Page 47 of The Road Ahead
When Rio returned with a tray of coffee cups from the vending machine, I hurried over to help them. “It’s pretty horrible,” they warned me. “The cafeteria opens soon so I’ll head there and get some nicer coffee when they open.”
“Thank you,” I said. I leaned forward to kiss them, but they pulled back a little, eyes cutting to where my parents sat. “What’s wrong?” I asked, frowning.
Rio bit their bottom lip, unable to make eye contact with me. “I just don’t want to give them anything else to worry about right now,” they said quietly.
I glanced over at my parents, who weren’t paying us any attention. “Honestly, Rio, in the grand scheme of things, I don’t think they’ll care.”
They shrugged. “Maybe not, but it’s a little selfish to put that on them right now, isn’t it?”
I had to concede they had a point. “Fair enough,” I said, and then stepped aside so they could pass over the drinks to my parents.
Time slowed to a crawl. The clock on the wall hardly moved as we sat there, waiting for news. Our empty coffee cups were stacked on a spare chair, Rio had their arms around my mom, who was dozing, and Dad was pacing in front of the window. I could tell he was doing his best to keep it together but he was starting to come apart at the seams the longer we went withoutany news. I had gone to the reception desk to ask for an update twice, but each time I was told the doctor would see us when they could.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a doctor appeared. She was tall, with an angular face and dark brown hair, twisted up into a bun. “Are you the family of Teresa Thomas?” she asked. When we nodded and stood, she came closer. “I’m Doctor Maya Verasamy,” she introduced herself. “I’ve been in charge of Teresa’s treatment tonight.”
“Is she alright?” Mom asked, her voice catching.
“Teresa’s condition is still very serious, but we finally have her stabilized,” Doctor Verasamy said kindly.
“Oh, thank God,” Mom cried, falling against my dad.
Relief washed through me and I blinked back tears. Rio reached up and rubbed soothingly at my back.
“Can we see her?” Dad asked.
Doctor Verasamy shook her head. “Sorry, not yet. She’s been taken for an MRI so we’ll have more of an idea of the extent of any brain injury. Once she’s been transferred to a bed in the ICU, visitors will be allowed in.”
“What other injuries does she have?” my dad asked.
“X-rays showed at least three broken ribs and a broken sternum from the resuscitation. She has sustained a head injury, but as I said, we’re working to establish the extent of that. She also has various cuts, scrapes, and some internal bleeding,” the doctor said. “A laceration on her scalp has required stitches.”
“Oh, my poor little girl,” Mom whispered, tears spilling over her cheeks.
“I’ll come back and update you when we have more news,” Doctor Verasamy assured us.
“Thank you,” I said, and we watched as she left the waiting room.
Exhaustion washed over me suddenly, and I swayed on my feet. “Woah!” Rio cried, and guided me into a chair.
“Sorry,” I muttered, rubbing at my face. Now we knew Teresa was at least stable, I was crashing, hard.
“Stay there,” Rio instructed. “I’ll go get you some water.”
“Thank you. For everything.”
They squeezed my shoulder and gave me a gentle smile. “I meant what I said,” they told me. “I’ve got you, Cooper.”
There was nothing I was more certain of.
I had never known exhaustion like this.
It had been two weeks since the night of the accident and I had lost count of how many times I’d made the trip from Stony Creek to the hospital in Duluth. Rio had been my anchor during that time. They kept us all plied with coffee and snacks, ventured out into town to bring us proper food when we got sick of the terrible meals offered in the cafeteria, and had also taken it upon themself to track down Brad’s family and check in with them as to how he was doing.
I don’t think I would have managed without them by my side, and simply having them sitting next to me, holding my hand, had kept me from breaking down when the stress had gotten too much.
When Doctor Verasamy told us that first night Teresa was stable, I knew that didn’t mean all the danger had passed, but at least she’d have a fighting chance. And fight she did. Teresa regained consciousness, although she was in and out of it for a couple of days, but the initial cognitive tests looked promising.
She had some mild symptoms of pulmonary ischemia, which they hit with oxygen therapy and antibiotics, but given she was strong and healthy before the accident, she responded well to the treatment. There was a slight setback a few days later when Teresa started experiencing chest pains, and the doctors worried about subsequent cardiac arrest. After a battery of tests showed her heart was in great health given the circumstances, they determined she’d suffered a panic attack. I knew it wouldn’t be her last, and she’d probably have some form of PTSD from her experience.
