Chapter 25 Mom
Mom
Istand in the shower and cold water pours over my head.
The alien still turns and kicks inside me.
It was a terrible night. My tears mix with the running water, and I can’t bring myself to get out despite feeling freezing cold.
Why? Why did I end up in a ditch with my accident, and Mom ends up in the hospital? It should be me!
Carole bangs on the bathroom door. “Simon, we need to leave for the hospital. What are you doing in there? Please, get a move on.”
I turn off the water and slap my stomach a few times, trying to beat the alien into submission.
As I dry off, it hits me how a perfect day can turn to shit in the blink of an eye.
We were having such a nice time. Mags and Neel accepted PJ right into the fold.
No weirdness, no jealousy, all joy. The phone call came as such a shock.
I never got to go see Mom yesterday because by the time I drove back home, the hospital visiting hours were over.
I’m twisted with guilt about not checking my phone when I was having such a good time.
I’m so worried about Mom. The doctor indicated her coma is likely temporary, and she could wake up anytime, but they don’t know.
Carole is hopeful we may get more answers today.
I’m dressed, but my hair is still wet when I leave my bedroom to find Carole in the kitchen. She has a banana, a bottle of water, and a toasted Trader Joe’s English muffin spread with peanut butter wrapped in a paper towel, ready to hand to me.
“Let’s go; you can eat this in the car,” she says curtly.
We drive to Shady Grove Hospital in silence.
I eat the English muffin but save the banana for later, shoving it into my backpack between my homework and the book I’m reading.
I bite at what is left of my nails. Carole cries silently.
I’m utterly helpless, scared, and sad. I wish PJ were here to hold my hand.
We arrive at Mom’s ICU room, and it’s a terrible shock to see her.
She is hooked up to a ventilator and all manner of IVs and feeding tubes.
There are blue and purple bruises covering her face and arms. Carole pulls me into a hug, and we cry on each other’s shoulders.
We linger in the hug until Carole walks over to Mom and kisses her forehead.
She pulls up a chair to the bed and takes Mom’s hand in hers.
She closes her eyes and when she opens them, she is fired up.
“You know,” she says, “if this turns out to be because that damn lab worked her to a breaking point, I don’t know what I’m going to do. Yes, I do know what I’ll do! I’ll sue them. That’s what I’ll do. I’ll sue their asses.”
“Um, Carole, I don’t think it works that way. But…yeah, maybe. Hey, have you called Aunt Sarah yet?” I ask.
“No, I’ve been putting that phone call off,” she says bitterly.
“But since there appears to be no change this morning, I suppose I should call Sarah and that stoner husband of hers. You know, it’s times like these I’m glad that Lindsey’s parents have passed on.
What a terrible phone call that would be to make.
I suppose I should call my parents, though.
Hopefully, they won’t get on a plane and fly across the country from Portland.
Oh, and I did call Daniel—I mean, your dad—yesterday, and I spoke with him again early this morning. ”
I am about to ask Carole how Dad reacted when a nurse pops her head in the door to tell us the doctor will be coming by shortly to speak with us.
“Finally,” Carole says. “Hopefully, we can get some answers about what happened and when they expect her to wake up. Simon, I’m going to step out and call Sarah and my parents. Come sit here and talk to your mom while I’m gone.”
I do as Carole asks and sit in the chair next to Mom’s bed. Carole leaves the room, and it’s just Mom and me and the ventilator. I have a hard time trying to talk out loud to her. When I open my mouth, my voice cracks, so I sit quietly with her and wait for Carole to come back.
The hours drag by and still no doctor. I’ve been to the cafeteria twice and the bathroom three times.
I ate my banana, finished my homework, and texted with PJ, Mags, Neel, Paul, Latica, and Hector.
I even talked with PJ on the phone once and read a few chapters in my book while Carole slept in the chair next to Mom’s bed.
The light is quickly fading, and I watch the streetlamps outside turn on.
Where is the doctor? I’m about to ask Carole about dinner when Aunt Sarah comes flying in the door shouting my mom’s name.
“Lindsey! Oh my God, my baby sister. How could this happen?”
Sarah is beside herself as she pushes into the small hospital room. She doesn’t appear to notice as she knocks over a cup of water and brushes papers from the bedside table. After a few moments, she looks up and acknowledges Carole and me.
“Carole, I came as soon as I could get out of work. How is she? Is she going to be okay? When will she wake up? Are they taking good care of her?”
Carole ignores Sarah’s questions and steps away from the chair next to the bed. “Here, Sarah, take my seat. I’ve been sitting way too long.”
Sarah sits and takes Mom’s arm and starts rubbing it. Carole walks over to the window and looks out at the parking lot for a while before she turns to me.
“Simon, why don’t you go to the cafeteria and get your aunt a cup of coffee, and I will fill her in on what we know so far. There are only supposed to be two visitors in the room at a time anyway. Thanks, Little Bug.”
“Okay,” I say and jump off the windowsill. I’m happy to escape the confines of the increasingly claustrophobic hospital room. Unfortunately, my happiness is squashed as I run into my uncle Brian drinking a Coke outside Mom’s hospital room.
“Hey, kid,” he leers.
“Oh, hi. I’m…um…on my way to get Aunt Sarah a cup of coffee.”
“Shouldn’t you ask me if I want something too?”
“Oh! Do you want something?”
“Nope. Don’t look so scared, kid. I’m messing with you. Can’t you see I already have a drink?”
Brian shakes the Coke can at me. He smells like pot, and a wave of nausea rolls over me. The alien awakens and wants out. Scratch, scratch, scratch.
“What’s the matter, kid? Why so jittery? I know you’re worried about your mom but don’t be. She’s a tough broad. She’ll pull through and will be just fine. Good as new. Here, have a sip of Coke.”
He pushes the can toward me, and I smell right away that it’s not just Coke. I cough, overwhelmed by the smells of pot and liquor combined with the alien attack.
Brian laughs. “Kid, you need to toughen up. You’re never gonna make it in this big bad world being so sensitive. It’s gonna eat you alive, mark my words. Here, take a drink. It will put some much-needed hair on your chest.”
He dangles the can in front of me again, and I shake my head.
“Fine, suit yourself,” he says. “But listen to me, kid, and toughen up or you’re never gonna make it out alive, and that’s a promise.”
With that he puts on a big smile and walks into Mom’s hospital room.
I hear him spout his usual bullshit to Carole, so I turn and run down the hall into the bathroom.
The alien wants out. I try slapping myself in the stomach again to make it stop, but it won’t go away.
I’m doubled over holding my stomach when the door to the restroom opens.
“Bloody hell?” says a man with a British accent.
I look up, eyes wet with tears. My dad comes over and takes me in his arms.
“Simon, it’s all right. Your mum will be right as rain. I can feel it in my bones. You’ll see.”
I can’t remember the last time, if ever, my father gave me a hug. Surprisingly, it’s not weird, just comforting. He holds me and lets me cry for a while. My labored breathing eventually subsides, and the alien goes dormant. When I stop shaking, he lets go of me and holds me at arm’s length.
“Better now?”
I nod and wipe away my tears.
“I thought you were sick at first when I saw you, doubled over like that,” he says.
“I’m fine, Dad, but where did you come from?”
“Oh, I’ve been sitting in the lounge for quite some time, but I didn’t want to be a bother. I peeked in the room earlier, but Carole was sleeping, and you were reading. All three of you looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to disturb you.”
I look at my dad and, for the first time, I’m a little sad for him. He is alone, and although he is technically part of this family, he saw himself as an outsider and didn’t want to intrude.
“So, I talked to the nurse, and she said you are waiting to hear from the doctor. I wanted to stick around to see what the doctor says. But when I saw you run down the hall into the bathroom, I sensed something was wrong.”
“I’m glad you’re here, Dad. Carole is too, even though she may not say so.”
“Yes, she has been keeping me in the loop. She gave me a fright yesterday. She told me I didn’t need to be here, but of course I had to. You know, I still love your mother.”
I smile and say, “I was on my way to the cafeteria to get Aunt Sarah a cup of coffee. Want to join me?”
“Sure, I could do with a cuppa. Strong black tea might be nice. Hey, did you smell Brian? He reeks of booze and weed. I can’t believe they let him in the hospital.”
“Well, Dad,” I sigh, “some things have changed, but most things stay the same.”
“Too true,” he says.
He puts his arm around me, and we walk to the cafeteria.
We arrive back at Mom’s hospital room with the coffee, and I hand the cup to Aunt Sarah, and in return she gives me a half smile.
Carole surprisingly greets Dad warmly with a kiss on the cheek; another first as far as I can remember.
Dad shakes hands with Brian and gives Aunt Sarah a hug.
Someone has cleaned up the spilled glass of water and picked up the papers that were scattered on the floor.
“It’s getting awfully crowded, so I’m gonna go step outside for some…fresh air,” Brian calls as he exits the room.
“Well, we all know what that’s code for,” Carole says, and Aunt Sarah shoots her daggers.
Carole crosses her arms and turns to Dad. “Daniel, you didn’t need to take off work too. That was awfully sweet of you. Thank you, I’m glad you came.”
An older man with salt and pepper hair, dressed in a white shirt and striped tie, comes into the room, and closes the door. He speaks in a monotone voice, and his words are neither warm nor cold, just flat.
“Hello, I’m Dr. Glassman. I’m Lindsey’s doctor.
Technically, there are only supposed to be two visitors at a time, but I’m glad everyone is here.
I took care of Lindsey when she came in yesterday, and I’ve been following her progress.
I won’t beat around the bush with a bunch of small talk.
No one likes that, and frankly, it’s not helpful.
I’m sorry to say I still don’t have much more news to share than what you already know.
We can assume that Lindsey fell asleep at the wheel driving home yesterday afternoon.
This resulted in her drifting out of her lane and into oncoming traffic.
It was lucky the other cars were able to swerve out of the way and no one else was hurt, but as you know, she did go over the embankment and crashed into a large, unforgiving tree.
Most of this we know from the police report and witnesses on the scene.
But medically speaking, and as I’ve said already, we can deduce she fell asleep at the wheel.
We have drained off some of the fluid from the swelling around her brain, and in many of these instances, the coma is temporary.
This is good news. In most cases, it rarely lasts more than two to four weeks. ”
Aunt Sarah gasps and puts her hand up to her mouth. “Four weeks!”
“Possibly,” the doctor says. “She could very well wake up at any time. But the prognosis is varied and depends on the severity of the brain injury which we don’t know a whole lot about just yet.
There is still quite a bit of swelling in Lindsey’s brain, but hopefully that will diminish over time.
We have given her steroids to help with that.
What I can tell you is that for those who recover, and many patients do, recovery is gradual.
All you can do now is be patient and have faith. ”
Aunt Sarah bursts into tears, and I space out, unsure of what all this means. Dad manages to get a few words out.
“Well, doctor. Thank you for your time. We will take this as good news and look at the bright side.”
“Is there anything we can do?” Carole asks, clearing her throat.
“No, not really. You know what to do already. Visit, be patient, and talk to her. Maybe she can hear you? It certainly can’t hurt, and it might even help make the difference in Lindsey’s recovery.”
Carole stands up, wipes away her tears, and shakes Dr. Glassman’s hand. “Thank you, doctor. Yes, this is something we can all do, and we will.”
Dr. Glassman leaves the room, and Brian stumbles back through the door.
“Hey, is she awake yet?”