38. Critical Condition #3
The word hits harder than DKA.
Maybe because DKA was already obvious.
ICU makes it official.
I look at Cami.
Her eyes are closed.
Her fingers are still curled loosely around mine.
“Okay.”
The physician watches me for another second.
Finally acknowledges the uniform and the badge.
“You know what we’re watching.”
“Yeah.”
“You also know this is going to take some time.”
I almost laugh.
Not because it's funny.
Because some time might as well be another language right now.
“Yeah.”
He nods and moves away.
Ronan has been standing near the wall for most of this.
Quiet.
Small in a way Ronan almost never looks.
I glance at him. “You did good.”
His eyes come to mine. “I found her late.”
“No.” The word comes out hard enough that he stops. “You found her when I called you. She was sleeping. We all thought she was safe to sleep because her ketones were fine and her number was stable.”
His jaw tightens. “I muted the alerts.”
“Ronan, I think everyone did. She probably even changed hers so she could sleep without it going off every few minutes.”
He looks at me.
I force my voice down. “This is not your fault.”
His expression doesn't change much.
But I see the words land.
“I told all of you the highs were expected. Cami told all of you the highs were expected. We were right until we weren't.”
Ronan swallows.
Then nods.
Once.
“Where are Micah and Dex?”
“On the way.”
“How's Dex?”
Ronan's eyes close briefly. “Not good.”
Of course.
His phone buzzes, and he looks down at it.
“Never mind, they’re here.”
Dex looks like he might throw up.
That's my first thought when he and Micah appear outside the room.
Not because he's pale.
Although he is.
Because his entire body is wound so tight that he looks like he's holding himself together through muscle tension alone.
Micah has one hand at the back of his neck.
Firm.
Grounding.
Dex sees Cami through the doorway and just stops.
I go to him before he can decide whether he's allowed to come closer. “She is okay right now.”
His eyes hit mine.
“Okay as in okay, or okay as in medical people say okay when everything is actually fucked?”
Fair question.
“She's sick. She's in DKA. They're treating it. Her blood pressure responded to fluids. She's awake on and off. She's breathing on her own. Nobody is talking about intubation. Nobody is telling me she isn't responding.”
Dex's mouth presses tight.
He nods.
Once.
Then again.
Micah looks at me over his shoulder. “He had a panic attack in the car.”
Dex gives him an offended look. “I did not.”
“You couldn't feel your hands.”
“I was upset.”
“You told me you were dying.”
“I was being metaphorical.”
Under any other circumstances, I would laugh.
Instead I put a hand on Dex's shoulder.
He immediately grabs my wrist.
Not hard.
Just holds it there.
“She's going to ICU?”
“Yeah.”
His eyes close. “Fuck.”
“I know.”
The nurse appears in the doorway. “We're getting ready to move her upstairs.”
Every one of us turns.
I step back into the room.
Cami looks a little better.
Not good, but better.
The fluids have put some color back into her face. Her breathing is still too deep, but not quite as violent.
The insulin is running now.
A pump on the pole.
Another bag of fluids.
Numbers I understand.
Treatment I trust.
None of it makes me want to let go of her hand.
“We'll take her up and get her settled,” the nurse says.
“I'll come.”
She shakes her head gently. “You can't come during transfer. Let us get her up there and hand off. The unit will call down once she's settled and tell you what they're allowing for visitors.”
Of course.
I know this, and, more importantly, I know why.
Elevators.
Lines.
Pumps.
Handoff.
Too many bodies create problems.
Knowing why doesn't make it easier.
I look at Cami.
Her eyes open when I squeeze her hand. “They're taking you upstairs.”
She looks confused for a second. “ICU?”
“Yeah.”
Her forehead tightens. “That's dramatic.”
A laugh breaks out of me before I can stop it. “Apparently you like attention.”
Her mouth barely moves. “It’s Dex's fault.”
From the hallway, Dex makes a wounded noise.
Cami's eyes drift toward the sound.
Then back to me. “You coming?”
Fuck.
I bend close and kiss her forehead. “I can't go during the transfer.”
Fear flashes across her face.
I tighten my hand around hers. “But I'm right behind you. As soon as they let me upstairs, I'm there.”
She studies me.
Even half out of it, she knows when I'm telling her the truth.
“Okay.”
“I love you.”
“Love you.”
The transport team starts moving equipment.
I let go of her hand.
Again.
Harder this time.
The stretcher rolls into the hallway.
Ronan stands beside me.
Micah has one arm around Dex now.
Nobody says anything.
Cami disappears through the doors.
My brain wants something to do, it has nothing to do.
No bleeding to stop.
No airway to manage.
No call to make.
No instruction to give.
My wife is in the hands of people I trust to keep her alive.
And all I can do is stand in a hospital hallway with another man's blood still dried across my uniform and wait for somebody to tell me when I'm allowed to see her again.