Page 120 of Falling into Place
Right. Well, that was fair. Brooks hadn’t exactly established himself as one of those providers who asked how his patients’ families were doing.
“I wanted to talk to you about your dad. I have some good news.”
The slightest flicker of something besides wariness flashed across Connor’s face, there and gone in an instant. Again, Brooks understood. He’d kept his guard up pretty high, too.
“Your dad’s numbers are looking good. He’s moving oxygen well, heart is staying strong, and we’ve been able to wean sedation. We’re ready to try extubating, which means we’ll take out the tube that’s helping him breathe. I’m hopeful he can do it on his own now.”
Connor had gone still, his face paling as Brooks spoke. “You ... you mean he’s going to be okay?”
“I can’t promise anything, and he still has a long road ahead of him. But things have gone very well in the past few days, and I’m optimistic.This is a step in the right direction, and I’ll do everything I can to help him. Okay?”
Connor’s throat worked as he swallowed, and as if in slow motion, his lips turned down and his lids clamped shut as he fell apart. His arms came up to shield his face, and before Brooks knew what he was doing, he’d moved to the other side of the table and pulled the kid close. Connor didn’t return the embrace but didn’t pull away, instead leaning into Brooks as sobs racked his thin body.
“It’s okay,” Brooks heard himself say. “You’re okay.”
“He has to get better,” Connor said, voice trembling. “First my mom ... and I just—I can’t ...” He couldn’t finish, tears stealing his breath.
“Yes, you can. I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but you’ll get through this.” Brooks’s own voice shook as he recalled the words Coach had once said to him when he felt so out of control and out of hope. “I lost my mom when I was young. So believe it or not, I know how you’re feeling right now. Like the whole world is ending.”
Connor nodded against his shoulder.
“Just take it one day at a time, okay? And when you feel like you can’t breathe, talk to someone. Do you have someone like that? That you trust and you can go to?”
He sniffed. “My aunt and uncle. And my cousin Brady.”
“Good. And I know you don’t know me, but you can talk to me, too, if you want. I may not know what to say, but I’ve been in your shoes. And I’ll always be honest with you. Okay?”
“Okay.”
For several minutes they remained like that, Brooks the steady presence for once. The one holding strong for someone who needed him. He kept his arm around Connor as his tears slowed and his shoulders relaxed.
“It’s okay.” Coach’s voice broke, and Brooks cried harder. “You’re okay. I’ve got you, son.”
“I hate this,” he hiccuped. “I hate it.”
“I know.”
“I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can.” Coach grabbed him by the shoulders and looked him in the eye, his own eyes red-rimmed. “I know it doesn’t feel like it now. But you can do this. You will.”
And he had. He’d made it through somehow, and Connor would, too.
Eventually, Connor’s uncle had called, looking for him, and Brooks made his way back to the ICU. He claimed a free computer at one of the nursing stations and worked on a few patient charts, unaware of the time until a familiar voice floated over him.
“Hey, Dr. Martin.”
He looked up and smiled. “Hey, Nikki. How’s it going?”
She laughed. “I’m surviving.”
“It only gets worse from here,” he joked. “But you knew what you were getting into.”
“I did,” she said with a laugh. “I’m glad I saw you, actually. I’ve been hoping to run into you.”
“Oh? Is there something I can help you with, for the program or something?”
“No, nothing like that. Everything’s great. It’s, um, it’s about you, actually. Remember last month when I told you what I’d heard about you?”
