“No, thank you,” Lauren said and looked at her son’s favorite nurse. He was very handsome, the face of a model or an actor with thick, blond hair and amazing eyes, soft and green with pinwheel markings that reminded her of a favorite childhood doll. She wondered why he had chosen nursing. “I’m glad you’re here today, I know it will make a difference to Michael.” She tilted her head as she looked into the greenness of the eyes of the man she knew to be Kevin Browne. “Do you think Michael knows you’re here right now? I’ve seen so many movies where the patient seems to sense that the people who love him are there, but I don’t know if there’s any truth to that. It could just be Hollywood.”
Brownie didn’t honestly know. He shrugged and then smiled at Lauren. “I think many people have a hard time separating reality from Hollywood as far as what they believe is concerned. You know, if we see it then it must be true, that sort of thing. I do know that Michael isn’t feeling any pain and won’t remember anything. He’s in a deep sleep brought on by the meds he’s receiving to keep him comfortable.”
Lauren was curious about something. “Do you think they could wake him up for just a few moments so that I could talk to him? It’s just that….”
Brownie finished her sentence for her, “You’re afraid that Michael is going to die and you want to say goodbye, just in case.”
Lauren nodded. “Brownie, I know that despite praying for someone to recover, even if half the planet is praying, it doesn’t guarantee a healing.” She looked upon the sleeping face of her little boy. “Sometimes God doesn’t grant our prayer requests with the outcome we have in mind.” She recalled the abundance of prayers for Darryl, yet he had died. “As much as I want Michael to recover and to live out his life, I can’t deny that sometimes the outcome isn’t what we want. People do die. Sadly, there are children in this hospital, who despite prayers for them to recover will not leave here alive.”
Brownie watched her silently. He knew what was on her mind, and more importantly, on her heart. He also knew that at times all that was required of him was to listen. Humans love to talk and fortunately, angels are good listeners.
Lauren turned once more to Brownie. “I don’t want Michael to suffer, Brownie. I also know that if Michael does die, he’ll go to Heaven and every bad thing will be gone forever. His Dad is there, and I imagine Darryl must miss him as much as I know I would. Maybe it’s his time to have Michael—I don’t know.” She smiled, slightly embarrassed by what she felt were her ramblings. “I’m sorry. I know I’m probably not making any sense.”
Brownie smiled. “You make perfect sense, and God hears your prayers, knows the desires of your heart. And yes, there are times when God cannot grant your requests because He has something else in mind. He always knows better than we do.”
Lauren’s eyes widened at his words. “I had no idea you’re a Christian!” she breathed. “I had no idea that you’re a believer, Brownie! Or would you rather I call you Kevin?”
“No, please call me Brownie; it’s the name I’m really most comfortable with.”
“I know it doesn’t matter, but which church do you go to if you don’t mind my asking?”
Brownie looked into her eyes. An angel of the Most-High God was incapable of lying. “Lauren, has Michael told you anything about me?”
“Just that you visit him, that you make him laugh and that he feels safe with you.”
“There’s something Michael didn’t tell you about me because I asked him not to. I am an angel, Lauren.”
Before Lauren could utter a sound, Brownie was surrounded by a glittering glow that came from him and swirled around him. He slowly transformed into what he truly looked like, a golden-brown teddy bear, and sat at the edge of Michael’s bed.
Lauren’s mouth dropped at the sight of him. At first she was afraid, but then she recalled that she had seen an unfamiliar teddy bear in Michael’s room.
“Yes, that was me you saw. This is my true form. For some people, it’s easier if I appear to be Kevin, but what you see right now is how God made me.”
Suddenly weak, Lauren sank into the nearest chair, her hands over her heart. There was still a warm sort of glow emanating from Brownie, and it was so strange to see what appeared to be a stuffed animal actually blinking his eyes, talking, and moving his hands.
“It’s truly alright,” Brownie soothed. “You’re in no danger. God would never send anything harmful to you.”
“What if someone comes in?” Lauren asked wondering if she should close the door. She pictured someone wandering in while she was talking to a teddy bear and was afraid they would think she had lost her mind.
Brownie smiled. “That won’t be necessary, no one will come in. Time as you know it sort of, well, stops during these moments. Please don’t ask me to explain it because I can’t, not in a way that would make any sense to you. It’s just one more glorious way of our Lord.”
“I had a dream this morning,” Lauren told him, aware that her hands shook slightly. She clasped them together in her lap to keep them still. “I saw Michael with my husband and realized that they were both in Heaven. Does that mean that my son is going to die? Or am I allowed to ask that?”
“There’s nothing to stop you from asking. Unfortunately, I don’t know the answer. God sends us out on missions all the time to do many things,” Brownie explained as best he could. “This year, I found myself here.”
Lauren smiled in spite of herself. “Here you are in Ohio of all places, and in a little town like Brannan’s Point to boot! I wonder why God didn’t send you to Columbus or Cleveland, or Cincinnati. Whoever named some Ohio cities certainly liked names beginning with the letter ‘c!’” She shook her head. “I’m rambling.”
“Lauren, I will be here for Michael, and for you,” Brownie told her. “I’m sorry that I really can’t answer any of your questions. But I do know that you have released your faith and that your prayers reach the Father. I was permitted to reveal myself to you and to let you know that God loves you.”
Tears misted in Lauren’s eyes. “Thank you, Brownie. I needed to hear that and I’ll feel better knowing you’re here, no matter what happens.”
Brownie turned around, facing Michael. He called the boy’s name and navy blue eyes fluttered open in response. He heard Lauren gasp. “He’s not in any pain or discomfort. You wanted to talk to him, Lauren, this is your chance.”
Lauren rose from the chair and leaned over her son. She took his hand in hers, clutching it tightly to her heart. It was small, warm, the hand of a beloved child, her beloved child. “Oh, my sweet darling,” she breathed as tears streamed down her cheeks. “I love you so much, Michael!”
Michael smiled up at her. His eyes were clear despite his pale facial coloring. “I’m okay, Mommy. I’ve been having this cool dream about Daddy.” He looked over at Brownie. “And I saw some angels who look like you. There was one named Teerah, and she was really pretty, Brownie! And she and my Dad know one another. It was so cool!”
“You saw Daddy?” Lauren practically whispered.
Michael nodded. “He lives in a house that overlooks some mountains, Mom, and he’s got a big hound dog named Homer, and a white cat named Major; they live with him because they want to, even though they can go wherever in Heaven they want to. Anyway, Daddy always liked the mountains; he told me every time we drove through Kentucky and Tennessee. I only saw it from the outside before I woke up and saw you here with Brownie. I’m glad you know who he is now, Mom. It was hard for me to keep him a secret. You always told me that I shouldn’t lie, I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay, I understand,” Lauren assured him as she looked into his eyes. “Doctor Jeb and another doctor will be operating on you later today, Sweetheart. I don’t want you to be afraid, okay?”
“Mom, I’m not scared. What is there to be scared of?” Michael asked. He settled his head back against the pillow. “I’m sleepy. Do you mind if I close my eyes?”
“No, Baby. You go ahead. I’ll be right
here.”
***
Later that day, the surgical team led by Alan Springfield prepared to remove an aggressive, malignant tumor from a young Michael Donahue’s chest. They had decided that depending upon what they found once they opened Michael up, the best course to take might be an auto-transplant. They would remove Michael’s heart for best access to the tumor and then reconnect it, like a transplantation of his own heart.
“I’m amazed he’s doing as well as he is,” Alan said as he and Jeb meticulously scrubbed their hands, painstakingly following each step they had learned during their surgical rotations as interns. “I’m afraid if we don’t get that monster out of him soon, things will deteriorate rapidly.”
Jeb nodded. He hadn’t seen his college roommate ten in years or more. Alan Springfield had a warm, easy smile, a quick wit and the ability to put people at ease almost instantly. The first time Jeb’s mother had met him, long before Alan became the darling of Mass General and a superstar in the oncology world, she commented that his friend “could certainly work a room.” That remark had never left Jeb and he smiled as he remembered. He had no doubt that Alan Springfield could have had a successful career in movies or TV, could have been a star.
“Why are you smiling?” Alan asked. He arched one brow above expressive brown eyes.
“Nothing in particular, just something my mother told me once.”
“Have you ever seen an explant, Jeb?”
“No, but I watched a video of a man with a cardiac sarcoma. It was fascinating, and scary as all get out.”
“Well, auto-transplant is rare, though not as rare as it once was, and not many of us do them successfully. We’ve got our work cut out for us,” Alan said, his mind on the business at hand, “but you’ve got the best with you today. I’ve done great things in the O R. Young Michael is in very capable hands.”
“It’s in God’s hands,” Jeb said sincerely as he rinsed his hands and arms under the faucet. It annoyed him when he saw Alan scowl. “That bothers you?”
Alan shrugged. “I don’t use the idea of a god as a crutch. I know my own abilities and what I’m good at. But I’m surprised at you, old man, to be leaving things in anyone else’s hands but your own. That’s not the Jeb Hastings I remember. Don’t tell me you’ve gone all soft and theological on me.”
“Let’s put it this way, Alan,” Jeb said, doing his best to keep the annoyance out of his voice as this was not the time for an argument. “If depending on God makes me soft and theological in your eyes, then I guess I’m guilty as charged. His presence is everywhere in my life and I would be a fool to deny it. And by the way, a fool is one thing I’m not.”
“Jeb, Jeb, Jeb! I can see that you still believe that some god you can’t even see or feel is the only source of healing. He gets all the credit and glory, and of course the blame, so it’s obvious that being God, the Big G, isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” Alan shook his head. “When this is over, you and I will have to sit down and have a long talk.”
“I’ll look forward to it. In the meantime, I’ll be praying for you whether you like it or not, old man,” Jeb replied with a smile. He chuckled as his old friend rolled his brown eyes.
***
Lauren had prayed in the chapel, eaten a snack in the coffee shop, visited with the volunteer in the gift shop, and had even gone up onto the roof to get a panoramic view of the city, just to have something to do besides sit. The prayer vigil was continuing at the church and while Lauren preferred not to have people hovering over her, she didn’t want to be by herself either.
Choosing to remain in Michael’s room instead of the waiting room, Lauren was mindlessly thumbing through a magazine—she wasn’t even sure which one it was—when she felt that someone was watching her. She looked up to find Charlie standing in the doorway of Michael’s room.
Feeling a little foolish for having simply shown up, Charlie smiled and rapped his knuckles on the metal door casing. “Hello there, Miss Lauren. You up for some company?”
Lauren smiled, genuinely pleased to see him. They didn’t know each other well, but she felt very much at ease with Charlie Petersen. “Please, come on in, Charlie! I think I’ve had all the aloneness I can handle.”
Charlie entered the room and noticed the empty bed. He looked questioningly at Lauren. “Where’s Michael? More tests?”
Lauren shook her head. “No, they’re operating on him as we speak,” she said and suddenly felt a lump in her throat. “Doctor Hastings flew in a specialist from Boston, some superstar oncology surgeon he feels very comfortable with. He fears that if the tumor isn’t removed that it may kill Michael, so we didn’t have much choice. They may have to take out my son’s heart to get at the tumor. Scary stuff, huh?”
“Lauren, I’m so sorry,” Charlie empathized in a soft voice as he walked the few steps between them and stood in front of the chair where she sat. “If this a bad time for me to be here, I can come back. I, uh, can’t say I know how you feel, but I know it has to be scary to have your child go through something like this. Wow, they may have to remove his heart?” He wagged his head in amazement. “I wish there was something I could do.”
Suddenly, he knew what he could do for Lauren as he remembered one of his conversations with Brownie. He knelt down in front of her and looked up into her eyes. He was struck by the vibrant shade of violet beneath a shimmer of tears. Through eyes that met hers with mindful regard, he didn’t see the signs of sleeplessness, of endless tears or heart wrenching stress. He saw a lovely woman who knew both the sorrows and joys of life. He took her delicate hand in his, a pale shade of ivory or alabaster that looked as if his touch could leave a bruise behind, then bowed his head. He wasn’t sure what he was about to say, he took a deep breath, exhaled and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
“Lord, we know that You are always with us, even when we don’t understand what it is You’re doing,” he began in a quiet voice, his eyes closed. “Please let Your perfect peace envelope Lauren as she waits for word on Michael’s condition. Father, we know You’re in control and we know that You’re here with us, and that You’re in the operating room. You’re in Jeb Hastings, guiding his hands every step of the way, and Michael is never out of Your sight or Your reach. Please care for this family in accordance with Your will, in Jesus’ name, amen.”
“Amen,” Lauren said thickly. She couldn’t help but notice that Charlie prayed similarly to Darryl, possessed a similar kind, comforting voice. Tears like big raindrops spilled down her cheeks and made wet spots as they landed on her blouse. She reached for a tissue, her other hand still in Charlie’s, and wiped her tears. “Thank you, Charlie, for your beautiful prayer and for your concern. It means more to me than I can say.”
He nodded, not ready to release her hand. Somehow it felt so right in his, as if it belonged there. “Have you had anything to eat?”
“Oh, I couldn’t eat a thing. My heart is pretty much in my throat. There is something you could do for me if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”
“Yes, of course. What can I do?”
“Could you stay with me for a little while?”
Charlie nodded, doing his best to hide how happy she had made him by asking him to stay.
Chapter 15
It was late in the evening; Lauren was standing in front of the window in Michael’s hospital room, gazing out at the twilight sky. It was dark except for a random sprinkling of falling snowflakes melting as they touched the ground. She was in Michael’s room on the second floor, and as she looked out she noticed that the parking lot was strangely empty. She supposed some folks were staying at home in anticipation of the likeliness of worsening weather.
She had spent the better part of the day with Charlie Petersen. The hint of a smile played at the corners of Lauren’s mouth, despite her weariness. It had been comforting to have him to talk to, and having Charlie around made what might have been intolerable, easier.
Of course, there were friends from Westside Family Church,
but there were others whom she had never even spoken to before Michael’s illness. She was grateful for their prayers and concern, and for those who reached out in love and comfort to her. Despite the outpouring of support, she still felt alone in the world. There wasn’t a single aspect of her life that Darryl’s death had not affected, she missed him—her best friend—with all her heart. One day she was a wife, content with her life, the next she was a widow with a child to raise alone. Life could change in the blink of an eye.
She crossed her arms and hugged them to her chest. Michael had been in surgery for more than six hours, now and counting. Lauren heard someone call her name and she turned toward the door in the direction of Doctor Hastings’ voice. She dared not even breathe as she looked at him; he was still wearing blue surgical scrubs with large, wet circles of perspiration near his neckline and arm pits. Doctor Springfield was with him. Fatigue, especially the dark shadows beneath their eyes, showed in both men.
“How is Michael?” She was holding her breath, clutching her heart with trembling hands as she waited for an answer.
“He’s holding his own,” Jeb replied. “Lauren, it was a long, complicated procedure, and excising the tumor with clear margins was trickier than we would have liked. Happily, we did get clear margins, but just barely, so it’s going to be wait-and-see, like we talked about earlier.”
“What about his heart? Is there any damage?” Lauren asked, still trying to fathom that they had actually removed her son’s heart from his body without killing him.
“His heart performed beautifully, that part of the surgery went off flawlessly, thank God. During the explant, while Michael was on bypass, we discovered another very small tumor called a ‘Cardio Angiosarcoma’ located at the back of the heart,” Jeb explained. “I have no idea why, but the tumor didn’t show up in the imaging. It was a tiny mass, and I believe it metastasized from the primary tumor growing along the tissue that surrounds the outer pericardium, and the inside of his chest.”
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