November #2
“Okay!” I don’t hesitate, pushing Jerry onto his back and holding back another sob.
Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!
“It’s okay, I’m here with you. Can you tell me your name?”
“Jesy. It’s Jesy. And my husband is Jerry.”
“Okay, Jesy. I’m going to give you some instructions and I need you to follow them. The ambulance is close by, but we need your help until it gets here. Can you do that Jesy?”
“Yes…” I nod, putting the phone on loudspeaker. “Tell me what to do.”
The call handler has me check Jerry’s mouth for vomit, asking me to clear it. I barely have time to process before my hands are on his chest, using my weight to keep his heart pumping.
My arms are aching, but I don’t stop. Even when tears stream down my face. Even when I hear the urgent knock at the door.
“We’re in here!” I shout, praying to a God I don’t believe in that they hear me.
“Ambulance,” a strong male voice calls out.
“Yes, we’re in here!”
I’m sweating like a pig. My arms feel numb. But I refuse to stop. Not until warm arms wrap around me and a reassuring voice in my ear tells me it’s okay.
I give in to my emotions then, the barriers breaking down as sob after sob wracks my body. I have enough sense to get out of their way, realising for the first time that my dressing gown has come undone and I’m flashing the multiple crew members.
I mumble an apology to no one in particular as Thomas bursts through the door, his panicked eyes taking in the scene.
“What did you fucking do?” he roars, making a beeline for me. “You stupid little girl, what did you do?!”
“I didn’t… It wasn’t…”
“Where are you taking him? Where are you taking my boy?!”
I barely hear the paramedics response. All I hear are scary words. Aspiration. Low sats. Hypoxia.
Whatever the fuck that is.
And then someone blocks my view, waving their hand in front of my face.
“Jesy? Jerry’s father has requested to ride with us. Are you okay with that, pet?”
“What?”
“The ambulance.”
“Oh. Oh… I need to get dressed. I need…”
“For fuck’s sake, lass. We don’t have time!” Thomas is glaring at me, and I am fucked if Jerry dies. He’ll find a way to get me sent down for murder. I just know it.
“Go,” I say, waving them off. “I’ll follow behind. Just go and get him where he needs to be.”
The paramedic nods and there’s a flurry of activity before a deafening silence. There’s only me left now. Me and the vomit staining my kitchen floor and the light from my phone that I never picked up again.
I reach for it automatically, shaking hands bringing up my contacts.
There’s only one person I want to talk to right now. Only one person who can give me the strength I need to get through whatever the fuck is coming for me next.
I dial his number and lift the phone to my ear.
He answers on the third ring and I sob in relief.
“Brian?”
13 Nov | From: Jesy Pattinson | To: Brian Trainer
Subject: Updates
Did you know that five days after giving someone CPR, your arms still ache? Or maybe I’m just grossly out of shape. I kept saying I was going to take up yoga again, but I never did.
Either way, there’s this constant dull achiness that’s becoming quite the annoyance.
I’m sorry I’ve been quiet the past few days. Every time you’ve called, I’ve been in sheer zombie mode and I’m not sure what I have, and haven’t told you, so forgive me if I repeat myself.
Jerry was admitted into the ICU and placed into an induced coma almost immediately on arrival. I’ll be honest, they threw a lot of big words I couldn’t make sense of at me, but what I did understand was two small but very scary words.
Alcohol poisoning.
My husband almost, quite literally, drank himself to death. Had I been a minute later… had I not been unnerved by the stillness of the room, he would be dead.
I don’t know how to process that, if I’m honest.
But I don’t have time to process it because, all being well, today is the day they wake him up.
As far as I know, and excuse my lack of medical know-how, the coma was to protect his airways and stabilise his breathing after he aspirated. Apparently putting him under reduces the oxygen demand and allows his brain time to recover because that’s another worry.
Brain damage.
However, they can’t really assess that while he’s under. His oxygen levels are stable, his lungs are coping and the alcohol is out of his system.
So, it’s time to wake up.
At least, that’s the gist of it, I think. Thomas would be able to tell you more. Thomas has been taking notes, and asking questions, and making contingency plans.
I’ve been sat on the sidelines, staring at the peaceful expression on Jerry’s face wondering how long I have to sit here before I can leave without feeling guilty about it.
And yes, I am aware I am a terrible wife.
I know you’ve been keeping Rachel updated, but let’s keep that particular tidbit between the two of us, yeah? I don’t need more people than necessary realising what a twat I am.
But if you want to know the truth, I don’t ever feel guilty about leaving.
I know I should. I know I should be keeping a constant vigil by his side, scanning his face for any micro-expressions, holding his hand and telling him I love him.
Instead, I’m clock-watching.
I’m angry at him, Brian. And I’m angry at Thomas. But most of all, I am angry at myself for being so fucking passive about this. For knowing it’s been happening and pretending it hasn’t for the sake of peace.
He did this to himself. He did this to us.
His life isn’t so bad, you know. I know losing his mother cut him deeply, but he came out of the other end.
Or at least I thought he did. And now I’m questioning everything.
Did I miss some warning signs before his mum died?
Was he already drinking? When we used to go out partying, was that when it started?
I just don’t understand how this thing got such a tight hold on him and landed him in that hospital bed. I don’t know why, when I am more than capable of using my gob in any other scenario, I become so meek and mousey at home.
I am a strong woman. Why the fuck didn’t I put my foot down?
I’m just so angry. And I’m exhausted.
And I so desperately want to put this behind us.
Because one good thing has come out of this.
I thought my marriage was hurtling towards the end. That I was done with Jerry, with Thomas and his whole damn family. But then the memory of him on that floor, cold and unresponsive cuts me like a knife and the agony I feel tells me the answer.
I love this stupid man. And I’m going to be better for him.
Anyway.
Give my love to Rachel. Thank her again for the flowers.
And thank you, Brian. You have been my rock.
I’ll speak soon.
Jesy x
14 Nov | From: Brian Trainer | To: Jesy Pattinson
Subject: RE: Updates
I know we’ve just hung up, but I realised I didn’t reply to all of your email. So, despite it being one in the morning, and the fact we’ve just spoken for… four hours and twenty-two minutes (according to my phone), I’m going to write a lengthy email instead of going to bed.
Actually, it might not be all that lengthy, what I want to say is very concise.
Simply: give yourself some grace.
That’s it.
I know why you’re angry at yourself. I wouldn’t be surprised to hear you were a little angry with me too. All I can say is that you are there when it counts.
Who knows what the cause of Jerry’s alcohol dependency was. Or even when it started. But it is his journey. You can support him, encourage him, and yes, be angry with him. But unless he wants to make that change, nothing you can do, no matter how perfect you are, will make him change.
Anyway, that’s all I really wanted to say.
Sweet dreams, Jes.
1 NEW SMS
Hey Jesy.
I know this is bad timing, but I have big news. Can I call you?
This isn’t a text type conversation! – Isla
23 Nov | From: Jesy Pattinson | To: Brian Trainer
Subject: Big news!
Well.
Big news for me, anyway. I don’t think it will impact you quite the same way.
Isla got engaged!
I mean, of course she got engaged. It was always a case of when, not if, with those two. But, wow, does it feel good to have something to celebrate.
It is a reminder, in days filled with hospitals and machines, and rules and uncertainty that the world keeps turning beyond these sterile walls.
I’m a bit giddy, actually, and it’s not even my engagement. So, tell me, what’s been going on with you? While I love being the main character in our friendship, you deserve the spotlight once or twice.
23 Nov | From: Brian Trainer | To: Jesy Pattinson
Subject: RE: Big news!
A big congratulations to Isla and her new fiancé. Give her my well wishes, won’t you?
Very gracious of you to let me steal your spotlight, but alas, I don’t think I need it. You are right, the world keeps turning, days keep coming, and for the majority of us, that means stability. Nothing changing.
Rachel and I are fine. She’s started leaving a toothbrush at my place, which means we’re practically married.
Work is fine. We make apps, people buy apps, we make money.
Though you’ve never met them and don’t need to know, my mum and dad are also fine, a fact which brings me great comfort.
It’s all fairly standard here.
But no less ‘world continuing’ than an engagement, I suppose.
23 Nov | From: Jesy Pattinson | To: Brian Trainer
Subject: RE: Big news!
Do you think you’ll move in with Rachel?
23 Nov | From: Brian Trainer | To: Jesy Pattinson
Subject: RE: Big news!
O… kay.
Who knows. Maybe one day. Isn’t that the point of dating someone. To figure out if those things could be possible?
23 Nov | From: Jesy Pattinson | To: Brian Trainer
Subject: RE: Big news!
And you haven’t figured that out yet?
23 Nov | From: Brian Trainer | To: Jesy Pattinson
Subject: RE: Big news!
Not yet. It’s been two months.
23 Nov | From: Jesy Pattinson | To: Brian Trainer
Subject: RE: Big news!
Sure. Just…
Don’t rush, okay?
23 Nov | From: Brian Trainer | To: Jesy Pattinson
Subject: RE: Big news!
Not fair, Jesy.
23 Nov | From: Jesy Pattinson | To: Brian Trainer
Subject: RE: Big news!
I know.
Don’t rush, okay?
23 Nov | From: Brian Trainer | To: Jesy Pattinson
Subject: RE: Big news!
Okay.
28 Nov | From: Brian Trainer | To: Jesy Pattinson
Subject: You’ve got this
By now I assume you’ve got Jerry all settled in at home. It’s been a long couple of weeks, but you did it!
I’m not expecting to hear from you much, so don’t stress yourself.
Just remember what we spoke about.
It’s going to be hard going, but the worst is already done. They’ve detoxed him. They’ve got him through withdrawal. And you can do everything in your power to keep him away from alcohol, but you can’t stop him if that’s what he wants.
I hope he doesn’t.
I hope this has given him the scare it should have done. But what he decides to do next is not a reflection on you, okay?
I’m here if you need to talk. I am here if you need to vent. Hell, if you want to scream into the abyss, call me and I will leave the room and let you scream (just to save my ears).
You are not alone.
Don’t forget to take care of yourself when you’re busy taking care of everything else.
You’ve got this, Jesy.