42 - Samantha
What is going on? Ifeel weighted down, but I don’t think I could struggle if I tried. Why won’t my eyes open? I’m trying so hard, but they just won’t open! I try to wrap my brain around why my eyes are being defiant. What is happening? Where am I? Tiny stings of burning sensations assault my nose. I’ve smelled this before. Alcohol, maybe?
“How long?” a familiar voice speaks. Something or someone touches my limp hand. It’s nonresponsive just like my eyes. Everything is silent. Everything is wrong. I want the voice to keep talking, it soothes me. “Why is she making that face?” my familiar voice speaks again. I don’t want to open my eyes anymore. Maybe I’m dreaming. I like dreams. What’s that faint beeping sound? “She looks stressed, is she in pain?”
“She may be a little uncomfortable, but she shouldn’t be in pain. I need to see how she’s doing when she wakes.” I don’t know this voice. It’s foreign to me, yet gentle. But it isn’t the voice I want to hear. “It shouldn’t be much longer. Let me know if she gets more agitated. Keep talking to her, it may help.”
I lay here wondering what the voices are talking about. What the hell happened? My eyes still won’t open. Do they know something I don’t? My arms and legs are heavy too. For the love of God, what is going on? Where did my familiar voice go? I want to hear it again. I’m determined to concentrate really hard, but my nose is distracting me. It smells like plastic and itches like something’s attached to it. Please. I don’t know who or what I’m begging to. I need to move my fingers.
Finally... success! I manage to faintly squeeze the hand that holds mine and by doing so, it brings my familiar voice back to life.
“Wallflower?” The hand squeezes back. “It’s ok, open your eyes.” My eyes move beneath my heavy lids. But that’s all. Where is my voice? I try to squeeze again. “Come on, baby. Please try. I’m here. Open your eyes.”
In mass determination my eyelashes flutter. I want to please the voice that speaks to me. They feel like heavy sandbags, but I manage to pry them open. To my enjoyment, I see my angel. Complete with my favorite dimples, Phillip’s face greets me when I can finally peek through my lashes. “Samantha?” He kisses my hand he’s holding and leans closer.
I’m confused and I want to talk, but my throat’s scratchy and sore. I try to clear it, but it’s unpleasant. “Where...”
“Sshh, I’ll get the nurse.” He turns and motions to a woman who catches his attention, and then turns back to me. “You’re ok, baby. I’m here.”
My eyebrows push together. “Nurse?” I ask in a garbled voice. I don’t understand. Why am I in the hospital?
Before he can answer, I look around and notice that I have an IV in my hand and several bags with liquid hanging above me. I realize that I’m wearing an oxygen tube around my nose and my clothes have been exchanged for a hospital gown. My eyes must have filled with panic because Phillip and the nurse, now at my bedside, are trying to calm me down.
“You’re ok.” The velvety gentle tone of my nurse’s voice is calming. She smiles and begins to check my vitals, scratching the numbers onto a scrap of paper. Phillip rubs my hand letting the nurse speak. “How ya feeling?”
I feel drunk, well what I guessed drunk would feel like. Drowsy maybe. “Weird.”
“Maybe sleepy?” she asks. I nod. “That’s because of the medicine. You just came out of a long surgery.”
That pops my eyes wide open. “What?” My voice is thick with panic, and needing more details, I look to Phillip for answers. The beeps on the machine are closer together now.
“I promise you’re ok,” he answers calmly. “I’ll explain in a minute,” he whispers. My nurse is listening to me with her stethoscope. After a short silence, she unplugs the stethoscope from her ears and slings it around her neck. She types into a computer hooked to the wall, making several notes.
“I’ll get you a few ice chips for your throat, but I can’t let you have too many yet. Would you like that?” I nod in agreement and the nurse smiles then leaves through the curtain.
When I examine Phillip closer, I notice something else that’s wrong, but he quickly begins explaining. “Do you remember anything about it?” He’s still holding my hand, his compassionate eyes measuring my face carefully.
“I don’t remember much, just that I felt really horrible.”
“I didn’t think you were acting right.” He seems confident that he’s still able to read me. Phillip can always tell when my smiles are genuine, and which ones are forced. “You collapsed at school during cap and gown measurement.”
“Oh my gosh! You mean I passed out at school?” Now I am humiliated. I’ve tried for so long to conceal my illness.
My nurse returns. “Well now, it’s nice to see a little color. You were kind of pale before, but that’s normal after a surgery.” She hands Phillip my cup of ice chips. Her warm smile is comforting. “Just a few. I’ll be back in a little bit.”
Phillip feeds me a half spoonful of ice. The cool sensation slides down my throat soothing it immediately. “Why are you wearing a hospital gown?”
He smiles and winks, spooning another half spoonful of ice chips from the cup. “Aww, they’re standard issue these days.”
“No, they’re not. You said I passed out and then had surgery. None of this makes sense.” My eyebrows crease together. Phillip can’t stand to see me upset and it hurts to talk. My throat is raw. I know he’s slowly easing me into the story, but I can’t take the suspense. I shake my head in frustration. I want to sit up more but my torso hurts.
“No, no baby, don’t try to move yet.” He sets the cup of ice down and wheels a little closer to me. He’s in a wheelchair!
I feel my pulse spiking. I’m becoming hysterical. “Why are you in a wheelchair?” My eyes are tearing up and I can’t disguise the alarm in my voice.
“Ssh, calm down. Like I said, you collapsed. It was because your kidneys were shutting down. Cyn and I raced to get you to the hospital. I didn’t wait for a teacher to give me permission. Roxy met us here. While they assessed you...” His voice breaks, explaining the memory. I can see this is hard for him. It must have been hell seeing me like that. His lip quivers and his eyes become glassy. His hand is soft and warm giving my hand a squeeze.
“I’m sorry that I scared you,” I whisper.
Clearing his throat to collect himself, he smooths my hair before continuing. “Doc said you needed your transplant now. So, they started to prep me.”
I wince because my side hurts. I don’t fully grasp what he said before my nurse returns. “Honey, are you hurting a little?”
“I am.” I’d like to smile out of politeness but I’m not sure that I’m up to it. The break gives Phillip a moment to collect himself.
“I’ll get you a little medicine to help with that.” She turns her focus to my boyfriend, “Phillip, how are you doing? Any pain?”
What? Why would he be hurting?
“Not bad, I’ll rest when she does.”
“Why would you be in pain?” My eyes focus securely on him now. What part of the puzzle did I miss?
“He gave you one of his kidneys, darlin’, didn’t he tell you?”
Inhaling sharply, I can hardly contain my gasp. “What?” Phillip’s eyes are glassy again, but his smile speaks loudly. Unable to find his words he simply nods. “You? You gave me your kidney?” Shock invades every cell of my body.
“Yes, baby. You don’t mind, do you?” He raises my hand to his mouth and rests it against his lips as if he’s seeking approval.
Tears stream down my face. “Your dad...he’s gonna kill you...and me! Oh my gosh, your scholarship.” My free hands smack my forehead while my thoughts rage inside. “Can you still play football? What about...” I’m rambling uncontrollably before Phillip breaks in again.
“Sshh...calm down. Everything will work out.” His whispers are reassuring but I’m too alarmed, however touched, at the same time. All my thoughts are running together, chattering endlessly in my mind. “You need to rest. You’ve been through a lot, Wallflower.” He nods to the nurse who then injects something into my IV and my head goes fuzzy.
“Don’t leave me,” I mumble before my eyelids are too heavy again.
“I’ll be here when you wake up,” he promises.
*
“How long did I sleep?” Phillip’s by my bed, but we’re in a room this time, instead of recovery. It’s quiet. Peaceful.
“Couple hours. Roxy’s here, but she went down to the cafeteria with my mom.” He pushes the call button on my bed and a nurse answers. “Samantha’s awake,” he reports with enthusiasm.
I remember all he had told me before I’d gone to sleep, and begin to cry. To know I passed out in front of classmates is embarrassing. So much for hiding anything now. Having to be rushed to the hospital I know had to scare Phillip half to death. I can’t even begin to imagine what torture that must have been for him. Seeing me so sick that I’m rendered unconscious. He must have felt helpless and terrified. I know I would have been.
“Sshh...Why are you crying?” His tone is soft and tender, yet still true to the strong, husky voice I know so well. “Are you in pain?”
“It’s just so overwhelming. I’m sorry,” I sniffle, but the oxygen tube by my nose only tickles, making things worse.
“Samantha, you’re in a hospital bed, why are you apologizing?” His thoughtful expression is soothing, but I thought he would be more nervous than he is. Wasn’t he worried about the inevitable wrath his father would soon deliver? He’ll have to face the music sometime. And all because of me.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in one too? I can’t believe you gave me a kidney.” I try to cover my eyes with my hand but forgetting my IV as it tugs. “Ow!”
Phillip leans close to my ear and whispers, “I thought you liked me inside you.” This statement accompanied by his devilish grin makes me laugh and I can feel my cheeks blush. “That’s better.” He continues, “Seriously though, I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you and if I had anything within my grasp that could help, that’s what I chose.”
“But...” I try to object, only then noticing Phillip’s IV stand of his own. How did I not see that earlier?
“No buts. I choose you. My choice, not yours, not dad’s. The choice was mine. I read that a live donor gives you a much better possible outcome versus a kidney from a cadaver.” I shudder at the idea of an organ coming from a corpse. “I researched it a while back and had some tests run. Since dad had me so fit to play football, well, that worked in our favor.” His smile is grand. I think he’s taking pride having the last laugh where Coach was concerned. My mouth opens, but I don’t know where to begin. “Don’t thank me.” His eyes lock onto mine. Swimming deep in his chocolate brown gaze is the hint of satisfaction. He’s finally pleased with being able to help me. I can see that now, and I won’t take it away from him.
“I love you,” I say, but I wish I could say more. My hand reaches out for him. Carefully, he stands from his wheelchair and leans over me.
“I love you too, baby.” A teardrop falls to my chest just after he kisses me. I wipe his cheek and smile, adoring him. Our brief embrace is cut short when the nurse comes in to check on me.
“Ah-hem,” she clears her throat.
“Hey, Judith.” Phillip already knows the nurse’s name on duty.
“Your mom is coming down the hall.” She winks at him and joins my bedside. Phillip eases back down into his wheelchair and lets her check my vitals.
In a few short minutes, our room is flooded with Roxy and Phillip’s mom. His dad never visits but that’s fine with me. Cynthia and Knox stop in just before visiting hours are over. My guess is that Cyn planned it that way since she doesn’t like hospitals. I understand and that’s ok with me. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have to be. Ultimately, at the end of the day, it’s just me and Phillip. We’re blessed in many ways. We were given a recovery room to share which is nice. We don’t have to be away from each other or share a room with strangers. We’re blessed because we have friends and family that care about us. Most importantly, we’re blessed to have each other. Phillip is my boyfriend, my prince, my angel. I owe my life to him.