Page 20 of Bound by Affliction
7
Green
The doctor runsthis spinning spike thing over the bottoms of Leah’s feet and the inside of her hands, getting no reaction from her. Thirty-six hours have passed and the sedation is fully removed from Leah. He said all he wanted was some slight sort of movement, but he’s not gettingit.
“I’d like for the three of you to step out while we remove the tube in her throat. We need to get everything inside her body going again, includingbreathing.”
“Is that safe? Do we know if she’ll breathe on her own?” Aaron asks while Stella has tears in hereyes.
The doctor slips his hands into his pockets and sighs, “This is the same as before. We must do it and worst-case scenario we can put her back on the ventilator. She is weaned down as low as she can be. This is all that’s left before she will become too dependent on it. But I have very high hopes that this will go smoothly according to all of her tests and bloodwork.”
“I’m not leaving.” The doctor stares at me knowing this is going to be a battle, one that I willwin.
“Sir, this is not something that you want to watch,” the doctor says, looking over to Leah’s parents for help with me. He’s out of luckthere.
“Yes, itis.”
“I could have security come up here,” hethreatens.
“You could. Still doesn’t mean I’ll leave.” Honest to God, one of those fuckers comes after me to leave, they’d better beprepared.
“Fine, but you must stay over by the window and no matter what you hear, you stay put. If you can’t do this, then I’ll have you removed by force if necessary.” I give no reaction as he exits the room to get the nurses to finally get this fucking tube out of her mouth. Now to just hope she breathes on her own. At least she has a shot, my motherdidn’t.
Ten minutes later, it’s taking all the restraint I have to stay near the wall, out of the way as the doctor removes the breathing tube. I can hear the bile sloshing and gurgling as the tube eases from her esophagus, and with each pull the gagging noises grow louder, causing my own bile to churn. When they finally take it out, the gagging becomes worse, but it only lasts moments. The doctor stares down at her, waiting, as am I to see her breathe. Fuck, she has to breathe. Seconds feel like an eternity as both fear and hope tangle around me, trying to squeeze the life out ofme.
Come on, baby. Breathe forme.
Seconds tick by, and I have no clue how many of them. All I know is my heart is thumping like I took drugs and sweat is gathering on my brow. Nerves rake through me, and pain slices through my gut every moment we stare at her body doing nothing but laying there. I can’t lose her—our time has juststarted.
Leah’s body jolts, arms swinging as she takes a deep intake of breath, then she exhales only to gasp repeatedly. The doctor’s shoulders instantly relax as he watches, mouthing numbers as he does. What he’s counting I have noclue.
Relief like no other hits me and finally, the air goes into my lungs.She’s breathing on her own. Thank you.Closing my eyes briefly, I look up to the heavens. Whatever is up there I’m grateful for thisgift.
The doctor reaches over and grabs a tube, and I look down to see it’s attached to an oxygen machine. I can’t help myself, so I ask out of curiosity, “Why does she need that?” My mind instantly thinks theworst.
“Her lungs need clean oxygen so they can start to work properly again. It’s just precautionary,” he says, not looking at me, then he talks to the nurse. “Contact me immediately if the machines go off.” She nods as the doctor walks to the door. “I’m going to talk to her parents but everything looks good.” Then he leaves as the nurse pushes buttons and maneuvers different tools and tubesaround.
Only then do I walk over to Leah. I’m not sure what I expected, maybe to see her gasping for breaths or choking every time she tries, but there’s nothing. Just steady even breathing. After the nurse leaves, I pull my chair back up to the side of her bed and grasp her hand gently kissing thetop.
“You’re scaring the shit out of me, Leah, and I haven’t been scared inyears.”
Her parents come in, and I reluctantly take a walk about the large circle that is the ICU with my hands in my pockets. If it weren’t for her parents I’d be next to her, but after the fifth lap, I head back in to see nothing haschanged.
“Son, you really should go get some decent sleep,” Aaron starts on meagain.
Giving my head a little shake, I argue, “I sleep just fine in thechair.”
“Stella is wiped out, and I’m taking her to get some rest. Will you callme…”
“If anything changes,” I fill in his sentence, one I’ve heard a dozen timesbefore.
“Thanks.” Her parents leave. It’s just me, Leah, and a bunch of machines that make different noises. But I’ve learned which sounds are the bad ones and these aren’t. It’s almost like listening to my bike, knowing exactly what is wrong just bysound.
Pulling out her letters, I turn to the next one and begin to read toher.
“Hi Ty!I’m just kidding,Green.
Thank you. Again. It seems to be my motto with you. Yesterday was amazing and I’m not going to lie—I was so nervous, but you could probably tell. Thanks for not throwing that in my face. Spending time face to face was so much different than talking on the phone or writing theseletters.
