Apparently, I haven’t been in this place enough times in my life, so they just keep on bringing me back.
I hate these appointments, I don’t mind too much about being asked a bunch of questions, or when they check my lungs and heart, but the stress test – where they make me run on a treadmill to test my endurance, that one gets old pretty quickly.
Dr. Ellis passes the new doctor my notes.
“You’ll be there a while reading those,” I grumble.
“See what I mean, Vivian, she’s so irritable lately.”
Mum is on first name basis with my doctor these days. I normally am happy for her – that she feels comfortable enough with the informality, but as she’s suggested, I’m irritable today, so it only irks me further.
“Sorry, Dr. Ellis, but my mum is right, I’m in quite the mood.”
I’ve never seen Dr. Ellis laugh, but she looks pretty close to it now.
“She’s a teenager, Leanne, I’d love to be able to tell you it’s a side effect of her condition that I can fix with a medication adjustment, but unfortunately this one is all hormones.”
I don’t know what Mum is complaining about; I’m not near half as bad as what August was at my age – heck even the way she is now. I’d have to step it up at least half a dozen notches to even be in the same playing field as my big sister.
And besides, I’ve got a pretty good idea why I’m so moody.
The school dance is coming up and apparently the skankier the dress, the better, or so it would seem if you listened to the girls at my school.
I can’t wear dresses like the ones in all the pictures I’ve seen.
It’s not Halloween, and that’s exactly how it would look if I put on a bright red dress with a neckline that plunges down to my belly button.
I’m not even sure I want to go.
None of the boys have asked me, and even though Lucy offered for us both to go without dates, I know that Jesse has asked her to go with him, and I can’t take that away from her.
She deserves to have her fairy-tale night.
Besides, it’s the dress, not the date, or lack thereof that has me in a mood.
Mum and Dr. Ellis are chatting together, and I narrow my eyes at their friendly conversation. For a long time, Dr. Ellis wasn’t so informal with us, but I think my mum wore her down eventually.
Mum worships the ground that woman walks on. You’d think she was going to meet the queen anytime we come into contact with her.
I might be in a shitty mood, but that makes me smile. Just a little bit.
“Huh, you’re an AB-positive blood type.”
The new doctor seems to be talking to me as she flicks through my notes.
“Yup.” I pop the ‘p’. “Someone told me I was lucky once, isn’t that ironic.”
She smiles and holds back a laugh – no doubt amused by my attempt at being a drama queen.
I take a good look at her. She’s very pretty, and she’s young too, maybe only ten years or so older than me – I’d be surprised if she’s over thirty. She’s got one of those faces that just looks nice, and I feel bad for being so rude to her.
“Given your condition, and the fact that you’re likely to need a transplant one day in the future, you should count yourself lucky. Not many people can say they have the universal recipient type blood.”
I know she’s right. There are plenty of kids like me whose chances of getting a heart are cut down by something as trivial as the type of blood they have.
“I’m the opposite of you; I’m type O-negative which means I’m the universal donor type,” she tells me.
“Got a spare heart going?” I joke, even though it’s really not funny.
She flicks my file shut and smiles at me again. “I am a listed donor, I can’t speak for any of the other doctors in my profession, but after the things I’ve seen, I can think of nothing better than my organs going to help someone if I couldn’t use them anymore.”
“One man’s trash is another man’s treasure, right?” I mumble.
I should be thanking her, even though she’s not technically done anything for me in particular, but because without people like her, people like me would never get the organs we need to carry on living.
“That’s exactly right…” Dr. White agrees as her phone beeps in her pocket.
She hands my file back to Dr. Ellis who, if I remember the routine right, is about to start poking and prodding and asking me about one thousand questions that my mother is bound to butt in and answer for me anyway.
“I’m sorry, I’m needed on the ward. I might see you again sometime, Violet, but for your sake I hope it’s not anytime soon.”
I give her a genuine smile as she leaves the room.
I hope I won’t be seeing her soon either. I really do. But I know damn well that all good things must come to an end.
I’ve had a pretty good run of luck lately, all things considered. The fact that my run of good luck is probably worse than most people’s run of bad luck is beside the point.
Shitty mood or not, this is the only life I’ve got, and it’s becoming more and more apparent that I just have to make the best of it.
Violet
Present day
There’s something touching me. I can feel the warmth of it against my palm.
It feels nice. Comforting.
I can hear music too.
I blink drowsily and decide that this aspect of death I can deal with. This feels calm, serene and warm.
My eyes close again.
I like it here – I feel safe.
“Violet,” I hear a voice sob.
They know me here. I must finally be in the right place.
“Oh, Violet, you’re back,” the relieved voice whispers.
I want to laugh. I can’t be ‘back’, I’ve never been dead before.
“Thank God,” another voice chokes out, and I become aware of the warmth in my other hand.
I smile.
“Open your eyes for me, buttercup.”
Buttercup.
Buttercup…
My brain kicks into gear and reality hits. My dad has called me ‘buttercup’ for as long as I can remember.
And if he’s here, then…
“Dad?” I croak.
My eyes fly open as my heart pounds and I blink, trying to adjust to the brightness of my surroundings.
“Charlie, the lights.”
Charlie?
The light dims and I continue to blink rapidly as I try to make out the figures surrounding me.
Mum, Dad, Charlie and August… they’re all here.
And so am I.
I’m here.
“I’m alive?” I choke out, my voice raspy.
“Only just, my girl… only just.” Mum sobs as her head falls onto the hospital bed I’m lying in.
Everyone is crying, even Auggie – and she never cries unless a celebrity dies, or she ruins her favourite pair of shoes.
I really must have been close to leaving this time.
My mind spins as they fill me in on the details.
They had to restart my heart twice after I was brought in; I was officially dead for two whole minutes – it’s a miracle that my brain function is still normal.
I’ve been out for over a week and a half total. The drug-induced coma they put me in to allow my body to rest and heal was lifted this morning.
I also hear the thing nobody seems to be saying.
My heart is failing – it’s giving up.
I know what it means… I need a transplant. And if this situation goes by the book then I won’t have long at all to find a donor.
The clock is officially ticking.
We’re all waiting for someone to die in order to save my life, and if that isn’t the worst thought to ever cross my mind, then I don’t know what is.
“Can I tell you something kinda… weird?”
“Always,” August replies without a moment’s hesitation.
I’m n
ot really too sure how to start this without sounding like I’ve lost my mind, so I decide to just jump right in and hope that it doesn’t send her running to the psych team.
“You know how they said that I was gone for a couple of minutes?”
She nods.
“I felt it, Auggie. I was dead.”
She eyes me curiously as the silence stretches between us.
“What’s it like… you know… dying?” she finally asks as she climbs into bed next to me.
Everyone else has gone to eat, Mum has been a nervous wreck ever since I woke up and I couldn’t take anymore of her fussing and pacing the room so eventually I kicked her and Dad out. One or both of them have been here constantly for the past ten days, and they need a well-deserved break.
“It’s different than I thought it’d be...”
“Tell me about it.” She rests her head gently on my shoulder like a child waiting to hear a story.
It’s often been like this with August and I – even though she’s two years older than me, I’ve been like her big sister in a lot of ways.
The only things that August knows more about than I do, are makeup, clothes and most importantly, boys – which is why I figure that she’ll be my best bet at making sense of what I’ve seen.
“There was a man there I don’t know,” I confide in her.
When I first woke up I wasn’t sure if I was going to tell anyone about any of this, but it feels right to talk to my sister about it now.
I know I need to talk to someone – it feels as though the only thing crazier than saying it out loud might be saying nothing at all.
“Was he one of the doctors?”
I shake my head. “No… not one of the doctors… I’ve never seen him before. But he was calling to me, Auggie, it was like he needed me to stay with him.”
She sits back up and looks right at me; she stares – eyes wide, and just when I expect something real to come out of her mouth, her face breaks out into a grin. “So, was he cute?”
This is a classic August response if I’ve ever heard one.
“I nearly died, and you’re worried if an imaginary guy was hot or not?” I roll my eyes at her.
“Oh, he’s not just an imaginary guy; he’s the man of your dreams.” She looks like she actually might believe what she’s saying this time.
I want to believe it too.
“You think so?”
“I’d bet my last dollar.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so instead I just close my eyes and lay still, thinking about everything I saw.
“What else did you see?”
“A baby,” I tell her quietly. “You, Charlie, Mum and Dad were there… Lucy too... and I had… I had a little girl.”
I can feel the tears welling in my eyes, so I squeeze them shut even tighter.
I know I shouldn’t let myself get upset about the things I won’t have. I get to live, for today at least, and I shouldn’t take that for granted.
“It sounds perfect,” she whispers.
August might be pretty full of herself most of the time, but she’s not blind to the fact that children are one of the things I want and probably can’t have.
“It was.”
She lowers her head back to my shoulder and pulls the blanket up to cover us even further.
A nurse is bound to come in here any minute and pitch a fit over her being in bed with me, but I don’t care – for right now I just want to lay here with Auggie and feel alive.
“It was his voice… I think he’s what kept me alive.”
Rationally I know it was the doctor, nurses and the defibrillator that did all the real work, but I’m not sure I would have had the strength to hold on if not for his voice.
“So, he was important, huh?” she asks after a few moments.
I’m starting to feel really tired and the minute my mind starts to drift it’s his eyes I see.
“I think he might be the most important.”
“I really hope I get to meet him one day.”
I smile. “I hope I get to meet him one day too.”
I’m nearly asleep now – I’m so close to drifting off and it’s all blue eyes and daisy fields running through my mind.
“Hey, Vi?” Auggie yawns.
“Yeah?” I reply sleepily.
“I’m really glad you didn’t die.”
Violet
Present day
It’s not until the next morning that I come face to face with the woman who saved my life, and when I do, I’m hit with a sense of Déjà vu.
“It’s nice to see you awake finally, Violet – you gave us all quite a scare.” She smiles at me and it’s then that I recall where I know her from.
She’s the pretty young doctor that sat in on one of my appointments when I was younger. I’ve seen a lot of people in my time, but she stands out more than most of the others for some reason.
She certainly stands out now – she’s a big part of the reason I’m alive.
Medically speaking, she might be the only reason.
“Do you mind if we come in for a chat?”
I gesture for them to go ahead.
It’s just Mum here with me, and I really wish she’d go and get herself a coffee right about now, because I have a feeling this woman is about to make us re-live my entire ordeal, and while I might feel strong enough to hear it, I’m not sure my mother is.
“You remember Dr. White, Violet?” Mum asks me.
“I remember.” I smile at her.
There’s a male doctor by her side – one I don’t recognise.
She gestures to him. “This is Dr. Reece, he’s one of the surgeons covering for Dr. Ellis.”
I say my hellos, and as grateful that I am that he’s here, I just wish that Dr. Ellis were back already. I know everyone deserves a holiday and that she’s only a few days away from returning, but I feel nervous about my condition and she’s the best there is.
If something bad is going to happen to me again, I’d like it to be on her watch.
“What’s the last thing you recall, Violet?” Dr. White questions me.
No one has actually asked me this yet – no one’s asked me anything much at all when I think about it. I’ve pretty much been wrapped in cotton wool these past twenty-four hours.
“I remember I was at home… and I didn’t feel right, so I called Lucy.”
The memory feels hazy, like I’m trying to watch it through a thick layer of fog.
“I remember her and her mum coming to me… I think I could hear the siren from the ambulance… maybe. There’s nothing that makes much sense after that.”
“Good.” Dr. White scribbles something down on the pad of paper she’s holding. “That’s good.”
It doesn’t feel particularly good.
“From that point on you were brought in here by two of our paramedics.”
I try not to smile at the mention of the man I’ve quickly learnt is becoming smitten with my best friend.
“You lost consciousness on the drive, and upon arriving in the emergency room, you went into full cardiac arrest and were required to be revived by the defibrillator twice.”
I know I’ve heard bits of this from my family and from Lucy, but hearing it all put together like this from someone who is essentially a stranger makes it a harder pill to swallow.
“You were very lucky – had Linda not called ahead to ensure we were there ready and waiting, this could have been a very different story. As it was, we still thought we’d lost you for a minute there.”
I try to swallow the lump in my throat so I can say something, anything in response, but I can’t seem to make it happen.
“I’ve never seen someone fight as hard as you did, I wanted you to know that. You weren’t ready to go yet.”
She’s right – I didn’t want Lucy to have to watch me die – so I held on as best I could, and after I saw his eyes and heard his voice, I wanted nothing more than to stay.
“We’
ve been monitoring your heart closely, and while it’s not in great shape, it’s holding on – for now.”
“What happens next?” Mum asks, startling me. I’d forgotten she was even in the room.
“We do all we can do – we wait, watch and hope for the best.”
“Now I don’t want to bore you with the basics – I’m sure you’ve already done the research, but unfortunately it’s protocol.”
She’s right, I have done my research, but it was years ago – when the need for a new heart wasn’t knocking on my front door in the way it is now, so I’ll be grateful for the recap.
Dr. White is back to see me for the second time today, and if that doesn’t convince me that I’m gravely ill, nothing will.
“Best case scenario, we find you a heart quickly, but as I’m sure you’re aware, the wait can be long, I’ve had you placed on the list effective immediately, and while you’re physically a good candidate for a transplant, you’re not at end stage heart failure just yet, so there will be others who will take priority over you.”
She continues to rattle off information and fact about blood types, antibodies, donor size, time spent on the waiting list and medical urgency.
I know things aren’t exactly great for me, and I shouldn’t feel glad that there are others worse off than I am, but for once, I’m not the worst-case scenario. That’s not something I’ve been able to say too often in my life.
As she’s just mentioned, I’m not in severe heart failure just yet, but I’m also not going to be getting out of here anytime soon either.
Dr. White wants me monitored for at least another week before I can go home and wait. And I’ve been informed that Dr. Ellis is on her side – I can’t imagine with the two of them on the case that I’ll have any chance of making an early escape.
I’m also aware how quickly things can change.
I went from feeling somewhat normal, to feeling dizzy and short of breath, to being in full cardiac arrest – all within less than an hour.
That’s not something I want to repeat, but if it is on the cards for me, I’d rather be here when it happens. I’m not sure anyone’s nerves could handle a repeat performance of last time.
My Heart Needs (The Heart Duet Book 1) Page 8