Page 85 of Where We Fall

I try to think about all the emotions swarming me right now and focus on the strongest one. “Guilty.”

“Why do you feel guilty?”

“Cuz I’m not there with her. She doesn’t have anybody else but me, and I moved to another state while she needs me the most.”

“You were just trying to follow your dreams.”

“I guess. Still, it doesn’t mean I should’ve taken a job so far from her.”

He takes my hand, and we sit silently the rest of the way. The tea was soothing to my body, but it did nothing to calm my racing thoughts.

We hop in a car service when we get to Chicago. The hospital is another twenty-minute drive. I have already called the hospital to check on her. They said she is currently sedated while they run some tests.

That allows me to relax in the car. At least I know that she isn't awake and still freaking out.

I love how Marcus isn’t pushing to talk or distract me. I’m not in the mood to be distracted. It’s comforting enough to just have him here with me.

We get to the hospital and find her room on the third floor. She’s already been admitted. When we get to the room, I walk in and see her fragile-looking body.

Why is it so hard to see a loved one in a hospital bed? It’s such a reminder of how impermanent life is.

I take a seat next to her and hold her hand. Marcus leans against the windowsill behind me, letting me have my moment.

A doctor walks in, holding a stack of papers and a folder.

“Hello. I’m Dr. Lee. Are you Elaine’s daughter?”

“I am. My name is Lexi.”

“Nice to meet you, Lexi. I was just looking over your mother’s x-rays. She has suffered a pretty significant crack to her hip. I believe the best course of action is immediate surgery, followed by an extensive outpatient physical therapy program.”

A broken hip? How could she have fallen so hard? I’m in shock that the injury is this significant. I was thinking a broken arm or something.

“How long is the recovery process for this?” I ask.

“Full recovery is different for everybody. It depends on how mobile they are and their dedication to physical therapy. It can take anywhere from four months to a year. Now, what we are going to have an issue with is your mother's mental state. Some people with her disease can be very reluctant or flat-out refuse to participate in the physical therapy. If that’s the case, she may never fully recover.”

“What?” I cry. “What does that even mean?”

“If she doesn’t do the physical therapy, she may need assistance with a walker or cane. Worst possible outcome with no physical therapy would be a wheelchair.”

“But if she does do the therapy,” Marcus chimes in behind me, “she could make a full recovery.”

“Absolutely. It’s just hard to know how she will react to therapy. You will have to take it one day at a time."

“When is she going to have the surgery?” I ask.

I feel Marcus’s hand on my shoulder.

“Tomorrow morning.”

He answers my questions as my brain struggles to think of everything I want to know.

“Will she wake up tonight?” I ask.

“We have her on some heavy sleeping and pain medications to keep her comfortable. It’s preferable that she get a full night’s rest before the surgery. Her body will handle the surgery better if it’s well rested.”

“Ok. So, I can just sleep here, I guess.” I point to the chair in the corner of the room.

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