by Ruth Reid
“Nay, just kaffi. Are you sure you’re allrecht, Caleb? You’re limping.”
“I’m fine.” He wasn’t going to tell her about falling off the horse or having to dive under the fence rail to avoid being trampled. Doing so would only add unnecessary stress to the situation. She didn’t need to concern herself with him. Not when his father had come close to dying.
He lumbered out of the room, his entire right side throbbing with each step he took. Caleb pressed the button on the elevator, his thoughts flying a million directions. He needed to make arrangements for someone to tend to the livestock, but more importantly, he needed to get word to Jonica about why he never showed up. He’d ask the person at the information desk in the lobby where a pay phone was located and call Beverly, their Englisch driver, to deliver the messages.
The elevator door opened, and without lifting his head Caleb stepped forward.
A faint scent of tea tree oil caught his attention at the same time a male voice asked, “Going up?”
Realizing he was about to get into the wrong elevator, Caleb looked up. Jonica stood in the corner with her head down. “Jonica,” he said, catching the closing door with his arm. He entered the elevator car. “What are you doing—?” He noticed Stephen lying on the stretcher, and every hair on his arms stood up. “What happened?”
“Stephen’s nose started bleeding,” she whispered, then glanced at her sleeping son. “He’s being admitted. The doktah doesn’t know . . .” Her voice trailed off.
Caleb wanted to pull her into his arms but restrained the urge. Her sagged shoulders and red-rimmed eyes tugged at his heart. She had to be disappointed with him. Stephen had another bleed and he hadn’t been there. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when it happened. Is there anything I can do nau?”
She shook her head.
The elevator stopped on the fourth floor and he exited with Jonica and the man pushing Stephen’s stretcher. She seemed indifferent to Caleb tagging along. He understood. She’d needed him and he’d let her down.
A ponytailed nurse followed them into the room. “Hi, I’m Massy. I’ll be Stephen’s nurse today.”
Stephen opened his eyes briefly as the nurse and transporter moved him from the stretcher to the bed, but he closed his eyes again before Caleb had a chance to greet him. He studied the boy; his washed-out complexion gave him a gaunt appearance.
“He’s still sleepy,” Jonica explained.
Caleb nodded, though he feared Jonica was either in denial or trying to make light of something much more serious. The blood loss had to have been greater than when he cut his hand. Otherwise, why would he be admitted to the hospital? The bleeding had stopped. At least, the nose bandage wasn’t blood soaked. Jonica’s solemnness worried him more than if she’d been pacing or crying or panic stricken. She didn’t even appear on the verge of tears.
“Can you tell me why Stephen is being admitted?” the nurse asked.
“His nose wouldn’t stop bleeding,” Jonica said. “The doktah wants to keep him overnight. He said something about giving him blood and Stephen might need more, depending on his labs. I don’t remember everything the doktah said.”
Her doleful tone meant fatigue had set in. Caleb leaned closer to Jonica and lowered his voice. “Are you doing okay?” Stupid question. Of course she wasn’t okay. Her son was in the hospital.
“Jah,” she said, but her forlorn gaze at her sleeping son suggested otherwise.
The nurse continued to question Jonica, asking about Stephen’s past medical history, until her pager buzzed, summoning her out of the room.
Silence hung between Jonica and Caleb several seconds too long for him. He cleared his throat. “Did Stephen fall or bump his nose on something that started the bleeding?”
She shook her head. “He sneezed.”
“Sneezed?”
Jonica moved over to the window and wrapped her arms in a self-hug as she stared outside at the parking lot.
Caleb came up beside her and placed his hand on her back. Her body tensed, yet she didn’t attempt to move. “I know nett knowing what’s going on with Stephen is difficult, and seeing him in the hospital bed is painful.”
“I waited for you.”
“I’m sorry, Jonica. Please, forgive me. If I could change what happened to Stephen . . . or this morning’s events—”
“You can’t.”
His throat dried.
“Neither can I,” she muttered.
He pressed his hand on her back a little harder and she turned into his arms. Holding her close as she cried, he wished he could wipe every tear away. Lord, please have mercy on Jonica. Heal her sohn. Give him a long, fulfilled life. Lord, show me how I can help.
After a long moment, Jonica pushed back from his embrace and wiped her face with her hands. “I can’t keep doing this.”
“Doing what?”
“Falling to pieces. I can’t keep . . .” She made a hand gesture at Caleb. “Doing that—I have to be strong.”
“Doing that as in, letting someone comfort you?”
“You, Caleb. I can’t let you comfort me.”
Her words punched him in the stomach. He wanted to be the one she leaned on, someone she could depend on. Caleb noticed a box of tissues on the bedside stand and lumbered across the room to retrieve it. “You don’t have to go through this alone.” He offered her the box. “I care . . . deeply for you—and Stephen.”
She plucked a tissue from the box and used it to dab her eyes. “Why are you limping?”
What? Was she really asking about his leg when he’d just poured out his heart? He exhaled his pent-up breath. She didn’t want his comfort. Didn’t want to know he cared—deeply. Why did he admit that? Obviously she didn’t feel the same.
“Did you do something to your leg this morning?”
“It’s nothing. I got pinned by a steer.” He needed some distance, a few minutes to think, to regroup. Jonica had set new boundaries, or reestablished ones that had been there all along and he’d ignored.
“There’s a man in Cedar Ridge who wants to marry me.” Recalling what she had said in the doctor’s office, he took a step backward. He would respect her wishes. “I, um.” He motioned to the door. “I should check on mei daed. He had a heart attack earlier.”
“Ach! I didn’t know.” Jonica’s forehead wrinkled with concern. “How is he doing?”
“The doktah said it was mild.” He shrugged. “He was still sedated when I left his intensive care unit. I was on mei way to find a pay phone to call Beverly. I need to get word to Bishop Zook and make arrangements for the horses and livestock to be fed and watered.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I also wanted Beverly to stop at Edna’s so you would know what happened. I thought maybe she could take you and Stephen into town if you hadn’t gone already.”
She lowered her head. “I was too anxious to wait.”
“And it’s gut you didn’t. Otherwise, Stephen—” Caleb couldn’t say out loud what they both had to be thinking. Stephen might have bled out.
“I’m glad we ran into each other,” she said. “But you should be with your daed. He might wake up and need you.”
Caleb nodded, though he’d come to accept that his father would never need him. On the off chance that he did, his father would be too stubborn to admit it. More importantly, did Jonica need him?
Chapter 24
Caleb had only been gone a few minutes and Jonica already felt his absence. She sank into the chair next to Stephen’s bed. The limited amount of window light cast long shadows in the room, but she didn’t want to turn on the overhead light for fear of disturbing Stephen. He needed rest.
She leaned her head back against the cushion and closed her eyes. But she couldn’t sleep with Caleb’s words replaying in her mind.
“You don’t have to go through this alone . . . I care deeply . . .”
Jonica didn’t dare admit how much she’d come to care for Caleb or how dependent she’d become on his support. His wisdom. Hi
s kind nature. Not only toward her. Caleb treated Stephen good. Better than good. He treated Stephen as his own.
She should have noticed him limping sooner. When he’d gotten on the elevator or while walking beside him down the hall. She’d been too self-absorbed in her own problems. He’d pushed the injury off as though he was fine, but was he?
Light from the hallway entered the room as the door opened. Jonica shot up from the chair when someone flipped on the overhead light. It took a half second for her eyes to adjust, but when they did, she saw that a tall, thinly built man with a close-shaved, salt-and-pepper beard had entered the room.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Yarbrough.” The man extended his hand. “Are you Stephen’s mother?”
“Jah.” She shook his hand. “I’m Jonica Muller.”
“Mamm?” Stephen woke up, startled.
“I’m right here, sweetie.” She went to the head of the bed and reached for his hand.
“You must be Stephen.” The doctor approached the other side of the bed. “I’m Dr. Yarbrough. How are you feeling?”
Stephen squinted, then rubbed his eyes.
“I just want to take a look at you. It will only take a few minutes, and I promise it won’t hurt.”
Stephen rolled Jonica’s direction and lifted his arms. “Mamm!”
“I’ll be right here. I’m nett leaving.” Jonica held Stephen’s hand, then nodded at the doctor.
Dr. Yarbrough removed his stethoscope from around his neck, inserted the earpieces, then listened to Stephen’s heart, lungs, and abdomen, then he tapped his fingers over several places just below his rib cage on his right side.
“How is he?”
“His heart and lungs sound normal. His liver doesn’t appear to be enlarged.” Dr. Yarbrough replaced Stephen’s bedcovers. “You did well, Stephen. Thank you.”
“Welkum.”
“Now, I would like to talk with your mother a few minutes in the hall.”
Stephen’s eyes widened. “Mamm, don’t leave me.”
“I won’t be long.” Jonica kept her voice as even as possible to hide the fear setting up camp within her.
“Promise?”
“Jah, I promise.” She kissed his forehead, then followed Dr. Yarbrough out the door. “How bad is he?”
The doctor pointed to a small alcove of chairs in a waiting area. “Maybe you should sit down.”
Jonica had waited days to find out what was wrong with her son, and now, studying the doctor’s long face, his subdued manner, something told her she didn’t want to hear the news. She eased into the chair and folded her hands on her lap.
“Stephen has an abnormal bleeding condition called von Willebrand disease. It’s a clotting disorder. That’s why it took so long for his nose to stop bleeding and when he’d cut his hand.”
“What does that—?” She clutched her chest as sharpness seized her breath. “What does that mean? Is mei sohn going to—?”
“There is no cure for von Willebrand disease.”
Jonica shook her head. She was overly tired. Dreaming. This wasn’t happening . . . it couldn’t be happening. But even as her mind searched for reason not to believe, she could hear the doctor’s voice drone in the background, albeit, muffled. No wonder Dr. Yarbrough wanted her to sit down.
“I noted several bruises on his arms and legs. Based on the yellow-green coloration, they are old bruises, and I don’t believe they pose a threat . . .”
Dr. Yarbrough’s voice droned on, his words blending into the background of Jonica’s subconscious. Should she take Stephen to a different doctor? Someone who would run better tests, offer more hope? Someone who would . . . “It is the lord who goes before you. He will be with you; he will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed.”
Jonica buried her head in her hands. “Lord, I can’t lose mei sohn!”
Dr. Yarbrough stopped talking. “Having this disease doesn’t mean Stephen cannot live a full life.”
She sat up straighter. “It doesn’t?”
“Your son’s clotting disorder can be managed. He won’t be able to play contact sports like football or rugby. You’ll have to monitor him closely for bleeding, and he will need regular lab work to make sure his hemoglobin, hematocrit, and platelet counts are adequate. He might require occasional blood transfusions, and should he need surgery, special medicine will be needed to help him clot.”
“But Stephen will live. Is that what you’re telling me?”
Dr. Yarbrough nodded. “With close monitoring and ongoing care. You’ll need to make sure others involved with his care, such as babysitters, daycare workers, schoolteachers, are informed about his condition and know how to handle an emergency.”
Tears of joy streamed down her face. Thank You, Lord, for the mercy You’ve shown me. Danki, God.
“Since von Willebrand is a hereditary disease, you should have the other members of the family tested. Unless a major trauma occurs, it could go years undiagnosed. This condition doesn’t always present with symptoms. Stephen’s siblings are at risk.”
“Stephen is mei only child.” She brushed away more tears to clear her vision. “Can he go home?”
“I want to make sure he doesn’t start bleeding again. One of the dangers of losing too much blood is not having enough iron in your system. Iron carries oxygen, and low levels of oxygen can lead to numerous issues, including organ damage. I also want to run a few more tests that will measure how his clotting factors function in greater detail.”
“Do you think his organs have been damaged?”
“At this point nothing leads me to suspect any serious problems. As I already mentioned, his heart, lungs, and abdomen all sound normal. His liver doesn’t appear to be enlarged. I don’t believe we will find anything more conclusive by doing the additional tests, but the results will represent a baseline should we need a comparison at a later date. Something you’ll need to keep in mind and monitor regularly are bruises. It’s important they don’t go unchecked. Otherwise, he could hemorrhage internally, essentially bleed to death if his organs become damaged.” He paused. “Do you have any questions for me?”
Jonica shook her head, her throat too constricted to speak.
“If you think of anything, you can have the nurse page me. I’ll see you and Stephen again tomorrow.”
“Okay, thank you, Doktah.” Jonica sat in the alcove several minutes. She didn’t want Stephen to see that she’d been crying. She wanted to find a better time, when Stephen was fully awake, to talk about his condition. He would have to learn to be mindful in everything he did and report any signs of bruising.
But her son would live. “Danki, God. It is You who goes before me. You will be with me. Danki, Father, for your mercy.”
* * *
The entire time Caleb sat at his father’s bedside, his thoughts were on Jonica, alone with a sick child. But if he were sitting with Jonica, his mother would be alone. Caleb was torn.
Mamm patted Caleb’s leg with her hand. “You’re tapping again.”
He hadn’t been aware he’d been tapping his boot against the floor. “Sorry.” He stood, walked to the sink on the far wall, and splashed a handful of cold water on his face.
“Maybe you should go home and get some sleep,” Mamm said.
Sleep wouldn’t help. He needed to know how Stephen was doing. If Jonica had heard anything from the doctor yet.
“The doktah said your daed is going to be okay.”
“Jah, I know.” He sat back down. He debated on telling his mother about Stephen. She hadn’t been thrilled to learn he’d spent time with Jonica. But Stephen needed everyone’s prayers. “It isn’t just Daed I’m worried about. Stephen Muller is a patient in the pediatric unit.”
“Who?”
His mother knew very well who Stephen was. But since she was exhausted, he gave her the benefit of doubt. “Stephen is Jonica’s sohn. Jonica Muller.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“Jonica doesn’t know. His
nose started bleeding and—”
“She brought him to the hospital for a nosebleed?” Mamm made a tsk-tsk sound. “That will cost a pretty penny.”
“I don’t think she’s concerned about money when her sohn is lying in a hospital bed.” He’d never known his mother to be this inconsiderate.
“Peter used to have nosebleeds,” she said reflectively. “That’s why we had multiple pans of water on the woodstove. Steam helped.”
“That’s a gut suggestion. I’ll pass that information on for Jonica to try,” he said, grateful that, in her way, she was attempting to help.
“A mamm figures those things out. She also figures out how to stop bleeding. If I ran Peter to the doktah every time something happened . . . Well, she’s a . . . young mamm.”
Enough. Caleb stood again. “I’m going to get another cup of kaffi. Would you like me to bring you back some?”
“Are you really going for kaffi, or are you going to see . . . that maedel?”
“Both.” He wouldn’t hide his feelings any longer. “Jonica is alone. She needs me.”
His mother popped up from the chair like a kernel of heated corn. “I need you.” She clutched her chest. “Your daed is lying on that hospital bed with all sorts of tubes in him. Don’t you think your daed needs you to be here too?”
“Mamm, I’m praying. That’s all I can do—all either of us can do. I’ll bring you a cup of kaffi when I return.” Caleb stopped at the door. “I’ll also be praying that God places Stephen on your heart so you’ll start praying for him. We’re instructed to pray for others, and he’s sick.”
* * *
Jonica noticed Stephen’s smile widen before she noticed Caleb tiptoeing into the room, one hand behind his back.
“Caleb!” Stephen pushed the button on the bed remote and raised the head. “You came to see me.”
“I had to check on mei buddy.” He held up a stuffed dog he’d been hiding behind his back. “I think this hund is looking for a friend.”