Page 100 of Poetry By Dead Men
"Bobby's okay? You spoke with his mom?" I say, wasting no time once Crystal is gone.
Molly grabs my hand. "He's in and out. How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine. Molly, what do you mean?" Usually, I can read her easily, but she's not quite looking me in the eye. It makes my lungs constrict, panic fluttering through my blood with every heartbeat.
She pulls out her phone. "I took notes, but I still don't quite understand what the doctor was saying." Once she has her notes app open, she grabs my hand, finally meeting my eyes. "Are you sure you can handle this? It's not good news, Beth…"
A sob tries to break free from my throat, but I hold it in, taking deep breaths. I'll be damned if I let that monitor go off before I know what's happening.
"Okay," Molly tilts her head, studying me for a second before continuing with a reassuring squeeze. "The paramedics said Bobby was partially ejected from the car. His sternum was crushed, and a shard from the windshield penetrated his chest into his heart."
I gasp, nausea surging up my throat, and the monitor’s beeping picks up in rhythm. In less than a second, Crystal is there, standing in the doorway. "I told you—"
"Please," I say, my voice breaking. "I have to know.”
Crystal takes a deep breath, but when she looks at me, her eyes are soft and kind. "Five minutes. If your heart rate doesn't slow in five minutes, I'm going to insist you rest."
"I'll hurry," Molly says, and suddenly, they seem to be on the same page.
I nod at Molly to continue, expecting Crystal to leave. But instead, she steps just inside the room and leans against the wall.
"Umm…" Molly says, flustered. "He was hemorrhaging into his chest wall and pericardial sac?"
"Bleeding into the tissues that protect the heart," Crystal says, nodding for Molly to continue.
Molly gives her a small smile of thanks. "It caused a cardiac tamponade..."
"The heart was compressed by the blood in the sac," Crystal clarifies.
"Yes, and he went into cardiogenic shock. Which is abrupt heart failure? Right?" Molly asks.
"Right," Crystal says. "It causes cardiac arrest.”
Molly nods. "I have that right here. He went into cardiac arrest and was taken directly to the OR where the blood was drained from around his heart, and he had a massive transfusion protocol."
Crystal nods but doesn't add anything.
"He was unstable when he got to the ICU, and shortly after arriving, went into cardiac arrest again, and his heart completely failed despite max vasopressor therapy."
Crystal is nodding, confirming without saying so that Molly's notes are correct. "Vasopressors raise blood pressure to get blood to your organs."
"Surgeons were consulted immediately for ECMO cannulation and placed Bobby on the transplant list as status one.”
Crystal walks forward to sit on my bed, and suddenly, it's like she and Molly are on the same team. "It's the most urgent designation for transplants. ECMO essentially pumps the blood through the body through a big machine, oxygenating it. It's not a long-term solution."
I'm still breathing slowly, in through my nose and out through my mouth. Everything feels fuzzy, and I consider pinching myself to see if I can wake up. "So, he needs a heart transplant."
Molly nods, her lower lip trembling. "I'm sorry, Beth."
"Can I see him?" I ask Crystal, letting her see the full extent of my pain. It's a mistake. The second I let my guard down, I can't pull it back up. I start to sob, then sob even harder because the way my chest heaves makes my ribs burn with agony. My head hurts, and my heart hurts, and then my oxygen drops, the monitor beeping so loud it makes my headache grow.
"Off the bed," Crystal orders Molly, who jumps up without hesitation. "You need to breathe, Beth. You can see him. But not until you calm down. I can't take you off the monitor, even just for a visit, until you're stable.”
But I can't stop the panic. My head swims, my vision blurring.
"You're going to be okay," she says, pulling a syringe and vial from her cart. "This will help with anxiety. Let you sleep a little. Okay?"
I nod, because I'm desperate for an escape from this agony I'm feeling, both physical and emotional. A shard of glass punctured Bobby's heart. He coded more than once. He died, and was brought back, and could die again if he doesn't get a new heart.
