bell rang, and the doors opened, I stepped inside. After pushing the button for the tenth floor, the doors closed and the elevator moved upwards. Mentally, I was preparing myself for the worst. Although, I was still looking forward to seeing my lover.
XV
Day One
It was almost six in the morning before the nurses would let me in the room with him. When I finally got to see Tristan, he looked absolutely horrible. Besides the casts on his limbs, tubes attached to his body, and wires coming from his chest and head; the rest of what I could see looked like a kaleidoscope of colors. His handsome face was covered in bruises ranging in different stages of development. His soft lips were already scabbing over where they were split open. If I didn’t already know him so well, I never would have recognized him in this condition.
The monitors behind him made their various beeps and noises as I sat down on the chair beside the hospital bed. I didn’t even know what most of the machines that were hooked up to him even did except for one. I sat down on the chair beside the bed and found his hand under the thin blanket. My eyes found the one monitor that I did know. The one that showed the beat of his tender heart. As I grasped his thin hand in mine, I was just thankful that he was indeed still alive.
Even after the thoughts that were going through my head earlier in the morning; I knew that he was going to pull through this. I pushed the negative thoughts out of my head and focused on our future lives together. I squeezed his hand letting Tristan know that I was there, but received no response in return. As I had been up all night and finally had Tristan by my side again, I sat back in the chair and closed my eyes. My rest was short lived when I heard the door slide open a few minutes later. When I opened my eyes, they found a relatively attractive doctor standing in front of them. He was older, but had the kind of look that kept me watching Anderson Cooper every night. Complete with the gray hair and piercing eyes to match.
I didn’t even realize that I was staring at him until he spoke. “Good morning, you must be Ian. I’m Dr. Alderez, Tristan’s neurologist. I just stopped by to see how he was doing.”
The doctor stuck his hand out and I shook it with my free hand. “Doctor, I appreciate the pleasantries, but it’s been a long night and he’s still unconscious.”
“Fair enough,” he replied. “I’ve reviewed all of the tests that we’ve done so far and concluded that there are no life-threatening injuries to his brain. He is suffering from TBI or traumatic brain injury.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Let me explain it as simply as I can. Tristan received several blows to the head which bounced his brain from one side of his skull to the other. Right now, his brain is swollen and trying to heal itself. It’s working so hard that it can’t do anything else. When it finally recovers, he should regain consciousness and come out of this coma.”
“COMA!”
“Yes, I’m afraid that right now he is in a coma. The recovery time will depend on the extent of the trauma. Once his brain has fully recovered, he should wake up. He will more than likely require some physical therapy depending on the length of the coma.”
“Wait a minute, what do you mean by ‘he should wake up?’”
“I’m sorry, I’m afraid that I have to phrase it that way in the event that he doesn’t. Coma’s can be extremely difficult to judge. His case looks promising though, I don’t foresee any complications.”
“So, how long will he have to stay in intensive care?”
The doctor replied, “We’ll keep him here under close observation for 24 hours. After that, he’ll be moved into a regular room. I’ll continue to check in on him daily. Unless I’m off of course, then it’ll be one of my colleagues. Plus, his other physicians will be in to check on him as well.”
I leaned back in the chair and squeezed Tristan’s hand. Even as the magnitude of his condition settled on me, there was no way that I was giving up hope of recovery. I thanked the doctor as he left the room. Listening to the machine beep to the rhythm of my man’s heart, I rested in the chair again. My own personal fatigue washed over me as I fell asleep in the chair.
…
I don’t care what anyone says, there is no possible way that you can get any rest in a hospital. Every time after I dozed off, somebody would come into the room and wake me up again. Either to check vitals, take more blood, or do some other test that had already been done before. I felt bad for my boyfriend, but at least he was able to sleep through it. By the time that morning came, I was in dire need of a coffee. Since nothing had changed in the time that Tristan had been up here, I got up from the chair and kissed his forehead before walking out of the room. After a short walk down the hall, I found the nurses station.
“Excuse me, is there a coffee machine on this floor?”
One of the nurses looked at me and said, “Honey, we have a coffee pot in our break room. I’ll get you a cup. It’s hard enough being up here, you don’t have to drink that machine crap.”
“Thank you, that would be great.”
She left the counter and returned a few minutes later with a full cup in her hand. I accepted the cup and thanked her again. It had cream in it, but I drank it anyway. Personal sacrifice was something that I was going to have to get used to. I knew that my own personal wellbeing was going to have to take a back seat while Tristan got better.
XVI
Week One
The past week had been a living hell for me. At least poor Tristan had the benefit of sleeping through it. After spending the first day in the ICU, Tristan was moved to another floor the next morning. It was a double room with a roommate that seemed to change every other day. I slept when I could in the chair beside his bed. Every other hour someone was coming into the room to check his vitals or take some more blood. They had taken so much already, I couldn’t understand how much more he had to give.
After the third day in here, I took over giving him the daily sponge bath. I couldn’t stand watching someone else cleaning his body. Besides, they didn’t have the same care and compassion to do it right. By the end of the week, I had finally taken the time to go home and shower myself. The smell coming from my more fragrant parts was getting to the point that I couldn’t stand it any longer. I brought my old laptop back with me along with enough clothes and some toiletries to get me through another week or two.
I desperately tried to get back into the book that I was working on, but I failed once again miserably. The angel in the bed beside me was drawing all of my attention away from my work. His body had become even more colorful than it was before, but he was still gorgeous in my eyes. My hand kept going back to his as he laid in bed deep in slumber. I wanted nothing more than to kiss his lips and look into those beautiful blue eyes.
Throughout all of this, part of me still wanted his parents to know what happened. By the end of the week, I was going through the phonebook calling everyone with the last name Beckman. The same that I had done before after Erik passed away. I didn’t realize how popular that last name was until I was on my second day leaving voicemails. It was Friday afternoon and I was about to give up when someone answered the phone.
“Hello,” the female voice said.
“Hi, my name is Ian. I am trying to l
ocate the parents of Tristan Beckman.”
She responded, “This is Lily, I have a son by that name. Oh my God, please don’t tell me that he’s dead.”
“No Mam, he’s still with us. Unfortunately, right now, he’s in a coma.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone. If the thoughts going through her head were anything like the ones I had, she was probably in a state of shock.
“Lily, are you still there?”
She replied, “Yes, where is he?”
I gave her the details for the hospital and she thanked me before hanging up the phone. After placing my phone back on the stand beside the bed, I took Tristan’s hand once again. I felt a tear run down my cheek as I looked at my man on the bed and thought about Erik. At least Lily still had a son to come to visit.
…
I was woken by a soft knock on the door. My eyes slowly opened to find a woman looking at us. She appeared to be an older female version of Tristan. He had all of her soft features including her lips and eyes. She just stared at her son with me holding his hand without saying a word.
“Lily?”
She nodded her head ‘yes’ as she started to cry. I stood up from the chair and walked over to her. I wrapped my arms around her back, pulling her into a hug. Even though I didn’t really know her, she was already like family to me. She laid her head on my shoulder as she let out her tears. This was probably the first time that she had seen her son in a long time and he definitely didn’t look his best. When she was done, Lily lifted her head from my shoulder and looked over to the bed.
Still looking at her son she asked, “What happened?”
“Well, that’s a long story. Have a seat and I’ll explain everything.”
She sat down on the chair that had become my home for the past week and held on to Tristan’s hand. I stood on the other side of the bed and rubbed the part of his arm that wasn’t covered by the cast. Lily listened as I told her everything that had happened over the past two or so years. She listened as I told her how I came across the boys begging for money on the streets in the dead of winter. About Erik getting beat while protecting his boyfriend and losing his life in the process. I left out some of the details about what happened after that. She didn’t need to know everything unless Tristan wanted her to know. But, I summarized the past few months the best that I could. When I told her about Tristan and I getting together, I could almost see a smile form on her face. Then came the gruesome details of the night that I found him being attacked in that very same alley. I started crying as I told her the events that had unfurled that night. Which brings us back to where we are now.
Lily continued to look at her son after I finished telling her everything. Without looking up at me she said, “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
She replied, “Yes I do. You took them in when you didn’t have to. You took care of my son when he needed it most. And you’re taking care of him now. You even went out of your way to find me and let me know what was going on. That means more to me than you will ever know.”
“You’re welcome, Lily. I love him. I don’t regret the decisions that I’ve made at all.”
She looked at me and responded, “I can tell that you do and I’m thankful for that too. Even though his father might not feel the same way, he needs someone in his life. I have to get back before Philip comes home from work. I’ll try to visit when I can. Please let me know if his condition changes any.”
We exchanged cell phone numbers and she gave me a hug. Before leaving the room, she kissed Tristan on the forehead. I could tell how much she cared for her son. It was a shame that her husband didn’t feel the same way. For the life of me, I still couldn’t understand how parents could shun their own offspring. I sat back down on the chair beside the bed and tried to continue working on my latest book. Maybe my work would help pass the time if I could concentrate on it long enough.
…
‘I rolled over onto the empty spot on the bed beside me. It felt strange not having his warm body pressed against mine. In fact, I missed having him around period. After getting so close to him, the lack of his presence was weighing heavily on my heart. Still not able to make sense of what happened between us, I grabbed his pillow and pulled it into my chest. Not having him with me felt like having a hole in my stomach. Like part of myself was missing. I held onto the pillow for dear life, debating if it was too early to call him and try to make things right.’
XVII
Week Two
The next week pretty much passed by the same as the first. Tristan’s mother stopped by every day during the morning to visit while his father was at work. I don’t think she even told him about what happened. Ms. Ebersole even peaked her head in a few times to check on him. It was nice to see that he had more people genuinely concerned for him than just me.
As for myself, I was still hanging on by a thread throughout this whole ordeal. Working on my latest novel helped pass the time during our stay here for me. I still hadn’t left the hospital since I ran home for clothes almost two weeks ago. In fact, the only time that I left Tristan’s side was to get food or use the restroom. At least his room had a restroom with a little shower in it.
As the week progressed, the doctors and nurses frequented the room less and less. They still came in to check his vitals every few hours. However, the blood work and other tests were virtually non-existent anymore. On the plus side, he was in pretty good shape. Other than the broken bones, bruising that was now pastel hues, and the whole coma thing. The only thing keeping him here now was the fact that he couldn’t wake up.
At the beginning of the week, Tristan started physical therapy. I didn’t see the point at first, but they explained what happens to muscles if you just lay in bed forever to me. Since I didn’t like anyone else touching my man, I made the therapist explain everything to me the first day. She came in the second day and watched me go through the routine. After that, I didn’t see her again.
Now it was Thursday night and I was walking back to Tristan’s room from the cafeteria. I got my food to-go so I could spend the time beside my baby. After walking back into the room, I sat back down on my chair beside my slumbering Tristan. I pulled his bed tray over like I had been and opened the styrofoam container. Using the plastic fork that I brought with me, I started eating my spaghetti. The food here wasn’t terrible, but I wasn’t going to miss it either.
After eating everything that was in my container, I got up and threw my trash away. I sat back down in my chair and found Tristan’s hand on the bed. With his hand safely back in mine, I sat back in the chair. It wasn’t that late in the evening, but I was having trouble keeping my eyes open. Surrendering to my closing eyelids, I let sleep take over my body.
…
I was woken by someone squeezing my hand. It wasn’t the hand that was laying on my lap though. It was the hand that was holding onto Tristan’s. After the realization of what was happening dawned on me, I sat straight up in the chair and looked at the bed beside me. I looked over at my lover and tried to see his face. I guess that it was later in the night than I thought since all of the lights in the room were off. Not letting go of Tristan’s hand, I stood up and turned on the light above the bed.
Tristan squeezed my hand again and I squeezed back in return. I looked at his face, hoping that there would be some sign of consciousness. The same resting look remained on his face though. Still, the thought that my Tristan was still in there washed over me like a tidal wave. As a tear slipped out from my eye, I bent over and kissed his sleeping lips. Just like the times that I had kissed him before, I was met with dry, motionless lips.
Right before I broke the kiss off, Tristan’s lips parted and softly kissed me back. Shocked by what was happening, I took my free hand and held the side of his face. I could feel his face flush and his cheeks move under my palm. As much as I was enjoying this, I didn’t want Tristan to strain himself any more than he needed too. Parting my lips
from his, I lifted my head up and looked at my baby. My eyes were met by his blue eyes staring right back at me. The eyes that I had longed to see for two long ass weeks.
Tristan yawned and asked, “Where are we?”
“Well, that’s a long story.” I pressed the nurse call button on the bed beside him. “Let’s get the nurse in here to look you over first.”
He raised his eyebrows and started to move his lips as a nurse rushed into the room. She looked at Tristan before looking at me. Then she looked at him again and walked over to the bed. The nurse pulled a penlight out of her pocket and used it to look into both of his eyes. After she clicked the light off, she put the pen back in her pocket and held her hand above his face with a couple fingers sticking out.
