by Ann, Pamela
Two hours? I’ve been staring for two hours?
I nod to my mom. “Let me just say goodbye to Patricia and Hugh. Maybe they have news about Drake.”
Mom holds me with one arm as we walk the white halls of the hospital. The intercoms are paging doctors, the beeping sounds of machines surround us, the hushed whispers and the crying relatives are the ambient background noise to the symphony about sickness and death.
My feet feel heavy, but I make it to the elevator. When we get out, I notice a doctor speaking to a family in a hushed solemn manner. I halt when I hear the woman scream.
“Noooooooooo! No! No! There’s got to be a way. You have to save my son! He’s only seventeen.”
I stand frozen as her screams and pleas are all being hushed down by her surrounding family. The daunting voices inside my head start again.
God, that voicemail I left him . . . I feel sick just thinking about it. Tears fall freely on my face. Drake . . . I’m so sorry. I feel like I’ve let him down because of my own selfishness and holding on to the past, I have let us down and our baby.
What if it’s too late now? What if he doesn’t survive and dies on that operating table? My breathing becomes ragged as my thoughts move to picturing him on that table being cut open. His body pale and lifeless and there is nothing I can do to help him live.
Sobs rock through me as I sense my entire body start to feel weird and heavy. The last thing I remember is the airy light feel of my body falling before I black out.
Chapter 179
I groan and feel my mom soothing me. It takes a good minute to remember all the events that have happened. Drake.
“How’s Drake? Where is he?”
“He’s in the ICU, Dear. He’s still not in the clear and they still consider him in critical condition. The doctor said to wait a few days for everything to heal and see if the surgery worked.”
When I try to move my hand and my heavy lids finally open, I realize that I’m in a hospital bed with a hospital gown on. “Mom?” I look at her questioningly. “What happened?”
“You passed out. Thank God I caught you before you hit your head on the floor. The doctor said that this sometimes happens when pregnant women are stressed out. You should stay put until the doctor says it’s okay for you to be discharged.” Mom looks at me worriedly, misty-eyed.
“Sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to scare you.” The last thing my mom needs right now is to worry about my pregnant state as well. All of us are going through so much; I can’t afford to have the rest of them worry about me when Drake’s life is still on the line.
Even though it kills me to resign and rest, instead of going upstairs to be with Drake, I force myself to stay put. For Drake and the baby; I can do it for them.