Page 136 of Sing it, Sam

The machines continue to beep and do their job. Sam remains still.

One-sided conversations are so shit.

This whole situation is shit, but I have to stay positive.

“So, I hinted the other day that I had news,” I say in as chipper a voice as I can muster. I link my fingers between Sam’s, careful not to nudge the IV. Simply holding his hand, I choke up. I stare at Sam’s face, and run my fingers over the pale stubble on his jaw. This isn’t quite how I imagined I was going to tell him, but I have to do it. Talking is the only thing I can do right now. “I’ve spoken with Kim. You know, the lady who adopted Ed?”

The mention of his dog’s name seems to drive movement behind his eyelids, but no other physical response.He can hear me. I know it.

“Kim said she’ll take good care of Ed until you’re back in town. You’re getting your boy back, Sam. So, hurry up and get your arse better.”

A set of heavy boots plods in the background, growing louder with each step. Ben approaches with a giant-sized paper cup with a black lid.

“Thanks. I need this.” I let the hot drink warm my hands. “I was just telling Sam that when he moves out to Willow Creek, he can get Ed back.”

Ben takes a sip of his coffee and hands me a cut sandwich in a cardboard triangle-shaped box. “Jane,” he says, a warning in his tone.

“What? He’ll get through this, Ben. He beat it before. We have to stay positive.”

“It’s not easy,” he admits. “This is serious.”

“I won’t give up.”

As I nibble on my sandwich I update Sam on the residents at the home and upcoming events. When I start talking more in depth about my writing, an alarm beeps from one of the machines. Another blares with a series of flashing red lights and numbers.

I bolt upright and stare at Ben. “What do we do?”

He halts mid-chew and presses a red button on the wall beside the bed.

A flurry of medical staff enters, checking monitors and machines. A man picks up the phone handset on the wall and says “Dr Burgess is needed in W-ten-eleven.”

“If you wouldn’t mind waiting outside for a moment, we need to attend to a few things,” a short lady dressed in blue scrubs says, gripping my elbow and guiding me to the doorway. I peer in from the hall. My eyes glue to a forlorn-looking Ben.

A tall grey-haired man in a white coat whooshes past me and into the room. He disappears from view for a minute or so, and then appears and takes Ben aside. As Ben listens, arms crossed and eyes fixed to the floor, I catch the doctor say that Sam’s ‘blood pressure is fluctuating’ and something that sounds like ‘arrhythmia’.

Ben looks up and motions for me to come inside. My feet have never felt heavier as I walk towards the men.

“Dr Burgess. This is Jane, Sam’s girlfriend.”

The man extends his arm. My hand trembles as we shake.

“Jane,” he simply says. The doctor’s lips form a thin line. His nose whistles as he draws in a deep breath. “Sam is going downhill fast. As I said before, we’re doing all we can, but it might not be enough. You should think about saying goodbye.”

I choke on a scream as I curl into Ben’s side. Strong arms wrap around me. The force of his hold has the tips of his fingers clawing into the meaty part of my shoulder. The doctor mumbles something about contacting any other family.

“How long?” Ben asks in a gruff tone.

The doctor looks between the two of us. “As long as his heart holds out.”

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