Chapter 20 – Beth
Shane falls asleep early in the evening, exhausted from reassuring his family he’s all right. The truth is, he’s out of the woods yes, but he’s far from being back to normal. He’s so physically weak. He can’t even take care of himself yet, and it might be a while before he can.
When Dr. Markowski was in here earlier to see him, she mentioned Shane going to a rehabilitation center to regain his strength and get physical therapy. I just want him to come home, but of course whatever the doctor thinks he needs is what we’ll do.
For the rest of the evening, I sit in my recliner and watch him sleeping, checking his heart rate and blood pressure on the monitors.
Nurses come in periodically to check his temperature and oxygen levels, and fortunately, everything continues to look good.
I need him to get well so he can come home.
I won’t rest until he’s safe in our bed.
Cooper’s phone rings, and he picks up the call. “Hey, babe. How’s everything at home?”
It’s Sam.
They chat for a while, Cooper keeping his voice low. “I miss you, too,” he says. There’s a pause while he listens. “Yeah, me too.” Another pause. “I’m sorry, babe. I promise I’ll make it up to you when I get home.”
Cooper rises from the sofa and brings me his phone. “Sam wants to talk to you.”
I take the phone from Cooper and hold it to my ear. “Hi, Sam.”
“Is it okay if I bring Luke to the hospital in the morning to see Shane? He keeps asking for his daddy, and since Shane’s awake now, I thought it might be a good time, assuming you think Shane’s up to it.”
“I think that’s a great idea,” I say. “I’m sure Shane would love to see Luke.”
That night, as I lie in my makeshift bed getting sleepier by the minute, I think about the dream I had the night before… about the little boy with brown hair and bright blue eyes whom Shane called Wyatt.
* * *
The next morning, after I’m showered and dressed, a nurse comes to change Shane’s bandages and check his temperature. Cooper and I step out of the room while she checks his catheter and empties the bag. She also bathes him and washes his hair.
When we return to the room, she’s helping him elevate the head of his bed so he can sit partially up.
“We’re going to start you on a liquid diet this morning,” the nurse tells Shane. “Clear juice and some broth for breakfast. We’ll see how you do with that, and if your body handles it well, then we’ll slowly work you up to a solid diet.”
As the nurse is leaving, Sam and Luke walk into the room.
“Daddy!” Luke cries as he races toward Shane.
Sam catches Luke before he careens into the bed. “Remember what I told you about being gentle with your daddy? He was hurt.”
“Oh, right.” Luke nods, looking so serious. “Sorry. I forgot.” Luke walks over to me and climbs into my lap. “Hi, Mama.” He kisses my cheek. “I miss you.”
“I miss you, too, sweetie.”
Luke glances over at Shane. “Hi, Daddy.”
“Hey, Luke.” Shane holds out his right hand to his son.
Luke hops down from my lap to approach the bed. He glances back at me. “Is it okay if I hold Daddy’s hand?”
Shane chuckles. “It’s fine, buddy. I’m not going to break.”
“Are you sure?”
Shane nods. “I’m sure.”
Sam sits Luke up on the side of the bed so he can grip Shane’s hand.
“How did you get hurt, Daddy?” Luke asks.
Shane glances at me for help.
“Daddy fell down,” I say. “But he’s feeling better now. You don’t need to worry.”
Luke strokes the back of Shane’s hand. “Are you coming home soon? I miss you. Sissy misses you, too.”
Shane reaches out to cup Luke’s face. “I’ll come home as soon as I can. I promise.”
A hospital staff member carries a tray into the room and sets it on the bedside table. “Somebody ordered a cup of broth?” she asks with a smile.
“Yes, thank you,” I say when Shane doesn’t reply.
After the young woman leaves the room, I pick up the cup and the straw wrapped in cellophane. I unwrap the straw and slip it into the cup. “Do you feel up to having some breakfast?”
Shane frowns. “Is that all I get?”
I laugh. “I’m afraid so. Baby steps, honey. If you can keep this down, maybe you’ll get to have some oatmeal tomorrow.”
When Shane scowls, Luke says, “Oatmeal is good, Daddy. You’ll like it. Cooper puts blueberries in mine.”
I take a sip of the lukewarm broth. “It’s actually pretty good. Here, have a taste.” I hold the cup for Shane, and he takes a sip.
“Can I help?” Luke asks eagerly, turning his bright eyes to me.
“Sure,” I say. “Daddy would love to have your help.”
With a little assistance, Luke cradles the mug in both of his hands and holds it out to Shane. “Here you go, Daddy. Take a drink.”
Shane dutifully takes a sip of his broth. “You’re right,” he says to me. “It’s not bad.”
“Drink some more,” Luke says. “It will make you strong so you can come home.”
Shane reaches out to ruffle Luke’s hair. “Thank you, buddy.” And then he sucks down the rest of the broth, probably just to get it over with.
After Luke peers into the empty mug, he smiles at Shane. “Good job, Daddy!”
Half an hour later, Luke says a tear-filled goodbye to Shane when Sam tells him it’s time to go home. Luke kisses Shane’s cheek before he leaves. “Bye, Daddy.” He tries so hard not to cry. “Please come home soon. We miss you.”
There’s not a dry eye in the room when Sam and Luke walk out the door.
The rest of the day is a whirlwind of activity. Shane is moved out of the ICU and into a regular patient room. He’s officially out of danger and slowly on the mend.
Later that morning, a physical therapist comes to the new room to begin Shane’s physical conditioning. The therapist, a young Hispanic man named Oscar, actually gets Shane up on his feet to stand for a few minutes before suggesting he try to take a few steps.
With Oscar supporting him, Shane takes about five steps away from the bed before he’s grimacing in pain.
“That’s a good start,” Oscar says. “Now let’s see if you can walk back to bed.”
* * *
Shane manages to keep the broth down. For lunch, he gets a bowl of chicken noodle soup, with hardly any chicken or noodles in it, and a cup of strawberry gelatin. They do let him have a cup of decaf coffee, though, which he considers a good consolation.
For dinner, he’s given more broth, mashed potatoes, peas, and applesauce.
Shane frowns. “They’re feeding me like I’m five years old. I’d kill for a steak right now.” He pushes green peas around on his plate. “Or a burger cooked on the grill.”
I lean in to kiss his forehead. “Be patient, my love. You’ve still got a way to go before you’re back to normal.”
“Speaking of getting back to normal, Dr. Markowski recommended I go to a rehab center to regain my strength, but I don’t want to. I want to go home, Beth. I want—I need—to be with my family. I can have therapy at home. Are you okay with that?”
“Yes, of course.” I smile just thinking about it. “There’s absolutely nothing I want more than for you to come home.”
When I pull away, he catches my hand. “Hey, I just remembered something else. Have you started your period?” When I shake my head, he frowns. “Have you tested?”
I nod, trying not to smile. I suppose it’s safe to tell him now that he’s well on his way to recovery.
“And?” he asks as he squeezes my hand, suddenly impatient. “Come on, sweetheart. Don’t keep me hanging!”