by Naomi Niles
“I can’t stay with him?” I practically shrieked.
She wasn’t happy with my attitude. “No, you may not,” she said in a schoolteacher’s voice. “This isn’t a visitor’s area and we have patients to see to. He needs rest right now and there’s nothing you can do.” She slapped the chart into the holder over his bed and stood long enough to enter information into the laptop that was mounted nearby. “Just five minutes,” she seconded her warning on her way out of the room.
I stood next to his bed, tracing an outline of a heart on the back of his tube-layered hand. “I love you, Dad,” I whispered. “They’re making me leave now, even though I want to stay. They don’t understand how it is with us. Just us, against the world,” I added.
I realized then that truthfully, Dad and I were all one another had. We needed each other. At that moment, I felt supreme regret for all the trouble I’d given him, the fibs and follies alike. He had done his best by me and all I’d ever done in return was defy his orders and sneak behind his back. What a miserable daughter I was.
I heard a voice clearing behind me and turned to see the same doctor poking her head around the curtain. I bent and kissed Dad on the cheek, patted his hand, and left the room. The hallway was a cacophony of beeping machines, crying people, bodily fluids, and moans. I felt my stomach protesting and wanted out as quickly as I could find an exit.
I found the ambulance bay and simply walked out the “in” doors, much to the dismay of the waiting trucks. “Use the proper entrance and exit,” one man barked at me and I ignored him. I was almost two blocks from the parking garage, but needed the fresh air, so I plodded along the snow-covered sidewalk, slipping and catching myself as I went. I texted Sean and told him where I was and it was only a couple of minutes later that I saw him walking toward me. I stumbled into his waiting arms and he held me, kissing the top of my head and warming me against the cold.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” his voice rumbled through his scarf and into my ear. “We’ll get through this.” He didn’t ask any questions – he didn’t need to. He knew pretty much how these things worked and I figured he had called the ER from the bus stop and knew his condition.
We walked, his arm around me, down the sidewalk as it began to snow in earnest. He flagged a cab; they were as plentiful as crows seeking carrion near ERs. He tucked me back into bed when we got home and climbed in beside me to keep me warm. I fell back asleep, but it was filled with nightmares of threatening shapes and colors. I slept poorly and when I awakened at mid-morning, I immediately called the hospital and was told that Dad was still in the ER.
I sat cross-legged on the bed, my phone lying on the sheet between my knees. Sean walked in and handed me a cup of tea and a tray with toast and jelly. “You need to eat,” he said wisely. “You’ll be going through a lot for the next few days and need to eat when you can.” I nodded and sipped the hot, flavorful tea.
“It’s good, thank you,” I murmured. It must have been the look on my face that brought his next question.
“What are they saying?”
“Nothing more than when I was there. He’s still waiting for a bed in the ICU – still lying there among people puking and bleeding and God knows if anyone is even paying attention to him.” I was outraged and sad.
“It’s the best they can do for now, sweetheart. That’s how those places are. I know you want to ride in on your white horse and straighten them all out, but believe me, people more powerful than you have tried it before but this is simply how it goes. Just try to conserve your strength and rest until there’s something more tangible you can do.” He was doing his best to console me in a difficult situation, and I knew this.
“Sean, I’ve been thinking. Dad and I talked on the phone before this happened. He told me he’s been seeing a woman.”
He chuckled. “Well, that’s good news, isn’t it?”
I shrugged, “Yes, I suppose so, but I’m wondering about her. He talked like they’d known one another for some time and she won’t be hearing from him and maybe become worried. I don’t have any family and it just feels like I want to find her and talk to her.”
“Do you think it’s wise to do that without his permission?” Sean asked, and I acknowledged his point.
“I know… it’s a sort of privacy invasion, but under the circumstances…” my voice trailed off.
“How will you even find her?” Sean asked, knowing from the tone of my voice that I’d already made my decision and there was no changing my mind.
“I can go by the house and see if I find anything. Maybe a phone bill?” I suggested.
Sean sighed. “Sometimes I’m not sure just how far you’ll go to get your way,” he observed.
“This isn’t about me. It’s about knowing what it felt like to have you hurt, and to worry about how you were. I couldn’t let anyone know I was worried, so no one thought to tell me anything. I can’t help but feel for this woman, whomever she is, and that she won’t know why Dad isn’t calling her or what happened.”
“Okay, okay… point well taken. It’s your dad, sweetheart. Just don’t bring my name into this.”
“No, I won’t. I get that much. This is all on the hush, hush.”
“I suppose you want me to go with you to his house?”
“Would you?”
“Why am I not surprised?” Sean smiled good-naturedly and I loved him in that moment even more than I had the minute before.
I checked with the hospital one more time before we left for dad’s house. I asked if there had been any other calls but the nurse was not very forthcoming with information. We got to Dad’s house and I let myself in with the key. Flipping on lights, I looked around briefly and saw Dad’s life, just as he had left it. There were breakfast dishes in the sink and mail had been pushed into the slot. It looked like just an ordinary day in his life. It made my heart ache.
The first place I checked was Dad’s desk. There were a few bills, some catalogs for hunting and fishing gear, and a firefighter’s magazine. Nothing there that spoke of a clue. I knew how to get into Dad’s desk; I’d done it many times as a teenager. I think he knew that I was getting into it and only used it to store the things that wouldn’t compromise his reputation if I found them. Using his letter opener, I managed to unlock the center drawer. Opening this unlocked the remaining drawers. I found his pistol in the bottom left-hand drawer and opened it to see that it was completely loaded. I carefully put it back and moved upward.
In the top left-hand drawer, I found bills that he had paid. There was indeed a bill from the phone company. I pulled it out and with some guilt in my heart, I began scanning the numbers for outgoing calls. Sure enough, there were several to the same number. I copied down that number and turned on Dad’s computer. Using a reverse search website, I found the number from the phone bill. The number was in the name of a Carla Rose. Her address was not far away and rather than call her on the phone, I opted to go by her house. When I mentioned this to Sean, he shook his head.
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, sweetheart,” he voiced.
“Why not?”
“What if it’s not as simple as that? What if there is a Mr. Rose? What if you have the wrong woman altogether?”
“I know, but it’s a chance I’ll have to take. I’ll handle it well, don’t worry.”
I quickly washed up the dirty dishes and we stacked the mail on the side table in the foyer. I also took a quick peek into the refrigerator so that I would know what to stock up on when dad came home from the hospital. Anything less was unthinkable.
Sean and I headed for Carla’s house; the cabbie seemed to know his way around. When we pulled up to the curb, I patted Sean’s hand and told him I would take care of this in my own way. I wanted as few witnesses to our being together as possible. I climbed out of the cab and went up to the door. It was a brownstone with neat shutters and flower boxes below each window. It appeared to be the sort of house that had been well cared for. I went up to th
e door, hesitated a moment, and bravely knocked.
I could see someone moving about as a shadow inside and soon the inner door slid open. A woman stood there, clutching her sweater closed against the cold that radiated through the storm door. “Yes? Can I help you?”
I wasn’t really sure how to begin. As it turned out, she helped me. “Hello. You don’t know me but—”
“You are Gwyne, aren’t you?”
“How did you know?”
“Warren talks about you all the time. I think I have seen your picture two dozen times and he’s always showing me the articles that you write. Your father is very proud of you.”
“Well, that makes this easier.” I wasn’t sure how to go on.
“Makes what easier?” she asked, clutching the sweater even more tightly and a frown crossing her face. “Would you like to come in?”
“Yes, perhaps I should. Only for a moment, though.”
Carla opened the door and stood back to allow me to pass through. She closed behind me and then motioned with their arm for me to go into the cozy living room next to her foyer. Her furniture was upholstered in a bright fabric, the overall effect being one of comfort and warmth. There was a small fire burning in her fireplace and classical music, Chopin, could be heard from the next room.
“Won’t you sit down?”
“I can only stay a moment. May I call you Carla?”
She nodded and motioned again for me to sit down. I sat gingerly on the end of the cushion, not wanting to give her the impression that I was staying.
“Carla, they found Dad on the floor of his office early this morning. He is in St. Mary’s Hospital in intensive care, or at least I hope they’ve gotten him into a room by now. He’s been in the ER all day long waiting for room.”
Carla’s hands flew up to cover her mouth; her eyebrows rose and there was a look of alarm on her face. “Is he okay?”
“I really don’t have any information other than that. The hospital is not very good about giving me info. I’m on my way there from here. Dad told me about having a lady in his life just a day ago. I knew if you didn’t hear from him that you would worry. I’ve been in those shoes and they are no fun. I went to Dad’s house and went through his papers until I found his phone bill and that’s how I got your name. I don’t mean to imply anything that may not be between Dad and yourself, but at least I wanted you to have the benefit of knowing how ill he is.”
“Have they said anything at all to give you an idea of whether he will be all right?” Her voice broke and I could see tears forming in her eyes. She was pretty lady with a sweet face and her demeanor was gentle and sincere.
“No,” I shook my head. “All they will tell me is that he has had a cardiac event. I’m going down there now and hopefully they’ve gotten their test results back and have begun some sort of treatment. When I left him, they had him intubated and sedated so he wouldn’t fight the tube. My dad is a strong man, Carla. If anyone can get through this, it’s him. He’s in excellent condition and has never had any heart issues before this.”
Carla nodded, reaching into her pocket for a tissue and dabbing her eyes. “Gwyne, I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you’ve come by. I’m not really sure whether I have the right to ask this, but I’d like to see him as well. Would you like company on your visit to him?”
I thought about this a few moments. “Carla, you appear to be a very nice lady and I know that Dad cares about you. That said, I’m not sure they’re allowing visitors who aren’t immediate family. Also, if Dad should come conscious and see you and I both standing together, it may give him a bit of a start and that’s probably not a good idea for a cardiac patient.”
“You’re right, of course. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that first.” She stood and held out her hand to me. “You are every bit as beautiful as your pictures, my dear. Your father is very proud of you. Make him proud now by being the strong daughter he knows you are. You have my number; please, please keep me informed, day or night.”
I nodded and smiled, squeezing her hand. I made way my way to the front door and turned before I opened it, saying, “If you pray, Carla, this would be a good time to get started.” I went out her door and hurried toward the cab were Sean was waiting.
A few minutes later, we were pulling into the parking garage of St. Mary’s hospital. I checked with the receptionist and learned that Dad had finally been transferred to an ICU bed on the sixth floor. Sean took a seat in the lobby on the main floor while I rode the elevator up to the sixth. I went directly to the nurses’ station and they pointed to a room just across the hall from where I stood. “You may only stay a few minutes,” they told me.
I crept with a timid fear into Dad’s room. I wasn’t sure what to be prepared for. Essentially, it looked identical to what I had seen in the emergency room. His eyes were closed and the tube was still in his mouth. He was unmoving and for powerful man like my father, that was really hard to take.
“Dad, it’s me, Gwyne. I’m here again. They won’t let me stay long, so if you can hear me underneath all that medicine, understand that I love you very much.”
A male nurse walked in to Dad’s room and checked his equipment. He was being fully monitored on a continual basis from the nurses’ station, but evidently a hands on examination was conducted regularly. “Can you tell me anything more?”
“Why don’t you have a seat in the family waiting room and I’ll ask the doctor to come and talk to you?” The nurse was far more polite than those in the ER. Perhaps it was because they were better trained here; perhaps it was simply because there were fewer patients to monitor. I nodded and did as he asked.
The doctor was not long. He introduced himself as Dr. Brewster and took a seat opposite me in the small waiting room. It was otherwise empty.
“Ms. O’Reilly, I’m Dr. Brewster, your father’s cardiologist. It appears that your father has suffered a cardiac event and our scans revealed the need to go in with an IV of contrast, looking for blockages. Sure enough, your father will require a quintuple bypass.”
I drew in my breath at the severity of the pronouncement. “Will he make it?” I was blunt in my questioning.
“There are no guarantees, of course. I wish I could tell you otherwise, but I would be lying. I can tell you that we have a very fine surgical department here at St. Mary’s and he couldn’t be in better hands. I want to give him another eight hours of rest and monitoring and then we plan for surgery at 7 AM. You will want to stop by the pre-surgical department downstairs and complete some paperwork. Did you have any questions?”
“Questions? Only a million of them. But, I’m fairly sure that you would’ve answered them by now, if you were able to. I will be here when he undergoes surgery in the morning. Will he be returned to the ICU?”
“When he leaves surgery, he will go to postop first and then be brought back here to the ICU most likely. They have the monitoring equipment needed to keep an eye on his progress. Hopefully, if all goes well, he will be in a private room within two to three days, and after that, we’ll have to talk about physical therapy and home care. Ms. O’Reilly, do you have any other family members who could help you care for your father?”
I shook my head. “No, there’s only me.”
“In that case, I may recommend that he go to a physical therapy unit that is attached to the hospital. They will be able to provide around the clock care, and will assist him when it comes time to get out of the bed and to begin walking. He will need to go through extensive physical therapy; just because we unblock the arteries doesn’t mean that they won’t plug up again. He will need to be gradually escalated in terms of the duration and challenge of the therapy. I predict, if all goes well with the surgery in the morning, that in six month’s time, he will be feeling pretty much himself again. Remember, Ms. O’Reilly, there are no guarantees. Sometimes God has a different plan than we do.”
“Can you bring him out of the sedation so that I can talk to him before surge
ry?”
Dr. Brewster shook his head. “No, it wouldn’t be a good idea. He’s been through a great deal of stress so far and it’s better that we leave him in a resting state. I would say he has a better than 75% chance and you should soon be able to talk to him after the surgery.”
I nodded. Dr. Brewster stood up and left the room. As the door clicked shut behind him, I felt my strength beginning to wane a bit and wanted Sean’s arms around me. I followed the doctor out and took one last look at dad in his bed. I recognized that it might be the last time I ever saw him alive. It was more than I could stand to think of. I went over and kissed him on the cheek and then quickly left before I began to cry. O’Reillys were not permitted to cry, especially in front of my dad.
Sean was waiting for me, as expected, downstairs in the waiting area. “Would you like to stop in the hospital café and have a cup of coffee?” he asked me.
I shook my head. “No, this is not the sort of place I want to hang out. Please, can we go somewhere else and get a bite to eat? I’m starving.”
“Of course.”
We called the cab and headed to a small diner that wasn’t far from my firehouse. Sean ordered us a cup of coffee and cheeseburgers with fries. My eyebrows went up at the unhealthiness of his order, but I said nothing. It sounded awfully good. Pulling my phone from my purse, I called Carla and she answered on the first ring.
“Carla, it’s Gwyne. He’s okay for the time being. They’re going to do surgery at 7 AM. He needs a quintuple bypass.”
“I’d like to be there with you, even if only in the waiting room, Gwyne.”
“I think I would like that, too,” I told her and briefly gave her instructions for where to find me.
Sean, overhearing my conversation, took a bite of his burger and said, “It sounds as though the two of you have become friends.”
“I don’t know about friends,” I said. “She seems to be a really nice lady and I’d like to get to know her better. I know how helpless she would feel being left out of this tomorrow morning. The least I can do is let her sit with me. I don’t want dad to know that we’ve met quite yet. That might give him a bit of a shock.”