Page 3 of Emily’s Moments (Shorts #3)

Emily’s POV

It had been two days since Jefferson was moved to the ICU after his initial surgery.

The club was sending up more clothes for me, and today all the Old Ladies were coming with enough food for everyone in the unit.

Staff and family members! They had been bringing clothes and food for me yesterday, but today was the first day that food was being brought for everyone.

I honestly think they were doing this to keep everyone happy and not too mad that I was here all the time.

The hospital doesn’t have to let me stay, and the club doesn’t have to do all of this.

I’ve mentioned it to the girls, to my son-in-law, hell!

Even to Prez! The man won’t take ‘no’ for an answer, and none of them would listen to my protests that this was too much!

Every day, they said they were going to bring enough food to feed an army for at least two meals. Always breakfast, and always dinner.

The doctors told me during their rounds today that if he didn’t wake up in the next six hours, by noon, they were going to put a nasogastric tube in his nose for him to get nutrients.

I felt like a robot. Had it already been long enough to start thinking of these things?

I felt like the world had stopped. It was weird because somehow, while time had stopped, it also kept moving, flowing for everyone else.

I signed the paperwork, never moving far from his bedside.

I thought maybe he just needed a little more time before he woke up.

He had to wake up. I had to give him every fighting chance. Anything to help him come back to me.

He had a bunch of scans scheduled today to check where he was in his recovery.

Checking brain function, checking spinal function, seeing if there was paralysis, and if he responded to painful stimuli or not.

After they left, I set to work gently washing his face and brushing his teeth with mouthwash with those mouth swab things they stock at the hospital.

I didn’t want him to get stinky breath. It was all I could do for now.

At least with this many tubes and wires everywhere.

I couldn’t wait until he woke up and we could get him home.

I talked to him; I told him what was happening with our family, that they’d be here soon to visit.

The girls came to see him. I didn’t want the grandkids to see him like this.

Not unless they were older and wanted to.

I let the girls make the final decisions on that.

My main focus was on my husband.

After their visit, I told him about the weather, whatever memory of us and our relationship popped into my head that day.

I read him the books I was reading, though I knew they weren’t his favorite, and would tell me the only reason he bought them was for the detailed instructions on things we could do together, and how to do them.

And I prayed. As hard as I could, both quietly and out loud. Hoping he could hear me, hoping the universe would hear me. I prayed he could hear me with him. I hoped he would know I was here and hopefully be comforted by that fact.

The NG tube went in at one that afternoon. They hooked him up to a tube feed that runs in small amounts consistently. Seeing him with another added tube, that took me back to Alex. I stood there, as memories of the man I hadn’t thought about in almost two decades assaulted my mind.

*Flashback*

Alex’s NG tube was going to be placed in about two hours.

He’d been looking pale and sweaty for the last ten minutes, but I couldn’t get anyone to come look at him.

I knew something was wrong. You could tell just by looking at him.

His nurse was in with another patient who took a turn for the worse, and everyone seemed busy with that.

I grabbed the aide, asking that they let the nurse know Alex looked pale and sweaty, that he didn’t look like he was doing alright, and that he was a full code.

He peeked into the room, taking one look at Alex, and took off running for the nurse.

I turned around to fuss over him some more just as his alarms blared out into the room.

It was so loud that I was just staring at my husband.

He had blood around his mouth, and his eyes were closed. He looked dead!

Oh God!

All of a sudden, everything slowed down.

It felt like everything was running in slow motion, like time was slowing down so I could see everything.

So, it could be burned into my brain forever.

Just when it felt like the slowed-down time would consume me, I was pulled out of the room.

Over the hospital PA system, I heard a voice.

“Code Blue, ICU Room Four. Code. Blue. ICU. Room. Four.”

And seemingly coming from nowhere, swarms of doctors and nurses and all kinds of people from other departments came flooding into his room.

I watched as the crash cart was wheeled in, and drawers were pulled open.

I watched as Alex was stabbed in the chest with what I heard was epinephrine as other orders were being shouted across the bed, and loudly.

I looked on in horror as someone climbed onto his bed to start CPR.

I watched as blood continued coming out of his mouth, every time they pushed on his chest as they did the chest compressions.

Wheeling his bed out of the room, a nurse was doing CPR on top of his, and a team of people was running with him down the corridor away from me.

I was left standing there, someone was trying to talk to me, but I couldn’t hear anything they were saying.

I was in complete and utter shock at what had just happened.

What just happened to Alex?

One of the nurses with the group came back for his paper chart they still used, just in case, and she saw me.

“Are you his wife?” She asked, looking tenderly at me like I might break into a million pieces at any moment.

I nodded. Not being able to form words. She reached her hand out, “Come with me.” I followed along, clinging to her hand like a lifeline, as she led me through the hallways.

She left me in the waiting room, my belongings somehow on my lap.

Please don’t let my husband die. We’ve only just begun.

If only I had known.

Shaking the memory away, I took a deep breath in and out.

Trying to keep myself calm, and remember this was not Alex, nor his situation.

Jefferson was not Alex. He wouldn’t leave me.

I was simply thankful he’d been as stable as he had been the last two days.

I was expecting something bad to happen, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but the longer time stretched on, the more I felt like I could breathe a little better.

I could feel my guard go down a little bit.

A really little bit. We made it past that first hurdle.

We could do this. He could pull through.

“You can do this. Stay with me, Jeff, please. Come back to me,” I kissed his hand.

“I miss you, Jefferson.” I rubbed his hands, massaging them, knowing it was a good way to keep his hands from getting stiff.

I also asked for something, like boots for his feet, if he’s going to be like this longer, to help prevent foot drop.

I was catching up on nursing protocols, reading, and doing all I could to be proactive in Jefferson’s recovery.

Anything to help him.

Ryder came to visit after his grandpa had the NG tube placed.

He came in, and he sucked in a breath. Tears sprang to my first grandbaby’s eyes.

He was in his first year of college, aiming for law school next.

He was a giant of a boy at six-four, but he still let his grandma wrap him up in a hug.

My little guy just cried into my shirt, dwarfing me and soaking my shoulder.

He was taking this hard, much like I expected.

They had a special bond and were incredibly close.

“H-H-How is G-G-Grandpa?” He sobbed out, trying to calm down enough to get his words out without stuttering, still holding onto me. Like I was his life preserver, in this turbulent ocean of emotions he was feeling, but I was holding onto him just as hard.

“He just got a tube in his nose to make sure they can feed him since he hasn’t woken up yet,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm even though I felt like I was being held together with Elmer's glue. He chuckled.

“He’s gonna hate that. He’s always said your cooking was the best.” That made me smile and laugh a little.

I tried to keep the tears in, but it was no use.

I was smiling and crying because I was happy that someone else was giving me their happy memories of my wonderful Jefferson.

I loved hearing about him from others, but those were sad times, too, because I was so scared I might never hear Jefferson compliment my cooking again. I didn’t think I could bear that.

“He’s doing okay. He’s still got a long way to go, but he’s looking more like himself every day. I just want him to open those eyes so I can take him home.” He squeezed me hard as we looked at Jefferson laying in the bed, looking both too big and too small for it, at the same time.

“I know. He’s my only grandpa. I want him home too.” He pulled away, and I let him. We stood in the small room, made smaller by all the machines, just watching the rise and fall of his chest. The results of his scans should be back soon.

I hoped for good news. I needed something good to hang on to.