Page 4 of Emily's Moments
If only I had known.
Shaking the memory away, I took a deep breath in and out. Trying to keep myself calm, and remember this was not Alex, nor his situation. Jefferson was not Alex. He wouldn’t leave me. I was simply thankful he’d been as stable as he had been the last two days. I was expecting something bad to happen, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but the longer time stretched on, the more I felt like I could breathe a little better. I could feel my guard go down a little bit. A really little bit. We made it past that first hurdle.
We could do this. He could pull through.
“You can do this. Stay with me, Jeff, please. Come back to me,” I kissed his hand. “I miss you, Jefferson.” I rubbed his hands, massaging them, knowing it was a good way to keep his hands from getting stiff. I also asked for something, like bootsfor his feet, if he’s going to be like this longer, to help prevent foot drop. I was catching up on nursing protocols, reading, and doing all I could to be proactive in Jefferson’s recovery.
Anything to help him.
Ryder came to visit after his grandpa had the NG tube placed. He came in, and he sucked in a breath. Tears sprang to my first grandbaby’s eyes. He was in his first year of college, aiming for law school next. He was a giant of a boy at six-four, but he still let his grandma wrap him up in a hug. My little guy just cried into my shirt, dwarfing me and soaking my shoulder. He was taking this hard, much like I expected. They had a special bond and were incredibly close.
“H-H-How is G-G-Grandpa?” He sobbed out, trying to calm down enough to get his words out without stuttering, still holding onto me. Like I was his life preserver, in this turbulent ocean of emotions he was feeling, but I was holding onto him just as hard.
“He just got a tube in his nose to make sure they can feed him since he hasn’t woken up yet,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm even though I felt like I was being held together with Elmer's glue. He chuckled.
“He’s gonna hate that. He’s always said your cooking was the best.” That made me smile and laugh a little. I tried to keep the tears in, but it was no use. I was smiling and crying because I was happy that someone else was giving me their happy memories of my wonderful Jefferson. I loved hearing about him from others, but those were sad times, too, because I was so scared I might never hear Jefferson compliment my cooking again. I didn’t think I could bear that.
“He’s doing okay. He’s still got a long way to go, but he’s looking more like himself every day. I just want him to open those eyes so I can take him home.” He squeezed me hard as we looked at Jefferson laying in the bed, looking both too big and too small for it, at the same time.
“I know. He’s my only grandpa. I want him home too.” He pulled away, and I let him. We stood in the small room, made smaller by all the machines, just watching the rise and fall of his chest. The results of his scans should be back soon.
I hoped for good news. I needed something good to hang on to.
FOUR: The Earth-Shattering
Emily’s POV
Later that night, I was in the shower in his room, cleaning the day off of me. Since it was just him in this room, no one else was using the shower. It had been a long day. Ryder stayed for an hour or two, filling us in on his classes and his social life. He filled Jefferson in on everything that was going on at college. He told us about a paper he had to write, and he was nervous about asking his dad. He was thinking of possibly going from law school, like his uncle Kai and Grandpa, to computer science, and doing something like his dad. He also told us he was going to be prospecting for the club, so a big portion of his tuition was being paid for by the club. He wanted to be able to do something important for them since he and his mother had always been taken care of by the club.
Stepping out of the shower, I was drying myself off when I heard alarms going off. It wasn’t unusual in the ICU, but these sounded louder. Like, loud enough to be in the same room or right next door. I hurried to dress and open the bathroom door just in time to see Jefferson being wheeled away with someone doing CPR on his chest. I was stuck in the doorway of the bathroom and his room. I was stuck to the floor, like I was a fly, on fly paper. A frantic-looking nurse came in and saw me standing there like a deer in headlights. I saw her in my peripheral vision as I watched, where I had just seen him being wheeled out.
“Mrs. Patel?” When I didn’t answer, she tried again, gently touching my arm, “Mrs. Patel?” I finally found the strength to look at her. “We need you to come to the surgery waiting area. Has his D-POA paperwork been put on file?” Inodded, following along. She asked me more questions, and the one thing that stood out was the term ‘full code’.
“My husband said he wants everything done for him, but if there’s a greater than seventy-five percent chance, he’ll be a vegetable, he doesn’t want to be saved. He had it written in his paperwork.” I told her, not sure if anyone had looked into that part of the paperwork. Jefferson had linked up with a medical lawyer to get the terms and specifics, and so he knew what each term meant and what they would or wouldn’t do to help keep him alive. She nodded at me and took off through a set of double doors. I looked around, seeing no one else but me, and I moved to a chair and sat down. I saw his name come up on the screen with the list of all the patients and how long they’d been in there. It was just his last name, but I held onto that.
I don’t know how long I sat there for, when the phone at the desk under the screen started to ring. No one seemed to come to answer it, so I walked over and picked it up.
“Hello? This is the surgery waiting room.” I said, trying to keep it together so I could try to help whoever was on the other end of the line.
“Mom? It’s Raven. Your phone kept ringing, so I called the switchboard to connect me to Dad’s room. Why are you in the surgery waiting room?” I took a breath, feeling like I was going to fall apart if I answered my daughter’s question. “Mom, it’s Stormi. We’re coming up. What happened?”
“He…I…” I couldn’t get the words out. Sobs just wracked my body as I tried in vain to explain what happened to Jefferson. I couldn’t do much other than cry and get the occasional word out that sounded like it should.
“We’re on the way, Mom!” Raven shouted, sounding further from the phone.
“We’ll be there as soon as we can, Mom. My dad’s here to watch the kids.” I heard Stormi saying as I nodded. Even though they couldn’t see me. “Stay close to this phone since you don’t have yours with you. Okay?” I nodded again, sniffling. I knew, and I think they knew, I couldn’t talk.
“We love you, Mom!” they said together before hanging up. Twenty minutes later, it could have been more; I wasn’t sure how time was working anymore. My girls, Beckam, Prez, Atlas, and Parker, were in the waiting room with me. They surrounded me, taking me into a protective fold.
“Becca and Bullet came over to watch our kids so we could be here for you,” Parker said, knowing I wasn’t going to understand anything in the state I was in. He had become a good friend over the years that we had lived here. Not just mine, but Jefferson loved talking with him and Atlas, too. I would frequently see all three of them sitting on the porch watching all of the kids, just talking about all sorts of topics. “What happened?”
“I-I don’t know. I was in the bathroom in his room, taking a shower. When I was toweling off, I heard alarms, but that wasn’t unusual in the ICU.” He nodded, following along, “But they sounded louder, so I hurried. When I opened the door, there was someone on his chest doing CPR as they wheeled him out of the room. I was frozen in shock until I nurse came to get me and brought me here. I haven’t heard anything since.”
Parker nodded, looking at Atlas. I knew what that meant. He knew something. Or had an idea about what might have happened. Just as I was about to ask, the doors opened. I stood up and took a few steps toward the doctor. The look on his face.
I knew.
I’d seen it before.
