Nurse in Recovery

by Dianne Drake

  “It works, but I like this one better.”

  Stilted conversation. Trying to avoid the obvious. The distance between them was so vast now. All for the better, most likely. But “for the better” sure didn’t make her feel any better.

  Mitch raised his arms above his head to stretch, then did a few knee bends. She liked watching him warm up. Liked the look of his muscles, his strength. His independence. And, yes, that was the woman in her looking at a hunk of a man. But it was also the woman who was fighting to get her own muscles and strength back…along with her independence. “I do too,” she admitted. “I feel safer here.” No ease between them anymore. A few honest words and everything had changed.

  Sitting on the edge of the pool—almost despondently—Anna let her feet slide in. There was more movement in her legs these days. Not huge amounts yet, but definitely enough to call it good progress, and right now she was getting a pretty good splash going. Mitch always reminded her that kicking against the water was good resistance, and resistance built good muscles. Not today, though. He hadn’t reminded her of anything. He was pulling away, and the words didn’t have to be spoken because it was so plain to see.

  So maybe Lanli’s pool was in her future—Lanli’s pool without Mitch.

  If that was the way it had to be, so be it. For Mitch it would work out the way it should. For her…well, she’d get along. “So I guess I’m about ready,” she said, her voice so blue her words melted away without Mitch even hearing them.

  “Water’s chilly. Temperature’s down several degrees, so let’s do this real fast. OK? Get in, get out.”

  “Sure.” And she didn’t blame him for wanting to get rid of her. She’d gone over their conversation in her head all night, time and time again. Each time it had looped back through she’d realized, even more strongly than the time before, that she’d done the right thing. He’d been on the verge of getting himself into something he didn’t need to be in, and for once she’d been the one with crystal-clear vision. It wouldn’t work, couldn’t work.

  But she’d really hoped they could continue the relationship they had. Apparently she was wrong about that one. So this would be the last time here, dome or no dome over his pool. Again, her choice. And there was no other choice to be made. If you loved something, set it free. She had to set Mitch free.

  “Give me time for a couple of laps, then come on in,” Mitch said, then he dove in, his body slipping into the water like a hand into a perfectly fitting glove. She loved watching him do that, watching his body perform the way a body was meant to perform. Lately, she was beginning to forget some of that. Nine months had a way of diminishing the memory, and some of the little things were slipping away already—achy feet from a long, hard day of work, teetering on stilettos, climbing steps, running barefoot through the grass. So she liked watching Mitch, vicariously enjoying the simple things she was coming to realize she’d never have again. Realize and accept.

  Waiting for him to surface, waiting to join him for one last swim, Anna anticipated what would come next. He’d challenge her to swim to him, and she would, although not as far as he wanted. That was the game. He doubled the distance she could swim then goaded her into one or two more strokes. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. Today she didn’t know.

  “Mitch,” she called, waiting for him to come up.

  By now he was halfway across the pool…or more, and a little lump of dread was beginning to form. She didn’t want to give this up. But she had to be strong about it. Mitch deserved more.

  “Mitch, that’s far enough. You can stop now.” This was getting ridiculous. He had to be almost to the other side of the pool. “Mitch?”

  Anna looked for him…couldn’t see him. Couldn’t even see the ripples he usually made. But she did see… “Oh, my God,” she gasped. Blood floating up! A tiny stream of it swirling like a delicate ribbon to the surface.

  “Mitch!” she screamed.

  Nothing.

  “Mitch!” Panicked, Anna reached around to her wheelchair for her cell phone, but it wasn’t there. It was back in the house with her clothes. And she couldn’t go and get it. Not now!

  Instinctively she started counting the seconds. How long had he been under? Twenty seconds? Thirty? Not a full minute yet. She was sure of that. The nurse in her made her sure.

  No more thinking. Anna slipped into the pool. Please, God, let me swim. Let me get to him. “Mitch, hold on. I’m coming,” she yelled, calling up every lesson he’d taught her. Use your arms…Depend on your arms…Let your legs support the arms.

  Anna fought the water for what seemed like forever. One stroke, two, then she’d sink under and fight her way back for another stroke, then another. Dog paddle… “Mitch,” she choked, gasping for air. “I’m on my way.”

  About a third of the way across the pool she saw him on the bottom, his body slack. Face down, arms out. No sign of life. And Anna knew she would either rescue him or drown with him. There was no other way, and she wouldn’t let him drown—or drown alone. “Help me,” she prayed aloud, before taking in as much oxygen as her lungs would hold.

  Thank God it was only a lap pool, six feet deep. Not too far down, she thought. You can do that. Six feet looked like sixty, though, since she’d never made it six feet across the pool, let alone straight down. But if she couldn’t do it…

  Trying to buck herself up in the water in order to gain the momentum to submerge herself, Anna’s body merely slapped the surface on her first attempt, floated only a foot under it, then bobbed right back up. Without even thinking about her first failure, she tried again and again until on the fourth try she hit the surface with enough force, and her arms found an unexplained reserve of strength to pull her down. Once she was under, she kept going down…down…for what felt like miles, until she was able to reach out to Mitch’s hand, to touch him. Then she grabbed hold, praying for the strength to get both of them back up to the surface.

  But he was so heavy. Alone, she couldn’t do it. Her lungs were giving out, her muscles beginning to throb. Too much weight to support…

  Can’t do it. And she wanted to cry, but there was no energy left for that.

  The life ebbed out of Anna, and now she was free-floating with Mitch. Drifting away with him. Her life washing by, and she couldn’t reach out and grab it back. Lanli, her dear friend Lanli…The real Anna Wells is someone who doesn’t back down from a challenge. But she had to now. There was nothing left.

  And she thought about her dad—wonderful father, wonderful man. The only thing I know even more than how much I love you, sweetheart, is that you can beat this thing. She loved him, too, but she couldn’t beat it anymore. She was through.

  And Mitch…She’d never told him, should have. Cut the crap or I’m out of here…out of here…out of here…

  Mitch! He was dying! She wouldn’t let him.

  Anna’s eyes shot open and she yanked him straight up at her until she had him under the chin, then she fought her way back up to the surface. Only five feet…four feet…three feet. You go, girl. One foot left and it seemed insurmountable. Chains dragging her back down. Gotta do it, gotta save him. Dragging Mitch’s deadweight up with hardly any strength left to fight her own way out of the depths, the nurse in Anna suddenly snapped into her head. She was back in the ER now, assessing a drowning patient. How long had he been under? Was CPR started immediately?

  Chilled water slowed the body metabolism, causing less of a need for oxygen. Meaning the body stayed technically alive longer in cold water. Please, God, let it be so.

  She could resuscitate Mitch. She knew that. Knew how to do it. With that sure knowledge, every moment of everything she’d been as a nurse forced her head up and out of the water, and as she broke the surface and sucked in the sweet, sweet oxygen, she dragged Mitch along with her. Then, as if the invisible chain chose that moment to slip back to the abyss, both their bodies grew lighter and she saw they were only four feet from the edge of the pool.

  She was
so tired, though, and he was so heavy. But she wouldn’t let him go. “Stay with me, Mitch. I’ll take care of you. Just keep listening to my voice.” People who were unconscious often did hear, and she prayed Mitch could. “Just listen to my voice,” she repeated. “Hang on to it and we’ll be OK.”

  Empty promises. Promises she shouldn’t have made because she didn’t know how she could take care of him. Didn’t know if she had it in her. “First, I’ve got to get you over to the wall. You’ll be safer there, and I can help you better.” But it was so far, so very far. “I’ll take care of you,” she promised again. “Almost there. Just another few seconds.”

  She had to get to the side, but he was getting heavier again. Her arms, Lord, how they burned. Can’t hold on to him. Have to hold on. Another two feet, that’s all. “I’ve got you, Mitch, and I’m not letting go. We’re almost there.” So far away still. “Almost there. Just hang on. Another few feet.”

  Anna didn’t see the gash on his head still bleeding, leaving a crimson trail on the water. Didn’t see the blue tinge coming to his lips, meaning he needed oxygen. All she saw was their destination, and getting there would be the only way she could save him because she could not do an in-water resuscitation. She’d have to let him go to accomplish it, to get herself in position, and if she did she’d never get him back. And she’d never let him go.

  “Almost there,” she reassured him. “And when I get you out of here, we need to put you on a strict exercise program. Knock a good ten pounds off of you in case I have to do this again.” Babbling. She couldn’t stop it. Talking to him meant he was listening, meant he was alive. And he had to be alive. Somewhere deep down, Mitch had to be alive, had to know she wouldn’t let him die. He was trusting her, as she’d trusted him.

  Pool edge so close… “OK, we’re getting there. Just another couple of feet. Does this count for my workout tomorrow?” Tomorrow, please, God, let there be a tomorrow.

  So close she could almost reach out and touch the pool’s edge, and the water was getting colder. She could feel the ache in her legs. They were slowing down. She loved Mitch, and he couldn’t die now that they were so close.

  With a burst of strength that could have come only from adrenalin, or love, Anna pushed herself forward to the side of the pool, and once she was there she steadied herself enough to anchor Mitch to the wall with her body. “OK, now the next part’s going to get a little tricky, but we can do it. Just hang on to my voice, Mitch. Wherever you are, listen to me.” His body pressed between hers and the cement, she forearmed him in the diaphragm to expel any water he’d sucked in, but nothing came out. Not even a sputter.

  “Cough it out, Mitch,” she said, trying again. “Cough out the water.” Nothing again, so she breathed five deep breaths into him, breaths she didn’t even have in sufficient supply for herself, but would never deny him. Then she felt his neck for a pulse. Nothing!

  “Oh, my God!” she sputtered, punching him in the chest. Precordial thump—it could sometimes get the heart started without CPR. And she couldn’t do CPR now, so this was it—precordial thump or nothing. “Mitch, don’t do this to me. You’re trying to die on me and I won’t let you, damn it. You owe me a skinny dip.” She felt his neck. Still no pulse, so she breathed for him again, then pounded his chest once more.

  How long had it been? she wondered, moving back into position to give him another breath. Hours? Days? An eternity? “Come on, Mitch. Cut the crap or I’m out of here.” She felt for a pulse again…still nothing. Wait! Was that something thready, faint, barely there? “I feel it, Mitch. I expected better from you, but it’s there.” Or was it? Real, or wishful thinking? Anna didn’t know. If it was a real heartbeat and she hit him in the chest again, that could stop his heart for good. But if it wasn’t real and she didn’t hit him in the chest…

  Always trust your instincts, Anna. They won’t let you down.

  “Trust me, Mitch,” she whispered, before giving her next breath to him. And her next, and her next. Each time her breath went to his lungs, his pulse grew a little stronger until finally he began to gasp for his own air. “It’s about time,” she sputtered, wanting to cry, and knowing she couldn’t. Mitch needed everything she had. Everything. And tears were a waste that could cost him. “One breath at a time. That’s all you have to do. One breath at a time.”

  He wasn’t conscious yet, but he was struggling to suck the air into his lungs. His body was demanding it now, but the water in his lungs was fighting him back. “You can hear me, Mitch. I know that. So fight it for me. Just keep breathing no matter how hard it gets.” That’s how life is, Anna, whether or not you’re learning to walk. One step at a time and always on the brink of falling over. “Don’t fall over on me, Mitch. Just concentrate on one step at a time.”

  Anna watched Mitch, supported Mitch, held Mitch for more minutes than she knew until his breathing turned easier. And she never quit talking to him—talking about her new hopes and her new dreams, the ones that were beginning to come true because of him, and the ones that would come true later on. “Mitch, I don’t know what to do next,” she finally said. “I’ve got to get you out of here.” He was still struggling some to breathe, but he was also holding his own much better now, and that was when she realized her next task was going to be the most difficult one yet—getting him out of the pool.

  “Any suggestions?” she asked. “’Cause I’m open to about anything at this point.” Breathing and having a beating heart didn’t necessarily mean survival. And that wound on his head was nasty—skull fracture, possible bleeding into the brain? There were so many possibilities from a diving injury and each and every one was spinning through her mind. So was the fact they were stranded in the pool, getting colder by the minute. Their body temperatures were slowly going down. She was shivering now, on the verge of hypothermia. And surely he was already there. How long before their body organs began systematically shutting down, surrendering to the cold? She couldn’t remember, didn’t want to know. “You should have been having me bench press so I could just lift you over my head and heave you out of here. Add that to my training list for next week, will you?” If he survived until next week. If they survived until next week.

  If he survived…If Mitch survived. No! Not now! Suddenly Anna couldn’t breathe. It was strangling her, sucking the little bit of breath she had right out of her. Getting woozy. Getting nauseated. “Mitch, help…” she choked. “I need you…” But he needed her more. He wouldn’t live without her.

  She fought to keep her breathing under control. When the demon sucked out her breath, she sucked it right back in. Take it in, Anna. Hold it…Count to five…Purse your lips…let it out. Take it in… Breathing evening out. He needed her. And she needed him so desperately. “I’m OK,” she finally said. “It didn’t get me this time. But I still don’t know how to get you out of here, Mitch, and you’re not helping me too much.”

  Could she drag him out, or push him maybe?

  No clue. Think, Anna. You won’t leave him here, and you don’t want to die either.

  “So let’s figure it out. Deadweight doesn’t push as easily as it pulls, does it? In the water I’ll be fighting all your dead…er, unconscious weight, plus the weight of my own legs. And I don’t have much strength left in me.”

  She’d hopped out of the pool by herself before, with lots of effort and some help. Getting in was always easy but getting out hadn’t been mastered. “Hey, Mitch, the metal ladder—never used it, don’t know if I can climb it. You think?”

  Her body still pressed so tightly to Mitch’s they were almost one. Anna held him with her right arm, pulled them along the pool edge with her left until they reached the ladder. So close to rescue now. But she couldn’t let go of him, not even to get herself up. He’d go down.

  Instinctively, Anna checked Mitch’s pulse. “Still OK,” she said. “And make sure you don’t stop. You hear me, Mitch? You’ve got a great body, Mitch. Have I mentioned that before?” Of course she hadn’t. She hadn�
��t mentioned anything of her real feelings, including the ones that, on several occasions, had had her looking at his body that way.

  “Don’t worry. I’m a nurse. I’ve seen it all before,” she mumbled, wedging Mitch even tighter against the side of the pool. Once she was confident he wouldn’t go down, Anna let go of him, grabbed the waistband of his trunks—his usual Hawaiian print baggy cottons that hung halfway to his knees, and tugged them off. She remembered wishing for something else the first time she’d seen him in trunks. He’d look good in something tight, skimpy…black. Something to show off that nice body a little more than he is. Now she was glad for all the excess fabric.

  “OK, remember that day when I told you I wanted to tie you up?” I wish I could tie you in this chair for five minutes. I’d roll you out onto the highway in the middle of the night and leave you there. “I won’t leave you, Mitch, like I said, but I am going to tie you up.” Holding onto his trunks and still fighting to keep both their heads above the surface of the water, Anna managed to secure the leg of his trunks to his wrist, then tie it to the ladder. “Now, if you go under I can get you back right away.” Immediately after she tightened Mitch to the ladder, Anna pulled herself up the steps, using mostly her arms but fighting to balance some weight on her legs. She could stand with help now, and had taken her first unaided step last night. And this ladder was the only help she was going to get. “Three lousy steps,” she grunted. “Three…”

  She was getting heavier and heavier, dragging herself up, trying to push with whatever was left in her legs. Get to the top rung. “You should have had me working out on the monkey bars, Mitch.” She glanced back over her shoulder, relieved to see his head was still above the water. He was floating peacefully, if lying unconscious in a cold swimming pool could be called peaceful.