55
GAbrIELA DUARTE
At the end of that week, we returned to S?o Paulo. The team had received the report from Camila’s assessment in Paraty and kept to the schedule. On the morning of her admission, she walked into the hospital with her rabbit pressed to her chest.
At check-in, the nurse checked the ID bands, allergies, and when Camila had last eaten. I signed the paperwork. Luca opened his medication notes and answered questions while I checked the bag. Isabel and the anesthesiologist spoke with us before the preparations began.
“Nobody touches my paints,” Camila warned her brothers.
“I’ll keep them safe,” Cris said, adjusting the backpack.
She pointed to the insulated bag Luca was carrying.
“Did you bring Mommy’s bread?”
“I did,” he said.
“And mine, for afterward?”
I tucked her hair behind her ear.
“The nurse will tell us what you can eat afterward. Your rabbit will wait with us.”
Camila straightened one of the rabbit’s ears and hugged him to her chest.
I kept smiling because she was watching me. I knew the plan and had repeated the instructions back to make sure I understood. Even so, when they called her name, I had to take a breath before standing.
Luca carried the coat she’d refused to wear. In the prep area, Camila changed, and the nurse checked her ID band again. Before we headed for the catheterization lab, our daughter took my hand and Luca’s.
“Both of you.”
Noah, waiting with Heitor, lowered his eyes. I crouched in front of him.
“Did you want to come too?”
“I want to say goodbye again.”
Camila let go of my hand to hug him. Heitor joined them and nearly knocked the rabbit to the floor.
Then she came back to us.
Cris took the boys to the waiting room. The nurse walked with us down the hallway to the place where we would have to say goodbye. Camila looked at the stars painted on the ceiling.
“Start counting.”
“One,” Luca said.
“Slowly.”
“One… two… three…”
We reached the door at star twenty-seven. I kissed my daughter’s forehead. Luca knelt in front of her.
“I’ll be right here waiting for you.”
“Will you come when I wake up?”
“As soon as they let us in.”
“See you later, Daddy,” Camila said, hugging him.
Luca pressed his lips together and kissed her hair. The nurse waited for Camila to let go of his hand before taking her in. I watched until the doors closed. The first sob escaped before I could stop it. Luca opened his arms but didn’t touch me.
“May I?”
I fell against him.
Luca held me while I cried. The hand he laid on my back was shaking. I pressed my face closer to his shirt, trying to breathe.
“I’m here,” he said.
I still remembered every closed door. In that moment, I needed him beside me too.
When I could pull away, we went to the waiting room. The boys were drawing with Cris. I sat between them; Luca pulled up a chair. The first hour passed. During the second, we realized it was almost the time they’d given us, and there was still no news. Luca checked his watch again.
“Make a star here,” Noah asked, pushing a sheet toward him.
Heitor had drawn Camila in a yellow cape. Noah wanted to fill the sky with stars but couldn’t get the points right. Luca picked up a pencil. Beside me, Cris opened the food bag.
“Eat something,” he said, handing me the bread.
A staff member came to check our names. I asked when we could expect news.
She said she’d ask the team for an update. Luca put the pencil on the table and waited with me.
A doctor came to us shortly afterward. The team needed more time to treat the narrowed section, but Camila was stable. I asked how much longer; she didn’t want to give us an exact time. When he heard her, Heitor began to cry.
“Is she going to die?”
“They’re taking care of her,” I answered, pulling him close. “The doctor just told us she’s stable.”
Noah looked at Luca.
“Are you scared too?”
The question cut through me. Luca crouched in front of them both.
“I’m worried. But we’re going to wait together. Come sit here.”
“What if it goes wrong?” Noah persisted.
Luca looked at me before answering.
“I’ll listen to what the team says and explain it to you. You won’t be left wondering.”
Noah held out his hand. Luca took it.
“You won’t leave?”
“No.”
Almost an hour later, Isabel appeared. I stood before she reached us. My vision darkened for a moment. I took Luca’s hand and waited for her to speak.
She explained that she’d been able to widen the narrowed section of the pulmonary artery with the balloon.
There had been bleeding at the catheter entry site in the groin, which was now under control.
Because of that complication and Camila’s history, the team would monitor her in intensive care overnight.
“The treatment has improved blood flow. Now we’ll watch her recovery and check the follow-up tests.”
My legs nearly gave way.
“When can we see her?”
“As soon as the team has settled her in the ICU. They’ll come and get you here.”
I asked her to explain the bleeding again and what they’d be watching for overnight. Isabel answered before returning to the team. I wrote down the instructions. When I put the pen away, I realized Heitor had stopped crying.
I hugged the boys, then Cris. Luca was still beside the chair, gripping the sheet he and Noah had drawn on.
“They were able to treat it,” I said, touching his arm.
“I heard.”
He looked at me and slowly let out his breath. Noah came over, holding his backpack.
“Can I sit with you, Dad?”
Luca pulled out the chair and took him onto his lap. For a moment, he held his face close to Noah’s hair. Noah settled the backpack between his knees as if he hadn’t noticed the word. Heitor rested his head on the arm of the chair.
We stayed there until they called us. The team allowed two adults in at that point. Cris stayed with the boys, and Luca came with me. The nurse explained what we needed to know before taking us to the bed.
Camila looked even smaller beneath the wires. Luca went pale at the sight of her, and I remembered the photographs Cris had kept.
“She was smaller when she was born,” I told him.
“I saw the pictures.”
“I’m glad you saw them,” I murmured. “When I can bear to look at them, I see how much she’s grown.”
“We’ll show them to her later.”
Camila was drowsy. We waited beside the bed until she stirred and opened her eyes for a few moments.
“Rabbit.”
I held up the stuffed animal.
“He’s here, sweetheart.”
Luca took her hand.
“I stayed,” he said softly.
She looked at him, still struggling to keep her eyes open.
“Noah?”
“With Uncle Cris and Heitor,” I answered.
“Want to see him.”
I brushed a strand of hair from her forehead.
“When you’re a little more awake, we’ll call.”
Camila closed her eyes, still holding Luca’s hand.
That night, we took turns according to the schedule agreed on with the unit’s staff. When I came back to stay with Camila, Luca was waiting outside with a blanket. He asked how we would take turns resting.
We agreed I’d stay for that stretch and call him if anything changed. He looked at the door without moving.
“You need some sleep,” I whispered.
“I don’t want to miss her waking up.”
“I’ll let you know when she’s awake for longer.”
Luca passed a hand over his eyes.
“I keep thinking I’ll leave and something will happen.”
“I’m scared too. That’s why we’re taking turns.”
He nodded but needed another moment before he could step away from the door.
“I’ll be here,” I added.
I touched his face. Luca covered my hand with his before letting me go back into the unit.
In the morning, we met during visiting hours. Camila had stayed stable and was more alert. Her eyes sought Luca when he came close.
Then she asked for her brothers. The team agreed to a short call. Cris appeared on-screen with Noah and Heitor; Luca held the phone so she wouldn’t have to raise her arm.
Late that afternoon, after another assessment and the transfer to her room, the team cleared her to try getting into the chair for the first time. The nurse helped Camila stand. I stayed on her other side; Luca brought the rabbit.
He stepped forward when she moved more quickly.
She made a face.
“I can do it.”
“I’m right here,” he replied, making room for the nurse.
Camila looked to me to settle it.
“Just as far as the chair today.”
She took four more steps and asked for the chair. Luca brought it closer without saying he’d expected her to get tired. Then he gave her the rabbit and covered her feet.
“The rabbit too,” Camila said, pointing to the blanket.
Luca covered the stuffed animal’s paws. She checked, then closed her eyes.
Later, Cris sent the boys’ drawing: Camila in a yellow cape, surrounded by stars. I showed it to her before she fell asleep.
I put the phone away. Luca pulled his chair to the other side of the bed, and Camila asked us to switch off the main light. She still wanted to see us both before she went to sleep.