by Claire Adams
“Did you have a good night? Other than the being exhausted part?”
“Yeah, it’s actually much more fun to work overnight. Everyone is sleeping. I could deal with so many more people if they would just stay sleeping while I worked,”
“Me, too!”
“Okay, well, we have new girl in room two. She’s puking all over the place. I finally just brought her a bucket because I was tired of cleaning up the floor when she couldn’t make it to her room. I have the doctor coming to see her in an hour because she really didn’t look well. She’ll need a little loving and attention today. Her husband dropped her off and said he would leave her if she didn’t complete the program. She’s been alternating between tears and vomit all night long.”
“Drug of choice?”
“Alcohol,” Kaitlin said, and we both dramatically made a face.
There were a lot of harsh drugs that people came into our facility addicted to, but alcohol was one of the scariest. It embedded it’s self into the cells of the user and the withdrawal could actually kill a person. Luckily, we hadn’t had anyone who had gone through such bad withdrawals that they had died; but we had needed to send people to the emergency room before.
“I’ll keep my eye on her,” I promised.
The nurse for the morning walked in and Kaitlin went to give her report on the patients. I stood at the nursing station and looked out over the unit. It certainly was calmer in the early morning hours. Maybe I should give overnights a try sometime.
As the sun finally started to come up, the unit got busier and busier. I ended up in Brianna’s room for most of the morning. She was sick, really sick. I felt so bad for her as she continued to vomit time and time again. The doctor ended up running late and said he wouldn’t be there until around noon.
I gathered cool compresses, helped her take a shower, even sat with her curled up in bed and read to her in an effort to get her mind off of things. Alcohol withdrawals could be really bad, and I had a hard time watching others go through them.
“Tell me about your family,” I said as we sat on her bed.
“My husband, Greg, is so kind. I know it doesn’t seem like it because he left me here. But he loves me. We met in high school and had our three babies one after another. His father owns one of the ski resorts in town,” she said as she paused to sip her Gatorade.
“Oh, my parents manage a resort in town,” I added as we talked.
She didn’t really have the energy to respond to my input, but she did continue to tell me about her kids. Brianna wasn’t looking good at all, and as soon as I got her to fall asleep again, I was going to page Mr. March so he could put some pressure on the doctor. I really thought the doctor needed to come see her.
“Aubrey is my oldest; she’s five years old and loves to dance. Adrian is my middle child and horses are her favorite. Anna is my two-year-old and she’s really into princess…”
Suddenly, Brianna started to shake and her muscles tightened. She was having a seizure. I had been trained to handle these and luckily, I remembered exactly what to do and I started to get her secured while I yelled for help.
“Help!” I screamed as I gently helped her down to the ground and rolled her onto her side. “Help!”
Erik was the first one into the room, and he grabbed her toothbrush and put it between her teeth as she continued to seize. I knew not to get in her way, but only make sure she was safe and wouldn’t hit any furniture, so I kept my hands in front of the bedpost and sat near her until her body stopped convulsing.
“How do I call an ambulance?” Erik asked. “Do I have to dial a number to get out?”
“There’s a blue button under the nurses’ station. Push it; the operator will ask what’s going on. They’ll send the doctor and call 911 for you. Where’s the nurse at?”
Just then Margaret came running into the room. I didn’t get to work with her very often, and I was already very unimpressed at how long it had taken her to get to our emergency.
“I was giving meds. How long has she been seizing?”
“Maybe 30 seconds or so,” I really didn’t know. Time seemed to be standing still.
“Her chart said she was drinking a fifth of vodka daily. I bet she lied about that. Go wait at the back door for the ambulance. They’re going to need to get in here quickly.”
Officer Pinter was running onto the unit as I went to the back door to wait. He was a police officer and had first aid skills much better than mine, so I felt a little relieved to have the nurse and him in the room with Brianna.
“Get the defibrillator, she doesn’t have a pulse,” I heard Margaret yell as Mr. March came running onto the unit.
Mr. March didn’t hesitate at all and ran behind the nurses’ station to grab the black, soft sided box mounted on the wall. Erik moved out of the way but stayed standing behind the counter as Mr. March rushed passed. He had probably just reached the 911 operator by then; it was going to be at least five minutes before an ambulance would arrive.
My hands started to shake and I leaned against the wall as I tried to listen to what was going on and watch out the window for the ambulance all at the same time. She had to be okay. She had a husband and a family. There were so many people in her life that loved her. I started to cry. If they were using the defibrillator, things were more serious than any patient we had ever had on our unit.
“She’ll be okay,” I heard Erik say as he came and stood next to me and watched out the window for the ambulance as I slumped down to the ground and put my hands over my eyes. “They know what they’re doing. She will be okay,” he continued as he tried to reassure me.
Erik was talking quietly, and I wasn’t sure if he was reassuring himself or me. Brianna’s room was filled with people and I couldn’t hear what was happening over all of their voices. I was scared. Terrified, really. She was my age. Sure she had a much different life than me; she was married with three kids, but Brianna was only twenty-four years old. She couldn’t die. She just couldn’t.
Erik grabbed one of the nurses to open the door and then held it as the ambulance pulled right up to the building. They had all their gear ready and looked serious as they rushed inside.
“Room two,” he said as he pointed to Brianna’s room.
The other medic pulled the stretcher out of the vehicle and brought it into the hallway. I was terrified. Brianna wasn’t someone I knew well and I obviously didn’t know her enough to love her. But there were people that loved her; there were three little girls that would forever grow up without a mother if Brianna died. I couldn’t take the thought of it.
Within a couple of minutes, the stretcher was being wheeled out and one medic was delivering chest compressions while the other and Officer Pinter pushed the gurney out to the ambulance. Her skin was pale and grayish in color. I feared she was gone and slid back down to the ground in tears. I had never seen a dead person before.
My emotions were so raw at the possibility that I had done something wrong. If I had called the doctor sooner, maybe she would have been all right. The guilt was eating me alive.
For nearly a half of an hour after Brianna was taken away, the unit was quiet. Everyone sat in the day area or in their rooms. Anytime the phone rang, we anxiously thought it was news about her. Even Mr. March sat with us as we contemplated what had just happened.
This young, vibrant mother of three had been brought to our facility in a last ditch effort to get help. Her husband had feared for his wife’s wellbeing and threatened to leave her if she didn’t get help. So she had reluctantly agreed to be admitted. But had it been too late? Had the lies she told about her usage amount caused her to risk her life even more than she had been.
Many people didn’t understand how dangerous withdrawals from alcohol really were. On admission, our staff always tried to get honest answers from people, but alcoholics and drug addicts weren’t the most honest of people. If a potential patient reported drinking too much alcohol, we required them to detox at the local h
ospital; it was the safest place to be if something bad happened. But there was no way to know for sure if someone was lying about how much they drank.
“You were great this morning,” I said to Erik as I went and sat at his table with him and Brad.
“He was a fucking rock star,” Brad added. “Seriously, dude, if I was ever dying I’d totally want it to be around you.”
“I think that was a compliment,” Erik said as he looked at me and we both laughed.
Brad was a funny fellow. One minute he was joking, the next he was telling you how horrible something was. I always had to take a minute and process what he was saying just to make sure he wasn’t actually saying something horrible to me. I tried not to take offense though, even when he was a bit horrible; it was just his personality.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“That was scary as hell, though. I really hope she’s all right,” Erik added.
“I know. She’s got a husband and three little girls. I could tell she loved them so much. I hope someone called them.”
“Yeah, I heard Mr. March call her husband,” Brad added.
“Life is so short. I mean, seriously. Any one of us could be killed in an accident. It’s stupid all the shit we do to risk our lives even more than natural selection does,” I said.
No one responded to my statement, but I could tell both of the guys were thinking about it. Addiction was a terrible disease. So many people in the world thought it was a choice, but I knew better. Not only from my own life, but by watching what had just happened with Brianna. There was no way she wanted to leave her precious children and die. She didn’t drink because she wanted to. There was an addiction that had a hold of her so deeply that it was taking away everything that she held dear to her heart. I closed my eyes and held my hands together as I said a little prayer for Brianna to make it through the day.
When I opened my eyes I saw Erik praying, as well as Brad. It was all we could do. There was nothing else we could offer Brianna as she fought as hard as she could to live through her addiction.
Chapter 10
Erik
I hadn’t prayed since the day before my mother had been taken from me. But in that moment, as I watched Cassidy say a prayer for the new girl that had basically died in her room that morning, I had to pray.
Something inside me said it would help. I couldn’t explain it. I didn’t even know if I believed God was out there. But there was a drive deep inside of me that called me to do everything possible for this poor woman.
I didn’t know what it was like to be married. I didn’t know what it was like to be a parent. But I did know what it was like to regret. I prayed for Brianna and that if there was a God, He would keep her safe. I prayed that God would give her a chance to make things right and be the mother she knew she could be to her children.
My own mother had believed so powerfully in prayer that the moment made me feel closer to her. Even if I didn’t believe anything good would come out of that prayer, at least I had the joy of feeling close to my mother for the tiniest of minutes.
“All right, everyone, I know we are all worried about Brianna, but we need to keep going with our day. Cassidy, can you start handing out lunch please.”
“Yep,” she replied with a fake smile plastered across her face.
It was hard to imagine that we were supposed to continue on with our day like nothing had happened. Something very bad had happened and I wasn’t really in the mood for sitting in boring group meetings while I talked about my plan for the future.
We were all oddly silent as lunch came around. Brad didn’t even bother to complain or ask what his meal was made of. Every one of us were thinking that what happened to Brianna could have easily happened to any one of us. Hell, it had pretty much happened to me, although I only remembered the hospital and not the paramedics rescuing me.
“I don’t feel like groups today,” I said as Jarrod came around to gather us all up for afternoon group.
“You’re coming,” he said.
The firm expression on his face made it clear that I was attending group whether I liked it or not. Reluctantly, I went to afternoon group. He could strong arm me into attending, but he certainly couldn’t force me to participate.
Everyone from my unit was in group that day. I assumed that Jarrod had strong armed them like he had done to me. None of us looked like we wanted to be there, though. I know I kept thinking about the night I had fallen into the pool and how it could have been my last day. I imagined everyone else was thinking about the incidents that happened to them which could have been their last days.
“So, let’s talk about it,” Jarrod said. “We just saw a woman die and be brought back to life by a shock from a couple of paddles. What’s that feel like?”
He let the silence linger in the room as he waited for someone to answer. He waited, and waited; it was clear that Jarrod wasn’t going to move on until someone answered the question he posed to the group. He was a stubborn man and usually got his way with us. Eventually, someone always broke down and started to talk.
“It feels like shit,” I said to appease the silence.
“Why?”
For God’s sake, now I was going to have to keep talking. I shouldn’t have opened my big mouth. Nothing about the group session that day appealed to me. I had no urge to dredge up my emotions and I knew that thinking about Brianna’s incident was bound to stir something up inside of me.
“Because she had her whole life ahead of her,” I added.
“Has! She has her whole life ahead of her,” Kimber screamed at me. “She was alive when they left. She could make it.”
“I hope she does.”
“Okay, Kimber, you seem pretty emotional. Tell us how you are feeling,” Jarrod asked.
I was grateful for the attention being taken off of me. There wasn’t much that I felt I could add to the conversation. My brain was all twisted up with memories of my own past and I could hardly keep myself together. I bet other people said that I had my whole life ahead of me and why would I have done what I did.
There was a lot of truth in the idea that I could see what was going on for other people better than myself. But really, I did have my whole life ahead of me. I was young, had money, a couple good friends, and if I could get a handle on the addiction I was realizing I had, I might even have a good life in my future.
“I’m pissed. Okay. Is that what you want to hear?” Kimber screamed. “She was a young, beautiful mother and God is an asshole for doing this to her.”
“God did this to her?” Jarrod asked.
“She did it to herself,” I said almost under my breath.
“Don’t be an ass,” Kimber yelled toward me.
Kimber was pissed off. She was angry at Jarrod, at me, at God. I could see the hate spewing out through her eyes. There would be no talking any sense into her that day. It was the first time any of us had seen her get really emotional. Even though Kimber didn’t know the new girl at all, there was obviously a little of herself in Brianna and that scared her to death.
“I’m not trying to be an ass. We control our own actions. The night I got so drunk that I drowned myself in my swimming pool, I can’t blame that on God. He didn’t force feed me those drinks all night long.”
“Okay, let’s not get into the whole God thing,” Stan added. “The fact of the matter is that we all need to take responsibility for our actions. Not just what we do to ourselves, but what we do to the people around us.”
“Did you talk to your daughter?” Jarrod asked Stan.
“Yeah, we talked. She yelled, and I apologized. She yelled some more, and I told her I was sorry some more. When it was all said and done, she invited me to come visit her when I get out of here. She said she has a spare bedroom and that my grandkids are excited to see me.”
“That’s great, Stan,” Jarrod replied.
We were all just filling the time. Jarrod was a good therapist to try and get us to talk, but we really wante
d to know how Brianna was doing. It was weird to me that I cared so much for someone that I didn’t even know. I really couldn’t remember a time when I had met someone and I actually liked them at first, so feeling so bad for Brianna was a huge emotional step for me.
Group session dragged on for the whole hour as Jarrod tried to fill out time and take our minds off of what we had witnessed. As the hours of the day went by slower and slower, we still hadn’t heard an update about Brianna. My blood was boiling at the lack of information. Someone had to know what was going on with her. If she was alive, they just needed to tell us. If she was dead, they could do the common courtesy of telling us that, as well.
“Hey, guys, who wants to go swimming?” Melanie asked.
Everyone said yes. Not that we all actually wanted to go, but any sort of physical activity was likely to keep our minds occupied more than sitting in a group sharing our stories. I had waited for over a week to try out the hot tub; it was going to be fantastic.
I was nervous to go swimming. I couldn’t deny it, but I knew I had to just do it. If I started avoiding pools because of what happened to me, there would be no possibility that I would move on.
When we walked outside, Cassidy was sitting on the edge of the pool like she was about to get in. She had on a hideous, red, one-piece swimsuit that clashed with the red in her hair. I had to assume that the suit was standard issue at Paradise Peak because Melanie also wore the same one.
Although the style and color of the suit was clearly horrible, Cassidy wore it like a model. Her curves hugged the edges in all the right places. If I had to guess, I would say that the red suit was probably two sizes too small for her, but Cassidy had probably done that on purpose in an effort to try and look somewhat cute in the large piece of fabric.
“Everyone needs to read the rules and abide by them. If anyone is horsing around, they will not be allowed back in the pool area for a week,” Melanie called out.
We all diligently read the rules as we walked past and put our things on lounge chairs. I could tell a few of the other patients had been to the pool before as they walked straight over to a stack of towels and took one for when they got out. There were a few people that went right into the big pool without even touching the water to see how warm it was.