Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
I give the operator the address, tell her my mother fell, that she’s unconscious and bleeding. The rest is a blur, but she makes me stay on the line while I wait fifteen long minutes, holding my mother’s hand, afraid to move her—what if she has spinal cord damage? I remember a Grey’s Anatomy where I swear they said never to move someone if you’re not sure. After much too long, there’s a knock at the door, then two people sweep in, both men. They ask questions in calm voices, and somehow I manage to match the tone with my responses, when inside, I’m anything but calm.
“My mother fell,” I tell them, and I explain what little I know. That I got coffee, that I was packing, that I heard a thud . . . “God, what if I weren’t here?” My eyes, wide with emotion, meet the gaze of the taller paramedic.
He says something like, “We’ll take good care of her,” totally ignoring my question as he locks the stretcher on wheels into place waist-high. “We’re going to bring her to Memorial Hospital. Do you know the way?”
I shake my head. “I don’t remember. I haven’t lived here in a long time.”
“You can follow us.”
“Okay.”
I get in the car, not having a clue what is happening. But there’s one thing I know for sure. I can’t leave town now.
“The medication she’s taking can compromise her immune system. So when the infection set in, it really took hold.” The doctor glances down at Mom and uses her pointer finger to push her glasses up her nose. “But the antibiotics we’re giving her should work. We’ll add a prophylactic antifungal therapy, just in case. She’s weak, but we should be able to get her through this setback.”
It’s not lost on me that all of the staff have used should and not will—the medication should work, my mother should make it. I swallow. “Okay. Thank you.”
The doctor leaves the room, and it’s just Mom and me.
She’s beneath a sheet, the head of her bed elevated. There’s an IV taped to her hand, pumping clear liquids—four IV bags of them—into her body. The machines make a quiet chugging sound, keeping time with the monitor over her head.
Mom’s not just in the hospital. She’s in the ICU. A cold, creepy place, full of serious nurses who don’t seem to smile. And of course, they shouldn’t have to—they’re literally keeping people alive. Keeping my mom alive, even though she’s destined to die soon enough.
Six hours and twenty minutes later—I know, because I’ve been switching between staring at Mom and the clock on the wall—one of the serious nurses walks in. She presses her hand to my shoulder. “I don’t think anything is going to change over the next twenty-four hours. The medications need to do their job, and we’re giving her a sedative to keep her resting. Her vitals are stable. It’s fine if you want to go home and rest.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
The nurse leaves, and I stand and stare down at my mother. I’ve obviously known she was critically ill since I walked in and took my first look at her—her skin color and sunken face told me before she confirmed it. Yet somehow it’s not until this moment that it sinks in that it’s going to be soon, very soon. If not this hospital admission, then the next or the one after that, but there won’t be very much time between. I take my mother’s hand and squeeze it. “Bye, Mom. I’ll be back in a bit.”
I’m lost in my head as I make my way out of the ICU, take the elevator down to the lobby, and walk through the automatic revolving front door. As I step out, a person is stepping in, but I don’t even take note of them until I hear my name.
“Elizabeth?”
I look up and blink a few times. “Lucas?”
“I thought that was you.” He smiles, swamps me in a hug that catches me off guard. “How the heck are you? It’s been forever.”
He shakes his head when he pulls back. “Damn, you look great.”
I smile. “You do, too.” And he really does. Lucas was lanky in high school, but now he’s bulked up, grown into his looks, very manly looking. He used to fool around with Jocelyn, but I always had a little crush on him, too. He’s wearing black scrubs, like a few people I saw in the ICU. “Do you work here?”
He nods. “I’m a PA. Are you visiting someone?”
“My mom.”
He frowns. “I heard she was sick. You know how this town is—nothing’s private. I’m sorry. Everything okay?”
I force a smile. “It will be.”
“Good.” He shakes his head, eyes sweeping over my face. “You really look amazing.”
My belly warms. “Thank you.”
“You live in New York, right? I always ask your mom how you’re doing whenever I run into her. She brags about you being a professor.”