by Leanne Davis
How do I say this? How do I repeat what he’s already been told? I know he isn’t listening as well as I am. He’s not registering what he’s hearing. We face each other and our knees are touching. I reach over and take his hand between both of mine. That finally lifts his gaze, and he fastens it on me.
“Damion… um… the doctors think she’s brain dead. They plan to talk to you about organ donation and letting her pass on. It’s that dire. There’s no hope. I’m sorry I have to say this, but there’s no other choice now.”
His face appears concerned, and his eyes narrow before they widen with shock. He looks as if a spotlight is shining right into his eyes. The human brain is pretty amazing. If we choose to, we can ignore or wish away reality with our thoughts, and I think that’s what my brother has done. No one hid any of this from him, yet he can’t begin to see it.
“You think there’s…” His voice falters as his eyes plead with me, “No hope?”
I keep my expression kind but firm as I shake my head. “My opinion doesn’t matter. But all the medical professionals agree after what the testing showed. Damion, she’s… not there.”
He nods, and tears fill his eyes before falling down his cheeks. “I know,” he whispers. His shoulders sag, and he nearly folds his body forward to bury his face in his hands. “I just don’t know how to tell my daughter her mom died.”
I lean forward and hug my brother. For a long time, we hug. I squeeze him. There are no words for this. It’s such a freaky situation. Ireena is too young, and this is too unexpected.
I hold him and let him sob on me. The bubble of his denial has finally burst, and now the shock is hitting him full force. It won’t be easy. Not now or tomorrow or the next day or even next year. There is no shortcut. There is nothing but living from one moment to the next and managing to survive.
“Do you want to discuss it? I mean, do you think she would want to be a donor? Is it something to consider?”
He nods, wiping his eyes as he rises and sits again. “How could I say no to that? Maybe it’s the only good that can come of this.”
I quickly wrap my arm around his shoulder and squeeze him. My heart swells. I feel the pain for my brother, but also my pride. I am proud when he so easily rises to the occasion. Already, he is seeking a positive result from the most unfair, horrific circumstances. There is no conversation or advice regarding this. Nobody knows the “what-ifs” regarding how to proceed when something like this is happening. I’m heartsick for him and for Ireena. Hell, I’m heartsick for us all.
“Can you tell them?”
The waiting room is full of our family. Not Ireena’s. Again, perhaps her survival skills came from people that weren’t all that nice to her. Maybe she never learned how to do the right things for other people. Damion walks into Ireena’s room, and I go the opposite way towards the waiting room, where we’ve been camped out. All the heads turn towards me. I give them a quick, respectful update. A hum of exclamations from tautly drawn faces follows. No one is happy. No talk of how this could become a good thing. It couldn’t. It’s the worst thing.
The weird part of this whole tragedy in my opinion is all the waiting involved. No one expects to wait for someone else to die. Like hanging off a dangerously steep precipice. You know it’s dangerous, and you’ll soon fall off, and once you hit the ground, everything inside will hurt. You’ll wish you were back up there again, just hanging off the edge of the cliff. But while you’re up there, you dread looking down. Fear clutches your heart and squeezes so tight, it hurts. The pain is ceaseless and hard to endure, and you just want to take that final step to terminate all of the waiting. The misery of not knowing and the boredom of waiting when the worst has yet to happen. Dreading the moment. And hating it.
But once it happens. It is done. Over. Finished. Death is permanent. And we all have to plod on. We learn to live with it. Every single one of us. The overwhelming unfamiliarity of it all leaves me flummoxed. I sit down and indulge the grisly dread for the next few hours… or is it a day? I don’t really know how long I sit.
Claudia sits near me but doesn’t talk. I look up when she slides into the chair next to me. We simply stare at each other. No words. No change in our expressions. No smiles. No tears. I feel her unspoken words of support, caring, and love for me. I feel it clear down to my toes. It’s that powerful. It eclipses the dread and doom that plagues me. I have renewed optimism as I silently clasp her hand, bringing it to my lap. We just sit there with our fingers intertwined, not looking up or talking. I’m desperately trying to remain numb.
Damion comes out looking even more dazed. Almost a decade older than he did only a few days ago. My parents surround him. But he comes towards me. I see the desperate look and sense he needs me, so I go to him. I release Claudia’s hand with a back glance of regret before I go to my brother. We huddle together outside Ireena’s room.
“The organ procurement coordinator is here to discuss… the process. If… I mean, when we make the decision to end life support… well, I guess if she dies before then, since they have no idea how long that might be, it will go very fast… and… and… Fuck!” Damion starts to shove his fist into the hospital wall. I have to dive and throw my hand right where his fist is about to make contact. I manage to blunt the blow to the wall. Otherwise, the wall would have a gaping hole in it and Damion might have a broken finger, or a broken hand.
He flinches at the pain when his fist hits my hand with a lot of force, but I am not damaged. He shudders. “What… how do I do this? They said… if we end life support, there’s no telling how long… it… will take for her body to shut down. They have no idea what it’ll be like. She could have a heart attack or she could just… you know, linger…”
“Just say goodbye to her… we all have to say goodbye. And then… let her go. I don’t think you have to be here when it happens.”
“Can I really do just that?”
“You really can, Damion. You need to do whatever is necessary to survive this. You have to have something left in you to help you take care of your daughter. You are still living. You still have to function for Dayshia. Ireena’s gone already. She won’t know what you did. But you’ll know you did everything you could. And Dayshia will someday know that, too.”
“Should Dayshia…” He presses his hand to his forehead, looking completely perplexed. He can’t think about the small or the huge tasks the staff and medical professionals demand from him. Damion is incapable right now of dealing with any of it.
“No.” I’m definite and my tone is final. “She is too young, and it will only terrify her for no positive reason.”
He nods and grows quiet again. Falling into a deep silence, he doesn’t move at all. I sit beside him and wait. I don’t push him. Five minutes tick by and then ten. Incessant waiting. I am dying to move, and I shuffle my feet. I am ready for a jog. I want to run away as far and as fast as I can. But I don’t. I restrain my desire to leave. I lean against the hallway and wait for my brother’s heart and brain to agree with what should happen. People wander past us. Families. Couples. Medical staff in scrubs. People delivering flowers and cards or simply sauntering past. Others hold coffee cups. Some look harried, tired, grieving, and just plain exhausted. Some seem as shell-shocked as my family. Others amble along as if this were a damn office building. Some show no concern in the world. A wedge of modern humanity passes as we stand there, waiting.
Finally, he nods his head and lifts his face to mine. His tears are dry. His mouth is pressed together in a hard line. “I think this has been enough.”
God, did he just punch his fist into my gut?
That’s how shocking his words sound when they enter my ears, swirling around my brain like water was poured inside my head. My mind is muddled and strange. And I can’t breathe. I feel as if I’ve been hit in the chest very hard, and I struggle to catch my breath. The words were not unexpected, but when they would be uttered was unknown. Damion has the final authority over Ireena’s life span.
How fucked up is that? Talk about pressure. What an unfair burden. The goddamned choice between life and death. No matter the facts, it doesn’t change the reality. The grisly responsibility is unceremoniously thrust on Damion. He has to make a decision about his young wife that most people can’t make when it comes to their own grandparents or parents.
I nod. I don’t need him to articulate it. “Do you want to say goodbye first?”
“Yes. Could you tell whoever the fuck needs to know?”
I touch his shoulder. “I’ll tell them. Take all the time you need.”
Stricken, he shrugs. “How much is enough time? Hours? Days? The lifetime we counted on sharing?”
I shudder. “I don’t know, Damion. But whatever you do or need is right. It’s enough. No one will ever criticize or judge you. We’ll all be here for you. With you. Praying for you and Ireena and Dayshia.”
He clears his throat. “When… I mean, after I’ve said goodbye, I’m going to pick up Dayshia. Will you let Kaeja know? And then, would you stay with Ireena? I can’t stand watching her die. I just can’t… do it. But I don’t want her to die alone.”
It’s the last thing on earth I would ever choose to do. Even worse than all the shit caused by Ireena and Damion when they cheated and hooked up. But without a second thought, I say, “Of course.”
He nods and doesn’t look at me again. He acts as if he’s a dead man walking to his execution. His shocked facial expression is something I cannot put words to. Anyone observing Damion would immediately realize he just endured the worst day of his life.
He goes into her room, and I wander back to the others to report the latest news. The last news. It’s pretty freaking terrible. I contact the doctor and coordinator and tell them what Damion wants. They, of course, have a protocol to follow which includes Damion so they meet with him to discuss all that is needed for things to proceed. They have to wait several hours in order to get the operation teams ready to extract the donations and prepare the recipients. Everything must be in place and ready to go. It’s like a carefully choreographed dance that I observe with great admiration. Focusing on the recipients helps me cope. It keeps me sane and my brain calm as I navigate through this.
Finally, I am alone in the hallway. I glance up and see Claudia standing at the other end of it. How does she always seem to appear when I need her most? Knowing her, she probably has one eye on me at all times so she can support me when necessary. I guess she’s done this for most of the entire tragedy and probably, for all of our lives.
Finally, I notice it?
I wonder now why she has any loyalty to me. I really don’t deserve it, do I? That’s all I can see now. But when our gazes meet, she comes towards me. Her steps are soft and quick. She seems somehow respectful, even in the way she walks. She’s always perfectly appropriate. I never realized how much I like that about her. Another reason why I enjoy being with her so much. She stops before she reaches me. I slouch and the steel rebar I tried to prop my spine up with disintegrates. I was there for Damion, and I now realize Claudia is doing the same thing for me.
“She’s brain dead… there’s no hope.”
She nods. “I heard.”
“I know. I just hoped if I said it to you it would make more sense.”
“I don’t think it ever will make any sense.”
“He wants me to stay with her.”
“Is he saying goodbye now?”
I shudder and nod. “Yeah. What would you say to your spouse for the last goodbye?”
Claudia simply steps forward and hugs me. I drop down into her embrace and let her hold me. I clutch her like a child would a superhero. So what if I’m taller and wider and stronger? I cling to her small frame as if she is holding me up. Of course, I am the one holding her because my weight would crush her small frame.
“I’ll do this. But how am I supposed to?” I say the words as my body shivers, and then I admit, “I hated her, Claudia.” She’s the only person on the planet I can admit that to. Heat singes my face instantly. Saying that out loud while the woman is dying no more than three doorways down from us, I clutch Claudia for support. I need her strength to stay upright. Her guidance and advice have been valued and appreciated by me for years, whether I wanted them or not.
My face burrows into the nook of her shoulder and neck. I shake my face back and forth over and over. “I can’t say that. She’s gone. The Ireena we all knew is gone, as far we understand. And yet this feeling… all my feelings…”
She rubs my back and calms me. She nods and kisses the side of my head. It’s not sexual, but sisterly. Supportive. Like a best friend. “You don’t have to like her. You didn’t do this to her. Don’t apologize for reacting to the bad things she did to you. This isn’t a theme that’s going away. She was exactly whom she was. You’re here for your brother. And only for your brother. That’s all that matters. Feel whatever you need to feel. And accept what you feel. You can’t control your feelings. They just are.”
I tighten my arms around her and wonder if she can breathe, I’m pressing her torso so tightly against mine. “I hate myself.”
“I’ll stay with you.”
I contort my body more into hers. “Thank you.” I hope she understands what that means to me.
We finally disengage our limbs and she stares up at me. I watch her. I wish the world would melt away. I wish we were anywhere but in the hospital hallway, where my sister-in-law is dying. I wish my brother wasn’t enduring the lowest point of his life with a woman who took me to the lowest point of mine. It’s all so confusing and frustrating.
I stand right outside Ireena’s room. The door is shut. I can hear Damion’s voice. It isn’t constant. I glance at my phone. He’s been in there for over an hour. So long, but maybe not long enough. Saying goodbye to your dreams and plans for a lifetime as a family and as parents sharing Dayshia isn’t easy. They started something they had to get over and move on from. Most likely, they moved on long before I did. I haven’t yet. They had to. After Dayshia was born, they had a mortgage and a real life to live together. That was all over now. Over and done.
Damion begged for my forgiveness and asked for my presence in his and Dayshia’s life. But he never did more than apologize for how he and Ireena got together. He never fully explained it. He didn’t confide any regrets to me about their marriage or Ireena’s pregnancy. We never talked about it. After our fist fight when I learned of their betrayal, we never saw each other in person again until Dayshia’s birthday party. We never discussed the paternity of Ireena’s baby or how Damion felt about it. They moved forward with their lives, and I remained completely stuck in mine. I couldn’t get over what I perceived was done to me and that gave me the right to be how I was.
I never dreamt the ending to that would be the death of Ireena.
I cross my arms over my stomach and wait. I slide down on my butt right there in the hallway. I have to be here when Damion comes out. I don’t know why. I just know I have to. Family members wander by and ask if I want a chair. No. A drink? Something to eat? No and no. They coax me to come back to the waiting room or offer to trade places with me. No. I sit there, my legs crossed so I don’t trip anyone. The staff glances at me but no one comments. They can’t begin to understand the absolute treachery that brought us here. They can’t understand the complexity of what I feel, waiting for a woman to die so I can comfort her spouse.
Claudia sits beside me and doesn’t talk, but again, she grips my hand. She gets up a few times to check with the family and comes right back. All at once, Damion jerks the door open. We clamber to our feet. His eyes seem feral as he stumbles as if he can’t see where he walks. I grab his arm and steady him. Claudia takes the other side. He doesn’t speak, and I don’t expect him to. He stops suddenly. In the middle of the corridor with people streaming everywhere. Claudia and I glance at each other, but we don’t ask him why he stopped or push him to move. He doesn’t speak for a long time.
“Did I do this?”
“Go and pick up Dayshia.”
He nods.
“We’ll stay. Claudia and I will be here with her.”
He closes his eyes as tears well up in his brown eyes. So similar to my own. “Dayshia. Yes.”
Mom finds us and stands back a moment, biting her lip, and wiping the streaming tears from her eyes. Then she walks forward, and Damion goes to her. He doesn’t cry, however. He stiffens his back and takes Mom into his arms. Maybe he takes comfort in comforting her.
I turn, and Claudia comes with me. We hold hands but not like lovers. We’re like two kids preparing to jump off a high rock into the water. Kids who are afraid. Not only of heights, but also of taking the huge jump. We need each other to make the other one do it. That’s what the connection feels like. Us being us again. Friends…yes, and so much more. I love the understanding in just being together. We don’t have to say any words. We don’t have to do anything. We just know by being.
We stop in front of Ireena’s door and glance at each other as we each take a breath. “Ready?”
“Never.” But I nod in the affirmative as I say it.
We enter the room.
We sit in the two chairs beside her bed. I grip her hand and glance at Claudia. I don’t know what to say or do. She must realize it so she starts rubbing Ireena’s arm. “Hey, Ireena. It’s Claudia and Devon. We’re here to reassure you about Dayshia. She’s with Kaeja right now, but Damion’s going to get her. Damion will be with her right where he should be, huh? He’s amazing with her. He’ll know how to tell her, but you already know that, huh? Anyway, Damion asked us to sit with you. Be with you. You understand how hard this all is. How sorry we all are.”
She was perfect. I could grab her and kiss her. I stare at her.
I clear my throat. “Yeah. Damion is taking care of Dayshia. She’ll grow up to have the best life. Forever. Know that. She’ll know who her mother is, too. I swear. She will.”