17. Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Seventeen
E mma
"The procedure will take around four to six hours," Dr. Han, the cardiothoracic surgeon explains as the sun sits high in the sky, outside the window. We're in the prep room, where Grandpa is sitting up on a stretcher, in a hospital gown as Dr. Han describes what's going to happen next.
"We're putting a coronary bypass graft in. Usually, it would only be a stent, but with the severity of his injuries, we would need a lot more support for the arteries. So, we'll take another blood vessel from your leg. And then we will attach it to your heart so that it can properly supply it with enough blood."
"You're cutting into my leg too?" My grandfather squeaks, paling.
Dr. Han smiles wanly. "It sounds a lot more gruesome than it actually is. You’ll be unconscious for most of it, and afterward, the recovery is very straightforward. You'll only feel fatigue and soreness sometimes, or what some people have described as a sharp, uncomfortable intermittent sensation. You'll need to stay off your feet for a few weeks, but otherwise, you should be mostly feeling good in about twelve weeks."
My grandfather presses his lips, but I can still sense the nerves in his eyes. I draw my sweater closer, feeling a sudden chill permeate my bones.
"What are the odds of me not making this out alive?" Grandpa asks suddenly, and fear spikes through my heart.
"Don’t think like that," I say, sharply.
"They’re cutting into me like a rotisserie chicken, Emma Jane. I can think however I damn well want."
Dr. Han holds up a reassuring hand. "It’s very safe. One of the most common heart surgeries actually, with manageable potential complications. We've perfected this surgery, and we have all the cutting-edge equipment here at the hospital."
"How many of these have you done?" Grandpa asks.
"In my lifetime? Probably a hundred."
"And how many of those patients died?"
Dr. Han shuts his mouth, not looking like he wants to answer that question. He throws me a look that seems to ask for help.
I reach out and take Grandpa's cool hand in mine.
"You’ll be fine," I assure him.
When Grandpa's gaze meets mine, it instantly grows firm and he puffs out his chest a little as he says, "Of course, I will be. A little surgery isn’t going to take out this old man."
"That's what we like to hear," Dr. Han says, grinning at Grandpa. In Grandpa’s short stay, it seems Dr. Han has become somewhat fond of him.
The good doctor only moved to town a few years ago, and apparently, Grandpa has been using his daily check-ins as an excuse to catch Dr. Han up on the lore of the Pink Pearl.
"So if everything is understood, let’s begin the process." Dr. Han claps his gloved hands and gestures to me. "Do you have other questions?"
"Yes," I respond. "You touched on it a little but what's the healing process going to be like?"
"Ah yes. He’ll likely have to stay in the hospital for several days to weeks depending on how the surgery goes. Like I said, most of it will be spent resting and staying off his feet. After about a week, he can probably go on short walks, but nothing too strenuous. And then he’ll begin PT sessions after a few weeks. He'll also have to be very careful with his diet from now on. That means watching his cholesterol and salt intake. I'll provide you a meal plan and refer you to a dietician who can help you."
"Oh, alright. Thank you."
Dr. Han nods and waits for any other questions, glancing at Grandpa. When none are forthcoming, he asks, "Are you ready?"
Grandpa and I share a look, and I then swallow. Neither of us are ready. We might never be.
I give him a brave smile that I hope hides my apprehension about this entire process. I’m trying to be strong for him, but the truth is that I’m terrified too. I almost wish Dr. Han hadn’t explained the process in such detail, even though I know he was only trying to help.
Because now all I can see is the scalpel cutting through the muscles of Grandpa's chest, his leg, and God knows where else. I see the blood flowing from him, and an endless river of red rivuleting onto the ground.
I imagine his eyes shut forever and I want to die.
I just got him back. It's easy to look at Grandpa now and forget about the terror I felt when he was unconscious.
He looks much better. He's not as pale or wan as before. It's easy to feel like things can return to how they were, without the surgery.
But then every once in a while, Grandpa will cough or rub his chest, and I'll be reminded that not everything is as it seems.
"I suppose we don’t have a choice," Grandpa says.
"We're ready." I rise and squeeze his hand for the last time, holding it as Dr. Han calls in some nurses to wheel Grandpa out through the doors and toward the operating room at the end of the hall. The whole time I hold Grandpa's gaze and try to transmit whatever telepathic reassurances I can.
He does the same to me.
And then when we finally reach the end of the line, the doorway of the surgery room.
"I’ll see you when you get out," I say, smiling at him.
He nods, and winks. "Stay curious, Emma Jane."
"You too, Grandpa." Stay alive, is what I want to say. Tears threaten at the back of my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. Dr. Han notices my face and gives me a sympathetic look.
"He's in good hands," he says.
"Please." The word chokes in my throat and I have to swallow. "He’s all I have left. Please, you have to make sure he makes it through."
The doctor nods, and I head to the sole chair outside the door and sit down. It’s the longest three hours of my life.
I try to stay occupied by being on my phone, but that doesn’t work for very long. And then I start pacing down the hall. At one point, Thelma brings me water, and I give her a friendly smile, but can't make much small talk.
I think she understands because she leaves soon after handing me the cup. The warm water is a boon for my parched throat, even though up until this point I didn't know I was thirsty. Then I pace some more.
The whole time my heart beats loudly, and goosebumps break out from the cold draft of the hallway.
I count the seconds and then the hours. It seems that with every hour that passes, the chill worsens until I barely feel it anymore. It's become a part of me now.
At the three-hour mark, I pull out my phone to see a series of missed calls and a text that I wasn't even aware of receiving.
Good luck. That was from Rick. I didn’t tell anyone else that the surgery was today. Though I loved our community, it was just too much to deal with that kind of exposure right now. I told Rick, just in case anyone was looking for me. I also told him to keep it a secret, but knowing how these things go, no doubt it will be all over town by tomorrow.
Grandpa has been receiving a steady supply of flowers since he was admitted, and the church is planning a group visit. It's a testament to just how loved he is in this town. So maybe it's selfish of me to keep this to myself.
But I do anyway.
After the fifth hour passes, I start to get nervous. Dr. Han said the surgery would take six hours max. It's been nearly six hours.
Something must have gone wrong.
The thought hits me like a freight train and I immediately feel like I’m hyperventilating, but I take deep breaths to keep myself calm. No codes have been called and no one seems like they’re in any rush. I would sense it if something was wrong.
I would sense it.
I wish I had a Pink Pearl with me right about now. When I was younger, Grandpa told me that Rainbow Pearls can grant wishes and that the Pink Pearl is the most powerful of them. But I wasted the one and only Rainbow Pearl I owned. So now, without such an object, I plead with every deity I can think of to grant this one wish. Please let him be okay. Please. He’s all I have left now.
Finally, the operating doors open, and I bolt to my feet. This time Dr. Han doesn’t startle at my vehemence as I approach him.
"The surgery went fine," he says before I can ask.
The words send such a flood of relief through me that my knees shake. I reach out to steady myself against the wall but miss by an inch and stumble into it.
"Easy." Dr. Han says. "Your grandfather is fine. He’s still unconscious and will be for a while. But he’ll be fine."
"Thank you," I say. The tears are flowing down my cheeks in earnest now. It feels so surreal, too good to be true. He's going to be okay.
"Yeah," he says. "I have to go, but they're moving him to the recovery room right now for observation. Later we'll probably take him to the ICU and you can see him then. You're welcome to stay but you can also go and come back."
"Alright," I say, relief still pulsing through me in waves. Though I'm tempted to stay, the second option is probably better. I haven't eaten anything, and Rick will probably want to know how the surgery went.
It's nearly evening when I stop by the shop to tell him. He’s behind the counter chuckling about something with Yule. When I walk up, Yule is saying "Never thought he would be that gullible."
"Never thought he would be that gullible?"
They both turn to me, and Rick says, "Hey kiddo. I thought you were going to be at the hospital all day."
"Yeah. But I wanted to stop by and let you know Grandpa's surgery went well. He'll be okay."
"That’s wonderful." Rick grins and ruffles my hair.
"Wait, your grandpa had surgery today?" Yule looks a little hurt. "You never said anything."
"I didn't tell anyone except Rick," I say apologetically. "I didn't want it to be a huge thing."
Understanding enters Yule's brown eyes, and he nods.
"So who's gullible?" I ask.
Rick seems reluctant to answer, but Yule leans into the counter and says, "Remember the five-burger guy?"
"Yeah." My heart skips a beat like it does whenever I think about Declan. "Declan, what about him?"
"He came over here looking for you. Apparently, he wanted your help getting a gift for his daughter. Rick told him he could find Rainbow Pearls at the Ashton woods, and the idiot actually believed him."
"What?" Alarm bursts through me as I stare at Rick in disbelief. "You told him to go to Ashton Woods? At this time of the year?"
The Ashton Woods was once one of the more popular hiking trails in town, until a landslide rendered it too steep to hike comfortably. Not to mention the lack of cell service and the confusing terrain. Only seasoned townies go to the Ashton Woods, and never alone.
"It's dangerous Rick. And he's not from here. Plus, it's storm season. What if it rains?"
Rick shrugs unapologetically. "He's a grown man, he can handle himself. Besides, I told him hours ago. He’s probably already given up by now and gone home."
"You don’t know that." Something tells me that Declan wouldn't give up that easily. If he truly went to Ashton Woods to find a Rainbow Pearl for Amelia, he wouldn't stop until he found it.
"I have to go," I say and leave, ignoring Rick’s call at my back. I’m furious at him. I know Declan isn’t the most well-liked man in town right now, but that doesn't warrant a prank like this.
I call Declan as I head to Lou's. The phone rings, but there's no answer. "Damn it."
I swing the doors open, and announce, "Lou. I need to borrow your car again. It's an emergency."
She looks up from her magazine shifting in her seat behind the counter. "You seem to be having a lot of those lately."
"I know. I promise I’ll fill it up when I’m done."
She snorts which I take as assent.
"Thanks," I say, grabbing the keys from the hook and dashing out to the car.
I repeatedly call Declan the whole way, there but there's no answer. Worry clouds my mind as I arrive at the base of the hill.
Making the ascent with Lou's car is rocky, literally. The driving path is slender and rough, and I feel every bit of it under the tires. I go slowly, navigating through the jagged terrain, and making sure to stick to the low-lying parts of the land.
The first hitch arrives about ten minutes later when my car gets stuck in a ditch.
"Oh no," I mutter as I pump the gas to force it out, but each time the car only jerks forward a little and then bounces back into its position. I could probably get it out of the ditch by gassing up even more, but I don't want to burn out Lou's delicate engine. She'll murder me.
Which means I have to make the rest of the journey on foot.
I sigh and get out of the car, the soft ground immediately adhering to my feet. Friction makes it an effortful walk because I have to continuously pull my legs out of the marshy ground. My thighs begin hurting after five minutes of hiking up the hill, and that's when I see it.
Declan's truck.
With no Declan in sight.