Top Down Day

by Nicole Overby

  I want to cry as I watch the embarrassment rise across his face. He’s sorry? He’s sorry!? Is he kidding me! I’m sorry! I’m sorry he is in this much pain. I’m sorry I left this morning. I’m sorry these nurses don’t seem to think this is an emergency!

  “HEEELP!” I cry out.

  Nurses come circling in to clean up the mess along with a doctor. The nurses assure me he is next in line for the CT scan. The doctor explains that the CT scan will give them a clearer picture of where the blood is coming from in his body. He rambles on about how once they figure this out, it will be a relatively easy procedure to stop the bleeding. I remember my coworker once told me her mother had been admitted to the hospital for blood in her stool. Once they found the source of the bleeding, it was only a matter of an hour before it stopped. Her mother fully recovered and returned back to her normal life in less than a week. This thought gives me hope, and I cling onto it.

  Once the mess is cleaned up, everyone leaves and we’re back to where we started. Waiting for this miraculous scan to tell us what needs to be done to get him feeling better.

  I grab my phone and send a quick text to Kristen. “hi sweetie. sorry i missed your call. call on your way home xoxo.” I can’t tell her. Not yet.

  I decide to go check with the nurses to see exactly how much longer until the CT scan. The walls all look the same in the emergency room. It never makes sense to me why hospitals have to look so white, so cold. As I’m turning the corner, I hear a nurse dressed in darker scrubs yell out, “Code Blue!” A breeze of air brushes pass me as the nurses change direction and sprint past me. I make a mental note to say a prayer for the code blue patient after I get an update on the wait time. “Room 2B” the lead nurse yells again. Room 2B. I couldn’t have heard that right.

  Everything goes fuzzy and the ringing in my ears is slowly coming back. Where is this noise coming from? Did they really say Room 2B?

  My feet are picking up speed but I can’t physically feel myself move. As nurses huddle around the room, I find myself being pushed to the outside, only able to peer through the window.

  One nurse calls out, “He’s seizing!”

  “Get the restraints,” answers a different nurse.

  Why are they restraining him? I look frantically at the screaming monitor; his blood pressure is dropping drastically. He must have thrown up again.

  “Corey, relax. We are trying to help you, Corey.”

  This nurse sounds so calm, so collected. She must have several years of experience, but she doesn’t look very old.

  “These are our friendship bracelets, Corey.”

  She keeps repeating his name like she’s known him for years. It makes each order more personal, more meaningful.

  “We put them on special patients, Corey.”

  Corey won’t buy any of this crap. Why is she talking to him like a three-year-old? I need to get in there! I need to stop this!

  “Stop!” I cry out as I push myself into the room.

  “Who is this?” the doctor yells out.

  “I’m his freaking wife!”

  “Listen ma’am, you either need to calm down, or get out of here.”

  Don’t tell me to leave. I’m his wife, damn it! I settle for a head nod since he seems adamant about me leaving if I don’t calm down.

  The young nurse turns towards me, with pleading eyes, asking, “Do you think you can try calming him down?”

  I don’t think anything is going to calm him down right now.

  “We need to restrain him so we can intubate him. The bleeding is interfering with his airway.”

  His airway? You can do this, Dawn. You need to do this.

  I shuffle between the crowd of nurses and toss my purse on the ground. I approach his bedside and reach for his shaky hands. I hope he can’t feel the shakiness in my hands or hear the fear in my voice.

  “Corey, can you hear me?”

  What am I expecting? Him to answer? My heart is racing and my lungs can’t get enough air.

  “Relax, Corey, please. I’m right here.”

  Tears start to fill my eyes. I’m not strong enough for this.

  “I’m right by your side, Corey, right here.”

  I’m not going anywhere.

  “The doctors are trying to help you feel better. We need your muscles to stop tensing up. We need you to relax.”

  We need to stick this damn tube down your throat. I glance over and I see the vitals slowly improve.

  “There you go, Corey. Great job.” I want to vomit as I say the last words. Great job; who am I kidding? This is terrible; I’m terrible. What did I miss this morning?

  “Mrs. Owen, we’re going to lightly sedate Corey to get him calmed down enough to safely slide the tube down his throat.”

  Sedate him?

  “Once we get him intubated, we will run the CT scan.”

  It’s about damn time this scan is happening!

  I nod my head, not knowing if I’m trying to signal my acceptance or my understanding. Do I even have a choice in all of this? In another uncomfortable chair, I take my place as I watch the nurses administer the sedation through his IV. Everyone is shuffling around the room, well-aware of their task; some in charge of sedation while others, the tube. An older nurse, I’d guess around late thirties, slowly tips Corey’s head back and that’s when I see it. It’s so small, so quiet. I imagine everyone else in the room misses it, too busy with their next step, but I don’t. I watch the smallest tear helplessly fall out of the corner of Corey’s eye and the sight of it is enough for me to lose my breath. My spine loses all strength and my chest falls to my knees. Does he know he’s in trouble? Using my lap, I push myself up and turn my head to the window. Each hand sealing my mouth shut, keeping the sobs tightly held in. The sun is shining, the trees bright green. I watched until I couldn’t watch anymore, Corey. I know I have to remain silent, remain calm or the doctor will kick me out of the room.

  A nurse in the corner interrupts my pain, possibly because she can tell I’m seconds from completely losing it. “We need you to go back to the waiting room while we bring him back for the scan.”

  Is this nurse out of her mind?! I’m being quiet, I’m staying calm-- why do I have to leave? I’m not going anywhere, not now. As I look over to face her, I can tell by her cold stare she isn’t changing her mind. Now my blood pressure is rising. I begin to play out the scenario if I put up a fight. I can’t waste any time, any of Corey’s time. We need to know where the bleeding is coming from.

  I snatch my purse and abruptly leave the room, but not without clearly stating, “You better be fast and I want an update immediately.”

  I grab my phone. I need to vent to someone, anyone. Natalie. As the rings go unanswered, I realize I haven’t told the kids we’re at the hospital. It all happened so fast, and Corey never wants to worry the kids. I know he did it out of protection, but now I feel stuck between my husband and my kids.

  When the call finally goes to voicemail, my phone dings with a text in our family group message. Do I tell the kids, or do I keep the privacy wishes of my husband?

  Damn it, Corey. I wish I could talk to you. I can’t do this alone.

  |12:08 PM|

  Thomas

  “We will begin our boarding process momentarily.”

  I reach for my phone and send out a quick text to the family group message. “Boarding. I will try to make dinner tonight. Love you.” I double-check I have the next 3 episodes of Dexter downloaded before turning my phone to airplane mode.

  “At this time, we would like to welcome all MileagePlus Premier members.”

  |1:07 PM|

  Natalie

  As I put away the last folded tablecloth, I feel a sense of relief creep over me. I suddenly feel as if I can breathe in a full gasp of air again. I have officially finished the last event for my graduate assistantship.

  It’s not as if I don’t appreciate the position, because I definitely do. I mean it’s helping me pay for my M.B.A after all,
but I’m not sure I was cut out to be an event coordinator. Or at least not a university event coordinator. Maybe if I was a glamorous event coordinator where I nonchalantly meet Ryan Gosling I could handle the stress of the job, but simply organizing open houses for unamused teenagers is not for me.

  I deserve a gin and tonic. Or seven.

  As I start to self-indulge in my imagined celebration, I realize I need to call Brandon. He had baseball practice this afternoon, but we had plans to meet up before I head to a conference in Pittsburgh for the weekend. Three missed calls and two awaiting text messages follow the Apple logo on the screen. I forgot my mom called right before the event this morning. She didn’t leave a voicemail, which she usually does if it’s urgent. I crack a smile as I begin to wonder if she was calling about last night’s recap of American Idol or about someone she ran into at the grocery store. I’ll call her back after I call Brandon.

  “Hey, babe! How was your event?”

  “Eh, it was fine. Some hiccups, but whatcha gonna do! I was wondering if we were still on for Voodoo?”

  “For sure. I have to put away some equipment, but I should be leaving in about 15.”

  “Great! See you then. Love you.”

  “Love you always.”

  He always ends the call that way, even after five years. Yet, I still feel the heat rush through my body every time I hear him proudly say, ‘always.’

  I throw my phone in my purse and rush to my car. I’ll call my mom in the car so it can connect to Bluetooth.

  Dawn

  Sitting in the extremely stiff chair in the waiting room, my tailbone begins to send excruciating pain signals to my brain. I glance over at the surrounding families in the room. Are they as uncomfortable as I am, or are they ignoring how unbelievably hard these chairs are? I begin to imagine stories for all of the other red-eyed people around me. It helps distract me from reality. How ridiculous that if the patient, your own husband, is in the ICU you can’t go in unless granted access. They changed his room after the severity of the coding and are now preparing him for the scan.

  I walk to the call system and ring the nurses again.

  “Hi, yes this is Dawn again. Can I come in yet?”

  The nurse’s initial sigh doesn’t go unheard before she continues to say, “As stated fifteen minutes ago, we will personally come notify you when you are granted permission to enter the room.”

  “This is bullshit.” I grumble under my breath as I walk back to the stiff chair.

  We have been at the hospital for almost four and a half hours now. Even though it’s only the afternoon, my body is convinced it’s eleven o’clock at night. This backbreaking chair won’t allow me to doze off anyway so I have nothing to worry about. Just as I begin adjusting my position for the nine hundredth time, my phone vibrates.

  Natalie’s goofy face appears on the screen. A smile folds onto my face when I see her. She hasn’t been home in so long, and man did I miss her. We were so proud of her when she decided to continue her education. In all of the excitement, we forgot to realize how little time she would have to come home during her studies in Erie.

  My throat tightens as the realization hits my brain. “Shit-- the kids!” I don’t know if I said it out loud but several heads turn to face me. I whisper, “I’m sorry” to the other families in the waiting room as I walk down the hall near the elevators.

  “Natalie.”

  I can’t tell if my voice gives me away. Damn it, Dawn; keep it together.

  “Hey Mom, sorry I missed your call. I had an open house today. I’m so exhausted, but I’m going to meet Brandon for a celebratory drink before I head to the city. I told you I have the Women in Business conference this weekend, right? So I’ll head there after I see Brandon.”

  I must not have sounded as tired or nervous or scared or every other emotion I’m feeling as I listen to her go on and on.

  “Mom? You there?”

  “Yes, sorry sweetie.”

  I know I should tell her how excited we are that she is one step closer to finally moving down to North Carolina. We should be laughing about how some mother at the open house asked how late the library stays open while her child cringed with embarrassment. I should be telling her to go and enjoy herself with Brandon and celebrate the end of event coordinating. My brain keeps going crazy with what I should say next, but my mouth won’t utter a word.

  “Are you okay, Mom? Why are you being so quiet?” Natalie says with a light, accompanying laugh.

  “Yes, of course!” I reply with a little too much reassurance.

  “Are you sure?” Her voice sounds a little less sure.

  I hear the Bluetooth disconnect. Her voice is closer and louder on the phone. I know this means she’s arrived at her destination. She’s minutes away from celebrating with Brandon.

  This is my last chance to tell her.

  I can hear Corey telling me, as he has said so many times before, “It’s nothing serious, Dawn. We shouldn’t involve the kids yet; they have enough on their plates.”

  “Natalie…” I ask, making sure she was still there after the silence from my long internal debate.

  “Yeah, what’s up?” she asks as I listen to the wind hitting the phone speaker, making her words muffled now.

  “Dad’s been admitted to the hospital; nothing too serious.”

  Am I trying to convince her or myself?

  “He called me explaining he threw up some blood this morning; nothing too serious.”

  Stop saying nothing too serious!

  “We wanted to get it checked out just to stay on top of things; nothing too serious.”

  Damn it! My eyes rolling at myself.

  “But I just wanted you to know in case you couldn’t reach me. Please don’t tell Kristen or Thomas until we know more.”

  Why am I rambling on right now, not letting her get a word in? My brain’s throwing out any words it can think of.

  I’m waiting for Natalie to digest the information. She’s always been my confidant so I know she wouldn’t be tempted to tell others before I did.

  “Is it serious? Don’t bullshit me,” she said coldly. So cold, it almost feels like a jab, as if she’s insulted I didn’t call her earlier. She surely hadn’t forgotten I had tried calling her hours ago and she didn’t answer.

  “I’m, I’m really not sure,” is all I can manage to say as I remember watching his body seize and his eyes roll back. I close my eyes tightly, trying to erase the image.

  “Should I book a flight home?”

  “No, no, no.”

  My head shaking at the thought.

  “The doctors said once we find the source it will be fixable. I’ll keep you updated.”

  “How much blood?”

  Each question makes my heart beat faster. Do I even know for sure?

  “Oh, nothing serious.”

  The words vomit out.

  “Mom, stop. Please. How much blood?”

  I see the nurse in the dark scrubs come out of the door from the corner of my eye. I know she’s looking for me.

  “Natalie, I will keep you updated. I have to go. I think they’re coming to do the CT scan.”

  I make sure to emphasize before I hang up, “Don’t tell your siblings, Natalie. It’s nothing serious.”

  I really have to work on that.

  - TWO -

  |3:00 PM|

  Thomas

  I’ve always loved the initial feeling of the wheels touching the ground again. How remarkable flying truly is-- it brings together hundreds of people all going to the same place, yet for different purposes.

  I turn my phone back to cellular and notice no responses to my text. Come on, not one? Not even a “liked” message? I still send a follow-up text notifying them of my arrival, even though it’s obvious no one seems interested in my travel updates.

  “Did you know people rush to the front of the aircraft because there’s a prize for the first person to get to baggage claim to wait for their luggage?”
I continue my comedy set in my head as I watch impatient flyers overcrowd the front of the plane. “Deboarding a plane is tricky when every flyer is the most important passenger and deserves to get off first.” I test out the two lines in my head.

  My stomach begins to rumble. I wonder what Mom’s cooking for dinner; I imagine something good since Kristen’s coming home for the weekend.

  Natalie

  How is this happening to me? To my mom? To my family? And half of them don’t even know it’s going on.

  I watch others enter Voodoo as I wait by the door. I know Brandon’s waiting inside for me, probably with a beer already half drunk. Why didn’t I want to go inside? He’ll make me feel better; help me think it through. Stop my brain from wandering down a dark path.

  The smell of food trucks and grease hit me as I enter the restaurant. Now I remember why I love this place so much-- cheap drinks and shitty food. Not shitty tasting food, but the shitty food where you savor every piece of a fully loaded gyro, but fifteen minutes after devouring it every ounce of your body hates you. I scanned the room for Brandon. There he is. His eyes meet mine and his smile warms my cheeks.

  As I approach the table, I notice his half drank beer. I laugh to myself. At least he didn’t order food without me.

  “Hello beautiful,” I hear him say.

  “Why, hello there.” I whisper as I lean in for a kiss.

  “Sorry I didn’t wait. The beer looked too refreshing to hold off.”

  I give him a smile as I watch him sip his beer. He reminds me of those quirky actors on beer commercials explaining how refreshing the brew is. Brandon is so dorky, but I love him, with everything I have.

  I almost forgot about my mom’s phone call as I look at him, but soon reality sets back in. How could I have forgotten? How awful of a daughter does that make me?

  “So my mom called…” I start off as I slip into my seat.