Not Quite Mine
Page 77
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“Of course.”
Valerie stood and the rest of them followed.
The short walk through the department felt like a mile. Every doorway they passed held another patient. All of them were lying in hospital beds surrounded by machines. A series of beeps and dings was a constant reminder that lives hung in the balance. Nurses and doctors walked around them, nearly ignoring them. The professionals in this department couldn’t be influenced by their position, their wealth, the Morrison name. They didn’t part the way like those outside the ICU doors. This was a place where any and all of them could end up and it seemed everyone here knew that.
Valerie paused outside a door and turned to the three of them. “There is a machine helping her breathe, lots of tubes going into her, coming out of her. She’s pretty bruised up with a cut on her forehead.”
Why was it the closer she came to seeing her mother the worse she felt? On the plane on the way to Florida, Katie couldn’t have cared less, or so she kept telling herself. Now, standing outside a room that only emitted the sound of equipment, Katie felt her throat clog and her eyes start to fill. She reached for the emotionless state she’d managed for years when she thought of her mother and couldn’t find it.
Valerie walked into the room and opened the curtain.
Annette lay still on the bed. The ventilator made a hissing noise with each breath she made. A tube protruded from her throat at an awkward angle.
“Damn,” her father muttered under his breath.
“Oh, shit,” Jack whispered.
“Hey, Annette. Your family is here.” Valerie walked into the room as if Annette were awake.
Annette didn’t twitch, didn’t blink. The only indication that she was alive was the consistent beep of the machine monitoring her heart rate and the hum of another that worked for her damaged lungs.
Katie’s eyes swelled and tears started silently falling.
The three of them sat around the room and watched the slow rise and fall of Annette’s chest.
Hours later, Katie stood outside the hospital with her cell phone cradled to her ear.
“I hate feeling like this, Monica.”
“Yeah…I know. It’s hard. My mom makes me crazy as hell but I wouldn’t handle her being jacked up and in the ICU either.”
It felt good talking to Monica. She answered questions that only she could.
Her mother was critically stable…whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. According to Monica, it meant she had a snowball’s chance but every hour and day made the snowball bigger and the temperature in hell drop. She had a chance.
“She’s so small. I remember her being so much larger.”
“She’s older,” Monica reminded her. “And you were a kid the last time you saw her.”
“She’s so helpless.”
“What did the doctor say?”
“Broken ribs…messed up lungs, spleen ruptured. I don’t know…bunch of crap I didn’t understand.” Katie waved her hand in front of her face to find some relief from the heat.
“What about the nurse, what did she say?”
“She’s hopeful.”
Monica paused. “Good. Your mom has a chance, then.”
“Really? I mean…that’s good. God, I shouldn’t care.” Katie hated that she did.
“Yeah…but you do. It’s OK. I’d probably feel exactly like you if something happened to my dad and I knew about it. Hell, I don’t even know if he’s alive or dead.”
“That might be better.”
“I don’t know, Katie. Listen, I’d be happy to talk to the nurse, get a grip on what’s going on, if you want.”
“Would you?” Not that Katie thought Valerie was keeping anything from her, but it would be nice hearing something from someone who knew more than she did.
“You’ll have to tell the nurse she can talk to me. All those HIPAA laws keep lips sealed in hospitals.”
“OK. I’ll let her know you’ll call.”
Katie gave Monica the number to the ICU and hung up.
She placed a call to Dean but it ended up on voice mail. She lied and told him she was fine and that she’d call him later.
Later didn’t come for several hours.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Considering the fact that Katie had no desire to see her mother a week ago, she was disturbed by her desire to stay close to the hospital now. Her internal debate as to why fought inside her mind when she walked down the now familiar path to the ICU from the hospital cafeteria.
The nurses weren’t strict with the visiting hour rules. Some families were forced to stay out of a patient’s room so the nurses could work. Since Annette was in a medically induced coma, there was no need to make any of the Morrisons stay away.
Jack and Gaylord had left the hospital about an hour before to grab a bite to eat.
Valerie walked into the room with an IV bag in her hand. “How are you holding up?” she asked.
Katie glanced at her mother from across the room and shrugged. “We weren’t close.”
Valerie went about her task. “Your friend Monica told me that.”
Monica had been great. She explained things in a way that made sense. She kept her explanations free of a bunch of medical terms that no one but those who worked in a hospital understood, and got down to the facts.
“I’m sure it’s still hard seeing your mother like this.”
Katie sipped her cooling coffee. “I haven’t seen her like anything in a very long time.”
Valerie stood and the rest of them followed.
The short walk through the department felt like a mile. Every doorway they passed held another patient. All of them were lying in hospital beds surrounded by machines. A series of beeps and dings was a constant reminder that lives hung in the balance. Nurses and doctors walked around them, nearly ignoring them. The professionals in this department couldn’t be influenced by their position, their wealth, the Morrison name. They didn’t part the way like those outside the ICU doors. This was a place where any and all of them could end up and it seemed everyone here knew that.
Valerie paused outside a door and turned to the three of them. “There is a machine helping her breathe, lots of tubes going into her, coming out of her. She’s pretty bruised up with a cut on her forehead.”
Why was it the closer she came to seeing her mother the worse she felt? On the plane on the way to Florida, Katie couldn’t have cared less, or so she kept telling herself. Now, standing outside a room that only emitted the sound of equipment, Katie felt her throat clog and her eyes start to fill. She reached for the emotionless state she’d managed for years when she thought of her mother and couldn’t find it.
Valerie walked into the room and opened the curtain.
Annette lay still on the bed. The ventilator made a hissing noise with each breath she made. A tube protruded from her throat at an awkward angle.
“Damn,” her father muttered under his breath.
“Oh, shit,” Jack whispered.
“Hey, Annette. Your family is here.” Valerie walked into the room as if Annette were awake.
Annette didn’t twitch, didn’t blink. The only indication that she was alive was the consistent beep of the machine monitoring her heart rate and the hum of another that worked for her damaged lungs.
Katie’s eyes swelled and tears started silently falling.
The three of them sat around the room and watched the slow rise and fall of Annette’s chest.
Hours later, Katie stood outside the hospital with her cell phone cradled to her ear.
“I hate feeling like this, Monica.”
“Yeah…I know. It’s hard. My mom makes me crazy as hell but I wouldn’t handle her being jacked up and in the ICU either.”
It felt good talking to Monica. She answered questions that only she could.
Her mother was critically stable…whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. According to Monica, it meant she had a snowball’s chance but every hour and day made the snowball bigger and the temperature in hell drop. She had a chance.
“She’s so small. I remember her being so much larger.”
“She’s older,” Monica reminded her. “And you were a kid the last time you saw her.”
“She’s so helpless.”
“What did the doctor say?”
“Broken ribs…messed up lungs, spleen ruptured. I don’t know…bunch of crap I didn’t understand.” Katie waved her hand in front of her face to find some relief from the heat.
“What about the nurse, what did she say?”
“She’s hopeful.”
Monica paused. “Good. Your mom has a chance, then.”
“Really? I mean…that’s good. God, I shouldn’t care.” Katie hated that she did.
“Yeah…but you do. It’s OK. I’d probably feel exactly like you if something happened to my dad and I knew about it. Hell, I don’t even know if he’s alive or dead.”
“That might be better.”
“I don’t know, Katie. Listen, I’d be happy to talk to the nurse, get a grip on what’s going on, if you want.”
“Would you?” Not that Katie thought Valerie was keeping anything from her, but it would be nice hearing something from someone who knew more than she did.
“You’ll have to tell the nurse she can talk to me. All those HIPAA laws keep lips sealed in hospitals.”
“OK. I’ll let her know you’ll call.”
Katie gave Monica the number to the ICU and hung up.
She placed a call to Dean but it ended up on voice mail. She lied and told him she was fine and that she’d call him later.
Later didn’t come for several hours.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Considering the fact that Katie had no desire to see her mother a week ago, she was disturbed by her desire to stay close to the hospital now. Her internal debate as to why fought inside her mind when she walked down the now familiar path to the ICU from the hospital cafeteria.
The nurses weren’t strict with the visiting hour rules. Some families were forced to stay out of a patient’s room so the nurses could work. Since Annette was in a medically induced coma, there was no need to make any of the Morrisons stay away.
Jack and Gaylord had left the hospital about an hour before to grab a bite to eat.
Valerie walked into the room with an IV bag in her hand. “How are you holding up?” she asked.
Katie glanced at her mother from across the room and shrugged. “We weren’t close.”
Valerie went about her task. “Your friend Monica told me that.”
Monica had been great. She explained things in a way that made sense. She kept her explanations free of a bunch of medical terms that no one but those who worked in a hospital understood, and got down to the facts.
“I’m sure it’s still hard seeing your mother like this.”
Katie sipped her cooling coffee. “I haven’t seen her like anything in a very long time.”
