Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
KATE BUSH, “THIS WOMAN’S WORK”
Gabby
As soon as Ben was admitted to the hospital, I called his parents. It was a little after two in the morning, and they were both on the line and panicked that I had no more information other than he’d been sick for a week with a sore throat and fever, and he suddenly couldn’t hear.
“Are they on their way?” Olivia asked after I hung up the phone in the waiting room.
“Yeah.” I ran my fingers through my hair with a long sigh. “This is my fault. I should have made him go to the doctor, but …”
“Stop blaming yourself. I checked on him every day. If anyone is to blame, it’s me.”
I appreciated her trying to make me feel less responsible, but Ben was my best friend. And if I hadn’t been so busy trying to avoid him, I would have known just how bad he’d gotten.
“Are you ready to tell me why you two have been avoiding each other?”
I sat in a chair and shook my head. How could I tell Olivia that I kissed the guy she liked?
It didn’t matter. All I cared about was Ben getting better.
“Why do you think he can’t hear?” she asked.
I had no clue. As a child, I had a lot of sore throats. Eventually, I had my tonsils removed. Ear and sinus infections. I’d had about everything, but never had I experienced hearing loss.
An hour later, a doctor came into the waiting room to talk to us.
“Are you family?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I’m his best friend, but I called his parents. They live in Missouri, and they’re going to get a flight here as soon as possible. But they’re a ways from an airport.”
He nodded. “We’re waiting to hear back from the lab. From his clinical exam, I believe it might be meningitis which can cause hearing loss and other symptoms that’s he’s experiencing. We’ve started him on antibiotics.”
“But he’ll get his hearing back. Right?” Olivia asked.
“We don’t know yet. In the meantime, he was distressed, so we gave him something to help him sleep. There’s really nothing to do. I suggest you get some rest and come back during visiting hours. You’re more than welcome to leave a number where you can be reached if anything changes.”
“I’m not leaving,” I said.
“Gabby—” Olivia squeezed my hand.
I kept my gaze focused on the doctor. “I’m not leaving.”
He returned a sad smile and nodded. “I understand. There are vending machines down the hallway and the cafeteria is on the main level.”
“Thank you,” Olivia said.
The doctor turned and disappeared behind the double doors.
“I’ll stay too.”
I shook my head. “You don’t have to. I just can’t leave, not until his parents get here.”
“I have an algebra exam at eight that I shouldn’t miss, so …”
“No. Don’t worry about me. You grab a cab and go back to campus.”
“What about you? Can you afford to miss your classes?”
“I can’t think about that.”
Olivia frowned as if my reply was a judgment on her needing to make it for her algebra exam.
“He’s my family. I’ve known him a long time.”
She studied me with indecision in her eyes before relinquishing a tiny nod. “Okay. But call me if anything changes.”
“I will.” I hugged her.
When she started to release me, I tightened my grip, trying to control my emotions before they broke free.
“He’s going to be okay,” she whispered.
I wanted to believe that. But if we were wrong, I would never forgive myself. When our parents drove Ben and me from Devil’s Head to Ann Arbor before the first day of school, their parting words were for us to take care of each other.
* * *
I woke with a tap on my arm.
A nurse with a blond pixie cut smiled. “Are you Gabby?”
I nodded, sitting up in the chair while stretching and rubbing my eyes.
“Ben asked for you.”
“He did?” I hopped up.
If he asked for me, it means he was well enough to make requests.
“Can he hear?” I asked, following her through the doors.
“Not very well. But I have a pad of paper and pen for you to communicate so you don’t have to yell.”
“But he’ll get his hearing back, right?” I jogged to catch up to her.
She was shorter than me, but her legs were quick. “I can’t say yet. Here. We recommend you wear a mask since he’s been on antibiotics for less than twenty-four hours.”
I stared at the mask a second before taking it from her. After looping it around my ears, I stepped into his room.
Ben’s face and lips were so pale. Eyes tired. And I was glad to have a mask covering most of my face to hide my true worry because I couldn’t bring myself to smile even though I tried when he glanced up at me.
I squeezed his hand and fought my tears. “Your parents are on their way.”
He didn’t react, not a single blink.
Stupid.
He couldn’t hear, and to add to the confusion, a mask covered my face, so he couldn't see my lips to know I was trying to say something. I took the pen and pad from the table next to him.
Your parents are on their way.
His gaze rested on the paper for several heavy blinks, then lifted to mine, and he nodded.
My brave face slipped, and tears filled my eyes, so I looked down at the paper again.
I should have taken you to the doctor. I’m sorry.
When he read it, lines formed along his forehead, and he rolled his head from side to side. “No,” he whispered.
I swallowed past the lump in my throat.
He stuck his fingers in his ears like they just needed to be cleaned out. “I can’t hear.”
They think you have meningitis.
Ben nodded.
I underlined my first line and added exclamation points.
I should have taken you to the doctor. I’m sorry!!!!!
He grabbed my hand and rested it on his chest as I lifted my other arm to wipe my tears on my sleeve before writing more.
How do you feel?
“Like shit. I may never hear again. Did they tell you that? This could be permanent.”
I wiped more tears and looked away.
“It’s not your fault.”
Tears burned my eyes.
He squeezed my hand and pointed at his eyes. “Not your fault,” he said. “You should get to class.”
I shook my head, and Ben frowned while mumbling, “I’m tired.”
I’ll go to the cafeteria and be back in less than ten minutes.
He gave me a slight headshake.
“Be right back,” I said, even though he couldn’t hear me.
I didn’t need anything from the cafeteria. I needed to call my parents. After accepting the collect call, Mom’s concerned voice made the lump in my throat swell.
“Gabby, is everything okay?”
I pressed a hand to my mouth to hold back my sob.
“Gabriella?”
I cleared my throat. “Ben is in the hospital. They think he has meningitis.” I swallowed another sob.
“Oh dear. Do his parents know?”
“They’re on their way.”
“We’ll pray for him. God will take care of him.”
“Mom”—my voice cracked—“he c-can’t h-hear.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean he can’t hear.” I choked.
“Oh, Gabby. I’m sure it will be fine. What have the doctors said?”
I sniffled. “They said they don’t know if his hearing loss is permanent.”
“Well, one step at a time. Okay?”
“What if he’s not fine?”
“Where is your faith?”
My faith had cracked and continued to chip away with each passing minute that Ben couldn’t hear.
“I’ll pray,” I whispered.
“Good. Let him know the whole church will pray for him. And if either one of you need anything, just call. Also, I want updates as soon as anything changes or the doctors give you more information.”
“I will.”
“Sweetheart, I love you. It’s going to be okay. I promise.” How could she be so certain?
“Bye.” I hung up the phone.
Everything was the opposite of okay, but I sat in the waiting room before going back to Ben’s room, and I prayed anyway, holding back nothing. I asked God to heal his body, let him hear again, and make his pain go away.
By the time I returned to Ben’s room, he was asleep. So I sat in the chair next to his bed and watched him breathe until my eyes succumbed to sleep, too.
An hour later, his doctor, along with a group of students, came into the room. One student presented his case. She listed the antibiotics he was getting along with steroids for his loss of hearing. A few of the other students took turns listing potential outcomes and other therapies. Then the doctor asked me if I had questions.
“He can barely keep his eyes open. Is that normal?”
“Yes. When the tissue around the brain swells, it can affect the alertness of the brain, which makes it difficult for him to stay awake for long periods.”
I nodded. “His parents are on their way. Will you come back and explain all of this to them when they get here? I’m afraid I’ll forget some of it.”
She smiled. “Of course. And if I’m not here, Dr. Stenson, a fourth-year resident, will update them and answer questions.”
“Thanks. Oh! How long will he be in the hospital?”
“It’s too early to say. A week, maybe two. It depends on how his body responds to the antibiotics and steroids and if there are any other complications. Sometimes full recovery from bacterial meningitis can take several months, but most of that time will hopefully not be in the hospital. One day at a time.”
I returned a slight smile and a tiny nod.
Months.
What would happen with his classes? His scholarship? And how would he understand the lectures if he couldn’t hear?
How will he be a conductor if he can’t hear?
I didn’t want to leave his side. I never knew my happiness was tied so tightly to his, but it was. If he couldn’t be a conductor, I didn’t want to be a psychologist. If he couldn’t listen to music, I never wanted to hear it again. Friends shared good times and bad. I wanted to trade places with him.