by Alicia Rae
“Okay, we’ll be right there,” she replied before ending the call.
As soon as Gail clicked the button, she scrambled up from the bed. “We have to go!”
She ran into her room, and by all the ruckus, I assumed she was throwing on some clothes. I jumped to my feet and got dressed in seconds. I had no idea where we were going, but I knew that I had to go. I would not leave her in a time of need. After grabbing my truck keys, I started to head toward her room. We met at the junction of our bedroom doors. Together, we moved toward the front door.
“Wait!” Her head whipped back and forth. “Where is my purse? I might need my ID or money or something.” She began crying.
“Sweetheart, you just need you,” I said, trying to soothe her with my hand on her arm. “I got the rest.”
She nodded, and her big brown eyes peered up at me. They were filled with worry and shock. “It’s Caroline,” she whispered, brokenhearted.
I wanted to know every detail, but right now, I needed to get Gail to her family. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” I kissed her once, hoping to lend her my strength, while inwardly praying her sister was going to be all right. “The sooner we get there, the faster you can see her, and we’ll find out what’s going on.”
“Okay,” she breathed and wiped her tears.
I gently guided her out the door and led her to my truck.
I followed her directions to the local hospital. Once we neared, all of the Emergency signs led me to the east side of the building. We exited the truck and raced inside the building only to come to a stop at the front desk.
“I’m looking for Caroline Bennett,” Gail said to the receptionist.
“And you are?” the lady asked, glancing between Gail and the computer screen as she began typing.
“I’m her sister, Gail Bennett.” She nervously folded her hands together. “Is my sister okay?”
“I’m so sorry, ma’am. I can’t give you any information about her condition,” she informed in an apologetic tone and gestured to the right. “But the waiting room is around that corner. The attending doctor or nurse will be out to give you and your family an update as soon as possible.”
Gail’s shoulders sagged. “Okay,” she sighed sadly. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” the lady replied.
I put my arm around Gail’s shoulder and led the way to the waiting room. When we rounded the corner, Kathy and David rose from their chairs. Kathy was in a floral apron as though she had just come from work. Her face was pink and swollen from crying. David looked to be in work clothes, too, and his expression was equally as grave.
“Mom, Dad,” Gail said.
We all exchanged hugs and hellos.
Gail stepped back and glanced between the two of them. “Have you guys heard anything yet?” she asked apprehensively.
I tucked Gail tightly into my side, bracing her and myself for whatever they were about to say.
“Not much. All we know is that Caroline had a seizure at her school. She was standing at the top of the stairs when it happened. Sh—” Kathy broke off on a cry, shaking her head. “She fell all the way to the bottom.”
David put his arms around his wife, his own tears running down his cheeks. He cleared his throat. “The doctor told us that they will do whatever is necessary to save her life during the surgery Caroline is undergoing. Then, he ran off through the double doors.” He shook his head. “I don’t even know what they meant by that, but it sounds just awful.”
I held Gail as she nearly collapsed in my arms. I turned her face, and she buried it against my shoulder. I backed up, still holding her, and sat on the bench behind me, pulling Gail into my lap. She clung to me as she quietly wept against my chest. I wiped my own eyes as my heart ached for Caroline and what she must be enduring. I prayed that she was going to pull through this and stay here with her family, who loved her so completely.
Hours upon hours passed, and we waited. Each of us stared off into space, at one another, at other people coming and going, and at the clock, which was moving unbearably slow.
Finally, a doctor and nurse walked into the room, both dressed in blue scrubs. The four of us leaped up from our chairs as the medical professionals approached us.
“Mr. and Mrs. Bennett?” the doctor asked.
“Yes,” Kathy answered. “We are Caroline’s parents.”
“I am Dr. Heathman, and this is Shelly, the registered nurse attending to Caroline,” the man said.
Kathy and David nodded.
He continued, “Caroline is out of surgery. She will be moved to the ICU within a few hours as long as she remains stable. Caroline suffered severe head trauma, resulting in a major concussion and a deep laceration at the back of the head near the occipital lobe.” He lifted his hand to show the area he was talking about. “We were able to close the wound with four staples.”
Kathy gasped, and the doctor gave her a moment before he continued.
“Caroline broke her femur”—he pointed to his thigh—“which is the largest bone in the body. It will require major physical therapy down the road. She also has three broken ribs that will heal on their own.”
“Will our baby girl be okay?” Kathy croaked unevenly.
“It’s too early to say, Mrs. Bennett,” the doctor answered regretfully. “As of now, the most important factor is that Caroline is stable. The extent of her concussion and any resulting damage will not be known until her scheduled MRI first thing tomorrow morning.”
“When can we see her?” David asked.
“She’ll be in a recovery room for at least another few hours. As long as her vitals stay stabilized, she will move up to the ICU floor. At that time, the nurse will come back and take you all to see her.” The doctor glanced at us with sympathy in his eyes. “I wish I could give you more reassuring news, but the next twenty-four hours are critical for Caroline. Shelly or I will keep you updated on any changes that might occur through the night.”
Kathy nodded her head in acknowledgment. “Thank you for taking care of our little girl, Dr. Heathman.”
“Of course,” he responded. “Please, if you have any questions, feel free to ask me or the nurse,” he added before politely dismissing himself.
Once again, the four of us took our seats, and we began round two of the dreadful waiting game.
I left for a short time to grab club sandwiches and waters from the cafeteria on the lower level of the hospital. None of us ate more than a few bites as our anxieties ran high.
By nine o’clock, the same nurse, Shelly, returned, and we all greeted her.
“Mr. and Mrs. Bennett,” she addressed them softly, “Caroline is still stable, and she has now been moved to the ICU. If you will all come with me, you can see her two at a time.”
Kathy glanced over at Gail.
“You and Dad go ahead first,” Gail said reassuringly. “Damon and I will go in after you two.”
“All right.” Her mom nodded.
David, Kathy, Gail, and I all followed the nurse to the ICU floor. Once we exited the elevator, I noticed the long corridor was lined with room after room, all of which had glass doors and only a small curtain attached to the left side of the room. Kathy and David continued onward, following Shelly into a room, and Gail and I watched as Dr. Heathman went in after them. Then, we headed to the new waiting room.
Twenty minutes later, the doctor, nurse, Kathy, and David exited the room. Gail’s parents walked over to Gail and me.
“The doctor said Caroline’s vitals are still good, but she has not woken up yet,” Kathy said with a gloomy expression. “He said all we can do is wait.”
Gail went over to her mom and hugged her. “Mom,” she started softly, drawing back, “that is Caroline’s body and mind protecting itself from the trauma. Don’t worry. She’ll wake up when she’s ready.”
Inwardly, I smiled. I was proud of how strong my girl was being for her family when I knew she was trying her best to cope, too.
“
Yes, yes, you’re right.” Kathy let out a deep breath and confidently added, “Our Caroline is a fighter.”
“She is,” Gail agreed with a smile. It was small, but it was there.
“Go on in, honey.” Kathy patted her daughter’s shoulder. “We’ll be out here.”
Gail nodded her head in agreement. Then, she turned to look at me, and I took her hand in mine. I rubbed it as we approached Caroline’s room. Gail let out a soft cry as her sister came into sight. I gave her hand a slight squeeze, and then I followed behind her as we moved toward Caroline’s bedside.
Caroline’s left leg was in a considerably sized cast. It was braced in a sling that elevated her leg, keeping it immobilized. Her right forearm had a massive purple-and-black bruise. Large white gauze was wrapped around her head. Monitors beeped around us. Cords were peeking out from underneath Caroline’s clothing, and they were connected to machines around the room.
Gail dropped her hand on the bed and ran it up the mattress as we advanced, but she was cautious not to touch her sister’s fragile body.
“Oh, Caroline,” she whispered, bending over her sister’s bedside. She very lightly touched Caroline’s cheek. “I love you so much.”
I set my hand on Gail’s back, and I blinked back tears, knowing I needed to be strong for her.
We sat in chairs next to the bed as Gail talked to her sister, saying comforting words to her. While I held Gail’s hand, Gail held Caroline’s.
When it was time to go, Gail rose and said, “You take your time and rest well, my dear, sweet sister.” She stroked her fingertip down Caroline’s cheek, and then she kissed it. “But you come back to us, you hear? We love you.”
Gail and I walked toward the waiting room, and from the corner of my eye, I saw the doctor enter Caroline’s room. After returning to the waiting room, the four of us waited for the doctor to approach us. When he did, we learned he had no new updates. Caroline was still in the same condition. Everyone would have to wait patiently for the MRI of Caroline’s head in the morning.
Kathy and David told us they were staying the night in the hospital, and then they went back to sit by their daughter’s bedside.
Once Gail and I were alone again, she gazed up at me. Her eyes were heavy and tired, but perseverance shone brightly in them.
As if reading my mind, she shook her head and said, “I’m not leaving her.”
I looped my arms around her and drew her close. After a long day like today, I needed to feel her body against me even if only for a few seconds. “Of course you aren’t leaving, sweetheart. I expected nothing less,” I said in understanding. “Why don’t you take a seat? I’ll go down to the gift shop and see if they have some pillows or blankets, so you can try and catch a bit of shut-eye.”
“Thank you,” she responded, dropping her head against my shoulder. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
I kissed the top of her head and breathed in the familiar scent of her shampoo. It felt like my home—no, she was my home.
“And you never have to find out,” I replied with utmost sincerity, unable to hold back my feelings.
I was not going anywhere, except to the gift shop. Then, we were going to settle in for a long night.
I awoke to what sounded like shoes hitting the floor at a fast speed. I opened my eyes, and sure enough, Abbey was barreling straight for us with her short legs carrying her as fast as they could. Jason was keeping pace with her.
Gail stirred next to me, turned her head to see Abbey, and then faced me. Her eyes glistened with moisture, but she held her tears at bay. “Did you call Abbey?” she asked me.
“Yes, I thought you might want your friend here.”
She leaned forward and kissed me gently. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“You’re welcome,” I replied, taking her hand in mine.
We rose from our chairs and watched Abbey close the final distance between us. Abbey threw her arms around Gail, and they both hugged one another tightly.
“Oh my gosh, honey! I’m so sorry to hear about Caroline.” Abbey wept, drawing back. “Have you heard anything yet?” she asked.
“Not anything new yet.” Gail frowned and glanced at the clock. “The doctor informed us that they are going to keep Caroline sedated through this morning until after she has her MRI. They want to keep her comfortable and as still as possible to prevent further damage.”
Abbey was in tears as Gail spoke.
“Can I see her?” Abbey finally croaked out.
“Yes,” Gail answered. She turned to face me. “We’ll be back in a bit.” She took Abbey’s hand in hers before leading the way.
Jason stepped closer and gave me a brotherly hug. I tightened my grasp on him, needing his strength.
“Damon, I’m so sorry to hear about Caroline,” he said, patting my back.
Then, we both parted.
“How are you holding up?”
“Trying my best, man,” I replied.
We both took a seat, and I rubbed my temples that were beginning to throb. “It’s tough not knowing what to expect.” I shook my head. “It’s gutting me—seeing Gail and her family at such a devastating time and not knowing if that kid is going to be okay.”
“I can’t even imagine,” Jason responded. “Anything I can do to help?” he asked kindly.
“You can tell me everything is going to be all right.” But I knew he could not. This waiting game sucked.
“I wish I could, man.” Jason let out a troubled sigh. “But Caroline is a strong young girl. She’ll pull through.”
I recalled her smile that day at her family’s house. “Yeah, she is.”
Jason tilted his head at me. “Are you doing okay? I know how you feel about hospitals.”
“I’m getting by,” I said, not wanting my mind to wander back to the recollection of my family’s accident.
Kathy, David, Gail, and Abbey all returned, saving me from my brother’s inquisitive stare.
“They are taking Caroline for the MRI now,” Gail informed me, sitting to my left.
Gail called her boss, Greg, while we all waited. Abbey was talking on the phone to Kyle, telling him what had happened.
As I watched everyone around me, I was reminded how one instant could forever change a life, just like it had a few years ago. That was the last time I had been at a hospital.
I had been sitting at my place back in Colorado. I’d just about gone to bed because I had to be up exceptionally early the next day to travel for work. My mom, Lucie, had called me in tears, and she had been crying so hard that I could barely understand her. I’d only pulled out the part that my aunt and uncle and cousins, Annie and Lily, had been in a car accident. I’d rushed to the hospital, only to find out that my aunt, uncle, and Annie were gone, and they’d died on impact. Our only saving grace was that Lily had survived.
It was the hardest, most unfathomable thing I had ever endured in my life.
Jason suddenly patted my back. His expression matched my own as though he knew where my thoughts were. I turned my head and saw that a doctor was approaching us. I jumped to my feet along with everyone else.
“I’m Dr. Montecito, the attending neurologist,” he said, extending his hand for a round of handshakes.
“Any news?” Kathy asked, her voice full of concern.
“We have completed the MRI, and we confirmed that Caroline has a major concussion, also known as a brain trauma. The injury could also affect her short-term memory over the next several days, so she might not be able to recall the incident or previous conversations,” he explained. “However, don’t be alarmed. This is a normal process. Brain injury should heal on its own, and Caroline will most likely regain one hundred percent of her memory.”
We all breathed a sigh of relief.
The doctor continued, “Now that we know what to expect, the attending physician and I will start to reduce Caroline’s pain medication and gently ease her off the sedation medication. You’ll be able to talk with
your daughter by the end of the evening.”
“Oh, thank you, Dr. Montecito.” Kathy beamed and stepped forward to hug him.
“You’re most welcome,” he replied.
They resumed their former positions.
“I’ll be honest,” he added. “Your daughter has a long road to recovery, but her prognosis looks very good.”
“Thank you,” David chimed in, offering the doctor a handshake.
For the first time in over twenty-four hours, everyone had a smile on their faces, knowing Caroline was going to be okay.
Afterward, the doctor kindly excused himself just as Kyle and Lily arrived to show their support. We all exchanged greetings and introductions as it was the first time Kathy and David were meeting Kyle and Lily. To have my cousin, Lily, here meant the world to me.
By eight o’clock, Caroline was awake, and her parents went to visit with her first.
When it was Gail’s and my turn, I tried to keep up with Gail’s quick strides before she flew into the room. Caroline glanced our way and released a small smile.
“Caroline,” Gail breathed, her voice clogged with emotions. She walked over to her sister and hugged her as gently as possible. “Gosh, I missed you.”
“Me, too,” Caroline said in a soft voice.
Gail sat down in the chair next to her, scooted it forward, and took her sister’s hand. I sat in the chair adjacent to Gail’s.
“How are you feeling?” Gail questioned. “Can I get you anything?”
“Sit with me for a while?” Caroline asked.
“Of course.” Gail smiled lovingly at her sister.
“What happened?” her sister inquired.
Gail’s brows drew together, her expression grave. “You fell,” she said gently. “But don’t worry, sweetie. The doctor said you are going to be all right.”
Caroline looked lost in thought, and then she frowned. “I don’t remember falling.”
“The doctor said it is normal not to remember the incident.” Gail patted her sister’s hand. “But the good news is that your doctor said the memories will come back.”
“Oh,” Caroline murmured. She tilted her face toward Gail. “Sing to me?”