Emergency Echo

by George Ivanoff

  ‘Twenty-eight,’ said Tiggs, as he continued checking Alice. ‘My age. If you really want to know.’

  ‘Well, you don’t look it,’ said Grandad.

  ‘It’s ’cause I moisturise,’ said Tiggs.

  Grandad frowned disapprovingly.

  Tiggs grinned and talked all the way to the hospital. He talked about how he constantly got asked for identification to prove his age, what it was like being a paramedic, and how he backpacked around Europe after he finished high school. He talked about all sorts of things.

  She found the constant sound of his voice a good distraction from the pain. Or maybe it was the painkillers doing their stuff. But she listened, particularly to his travelling tales – stories of foreign sights, sounds and tastes; stories of amazing places and fascinating people.

  Before she knew it, they had arrived at the hospital.

  Alice was wheeled through corridors, from room to room. But, always, Grandad was with her. In one of the rooms, she was asked to remove jewellery.

  Grandad leaned over and unclasped the chain with Dad’s gold nugget from around Alice’s neck. ‘I’ll take good care of it,’ he said. ‘Promise.’

  And then she was in another room and a man was introducing himself as the anaesthetist and asking if Grandad wanted to stay until ‘the patient was under’. The anaesthetist disconnected the plastic bag from the IV drip and attached a new one. Alice stared up at Grandad’s face as it slowly went fuzzy …

  Then blurry …

  And then darkness overwhelmed her.

  Her mouth felt dry and her throat was sore. These were Alice’s first thoughts.

  Then she heard a voice – indistinct, but somehow reassuring.

  She tried to open her eyes, but they felt so heavy, so she gave up.

  There was something soft under her head. A pillow.

  But there were unfamiliar sounds around her along with the familiar voice. A soft beeping. Things being moved about.

  She wasn’t in her own bed.

  Where was she?

  Her left hand felt uncomfortable. She groaned.

  Hospital! Her appendix!

  The voice got louder. It was saying her name.

  She concentrated on opening her eyes until she saw a blurry face staring down at her. The lights were so bright they hurt her eyes. She closed them again.

  ‘Hello, honey,’ said the voice.

  She blinked her eyes open. It was Grandad’s face and voice.

  Alice wanted to smile, but was too tired. So she closed them again.

  Everything faded away. And then back again.

  Grandad was still talking. She tried to catch the words. Something about home and a party.

  She opened her eyes. Grandad wasn’t quite so blurry anymore. This time Alice managed a little smile.

  ‘It all went well,’ said Grandad in a low, gentle voice.

  Alice realised how thirsty she was. She tried to swallow, but there was no saliva in her mouth and her throat was like sandpaper.

  ‘Drink?’ she croaked.

  ‘Hold on a moment,’ he said and disappeared from view.

  Then he was back with a nurse.

  ‘Good to see you’re awake,’ said the nurse. ‘How are you feeling? Any nausea?’

  ‘No,’ answered Alice.

  ‘Okay, that’s good,’ she said. ‘But I’m afraid we can’t give you anything to drink just yet. Sorry about that. Best we can do are a few ice chips. That’ll help your throat feel better.’

  Alice nodded weakly and closed her eyes.

  A few moments later she felt something cold being pressed against her lips. She parted her lips and little bits of coolness fell into her mouth. She sucked them eagerly. The ice chips melted too quickly and trickled down her throat. It felt good.

  But then a wave of nausea hit. She groaned and screwed her eyes up tighter.

  It passed.

  Everything faded away.

  Then there was Grandad’s voice again, calm and reassuring. Someone was moving about her. She blinked and opened her eyes to see the nurse.

  ‘Sorry to disturb you,’ she said, ‘but we need to do obs every thirty minutes.’

  ‘Obs?’ Alice croaked.

  ‘Obs is short for “observations”,’ explained the nurse. ‘We need to monitor your heart, blood pressure and temperature, and check your dressing and meds.’ She paused for a moment as she checked the IV. ‘Now, have you passed wind yet?’

  ‘What?’ Alice was a little taken aback.

  ‘Have you farted since waking up?’ the nurse clarified.

  ‘Um … I don’t think so,’ said Alice, slightly embarrassed.

  ‘I haven’t heard anything,’ Grandad piped up. ‘Or smelled anything.’

  Alice’s face went red.

  ‘Well, just be aware that we need to know when you do,’ said the nurse. ‘Passing wind is the first sign that your bowels are working properly. We’ll also be eager for you to have a wee soon. And eventually a poo.’

  Alice closed her eyes. She really didn’t want to be thinking about farting and pooing and weeing.

  A little while later the nurse came back to check in on her and raised the end of the hospital bed so that Alice could sit up. Again, she asked about ‘passing wind’. The nurse seemed pleased that Alice’s tummy had been rumbling, even though she still hadn’t farted.

  ‘How’s your throat?’ she asked.

  ‘Hurts,’ said Alice.

  ‘We can fix that now.’ The nurse brought her a lemonade icy-pole.

  Alice sucked on it and smiled. It was the most wonderful thing in the world – cool and sweet and … wonderful.

  ‘Guess what?’ said Grandad. ‘Your appendix hadn’t ruptured.’ He held up his thumb and index finger just millimetres apart. ‘But you came this close.’

  ‘Really?’ said Alice.

  ‘Yep. They yanked it out in time.’ He laughed. ‘You’re very lucky.’

  ‘Don’t feel lucky,’ said Alice around the icy-pole.

  ‘Well, you are,’ said Grandad. ‘I should know. My appendix did rupture.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Alice.

  ‘You get to go home in a couple of days,’ continued Grandad. ‘Although apparently you need to poo first.’ Alice groaned. ‘With a ruptured appendix, you would have been stuck in hospital for at least seven days. And all sorts of problems could have happened.’ Grandad hesitated for a moment, as if unsure whether to go on. ‘I nearly died.’

  ‘What?’ Alice almost choked.

  ‘Yes,’ explained Grandad. ‘When your appendix ruptures, pus spreads through your abdomen, which can cause an infection. If it’s not cleaned out quick-smart, it can be fatal. I was very fortunate the RFDS were able to get me to a hospital as quickly as they did. Without them, I probably wouldn’t have made it.’ He paused. ‘Of course, the danger isn’t over after the operation. You can still get a pretty nasty post-op infection, which is what happened to me. I ended up with peritonitis and was in hospital for almost three weeks.’

  ‘Peri … peri-ta-whatsis?’

  ‘Peritonitis,’ said Grandad. ‘It’s an inflammation of the abdomen. And it’s very painful, I can tell you. So I was hooked up to the IV for ages being pumped full of medicines. I wasn’t allowed to eat, I lost so much weight. It was terrible.’

  Alice stopped sucking on her icy-pole and stared at her Grandad. How come he’d never told her before?

  ‘Mind you, things are better these days. Procedures have improved. Medicines are more effective. It’s not as dangerous now as it was fifty-five years ago.’ He smiled. ‘Still, I’m very glad that you didn’t have a ruptured appendix.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Alice, finishing off her icy-pole. She had a sudden vision of her appendix being plucked out of her by a surgeon, all pink and plump and whole. She wondered if she’d feel any different without it.

  Pretty soon the nurse came back. ‘If you’re feeling okay, we’ll move you to a recovery room.’

  ‘I’m fee
ling okay,’ said Alice with a big smile. ‘But will my body be all right without an appendix?’

  ‘You’ll be just fine without one,’ explained the nurse patiently. ‘The human body doesn’t really need the appendix to function properly. In fact, for many years doctors thought that the appendix had no real purpose.’

  ‘But it does have a purpose?’ asked Alice.

  ‘Well, yes,’ admitted the nurse. ‘The current theory is that it stores good bacteria when you’re unwell.’

  ‘So it’s not good that I don’t have one anymore?’ Alice was feeling a little worried.

  ‘Believe me, your body will be a lot better now that it’s gone.’ The nurse smiled and went to get an orderly to move the bed.

  Alice couldn’t help thinking about her missing appendix. Missing? Her hand suddenly went up to her throat. ‘Dad’s gold.’

  ‘Right here,’ said Grandad. He reached into his pocket, pulled out the necklace and handed it to her.

  Some time after Alice had gone to sleep, nurses came to wake her up. They kept talking about wind and bowels, and also how she needed to wee.

  Half asleep and fuzzy from painkillers, Alice was helped out of bed and brought to the toilet. She managed a little wee. The whole process was very dreamlike. In fact, come morning, Alice wasn’t even sure that it had really happened.

  A nurse bustled in and woke Alice, insisting she had to go to the toilet again. With the drip attached to a tall metal stand that was wheeled along with her, the nurse guided her to the bathroom. It hurt to walk – a lot – but the nurse said it was necessary.

  Alice did another wee, which seemed to make the nurse rather happy indeed.

  Then Alice went back to sleep.

  Alice yawned. She was bored, lying in the hospital bed. Her hand absently inched up to her throat to play with the necklace, rolling the little gold nugget between her fingers.

  ‘Did Dad have his appendix out?’ she asked suddenly.

  ‘Huh?’ Grandad looked up from the book he was reading. ‘Your dad? No, he didn’t. I guess it skipped a generation.’ He chuckled. ‘Mind you, he did end up in hospital for lots of other reasons when he was a kid. Let’s see … Broken arm when he fell off a horse. Broken leg when he fell out of a tree. Stitches after he jumped into a lake and scraped himself on a branch. He was quite the adventurer, your dad. He hated being in hospital. Even with his arm or leg in a cast, he was still off doing things. Nothing kept him quiet for long. Until …’ His voice trailed off.

  Alice’s eyes met Grandad’s and they shared a silent moment of grief.

  ‘I miss him.’ Alice sighed.

  ‘I do too, honey.’ Grandad stared off into the distance. ‘I do too. Life can be so unfair sometimes.’ There was a long pause before he looked at his granddaughter. ‘But sometimes it’s wonderful. You’re okay, and I’m very thankful for that. And every time I look at you, I see a bit of him looking back at me. I should think about that more often.’

  Alice nodded, eyes welling. She fought the tears, the sob that was caught in her throat and the memories of Dad’s last days.

  ‘Be strong,’ he had said to her. ‘Be strong for your mother.’

  She had been. So strong. But now she realised that being strong meant locking him away, buried deep beneath other memories.

  With a rattling gasp, a floodgate suddenly opened and everything came pouring out. The memories. The bottled-up grief. The tears. The sobs. And the love she still felt for her absent father – her daddy.

  And then Grandad was next to her. Holding her. Stroking her hair and whispering, ‘No one can keep it in forever.’

  ‘Lunch!’ a man pushing a trolley stopped outside the room. Alice and Grandad looked around, their moment together interrupted. ‘Everything okay?’ the man asked uncertainly as he saw Alice and Grandad.

  ‘We’re fine,’ said Grandad. ‘Just having a bit of a cry.’

  ‘Oh!’ The guy went on, hesitantly. ‘Are you ready for lunch … or would you like me to come back later?’

  Alice’s tummy rumbled.

  ‘Now would be good,’ said Grandad, returning to his chair.

  ‘Okay,’ said the man, not sounding entirely convinced. He carried in a tray with food under a metal lid, and put it down on the tray-table. He then pushed the table so that its base and wheels went under Alice’s bed, with the tabletop suspended over her bed, right in front of her.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said, as he left. He seemed rather eager to get out of there.

  Alice lifted the lid to reveal a little plastic bowl of chicken soup, an orange juice and a tub of green jelly. She was disappointed.

  ‘You’ve just had your guts operated on,’ said Grandad, leaning back in the chair. ‘You need to start slow.’

  Alice tucked in. It tasted good. She was so hungry that pretty much anything would have tasted delicious.

  ‘I might go and get myself something,’ said Grandad. ‘Watching you eat is making me ravenous. You going to be okay on your own for a bit?’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Alice. ‘And … thanks.’

  ‘Anytime.’ He nodded and headed out.

  ‘Grandad,’ Alice called after him. He stopped in the doorway to look back. ‘I love you!’

  ‘Love you too, honey. Love you, too.’

  Alice was finishing off her jelly when a nurse bustled into the room. She was savouring every spoonful, but it was almost gone. And she was still hungry.

  ‘Hello there,’ the nurse said cheerily, then checked the chart that hung on the end of the bed. ‘Now, what do we have here?’ she mumbled to herself as she read. ‘Appendix, huh?’

  It was a different nurse again. Alice noticed that they seemed to change quite regularly. This one wore a nametag that said ‘Pam’.

  ‘Ah,’ said Pam. ‘Looks like we’re going to get you up and about properly today.’

  Alice groaned. She didn’t feel like getting out of bed. Moving around was still uncomfortable.

  ‘Best to be active as quickly as possible,’ said Pam. ‘It actually helps with the recovery and gets your bowels moving, which is really important. Don’t want to get constipated. Pushing and straining isn’t good when you’ve had a tummy operation.’

  Alice felt her face getting hotter as the nurse kept talking.

  The nurse began to do the regular checks – checks that seemed to happen way too often, as far as Alice was concerned. Even during the night, nurses kept waking her up every few hours to check her temperature, heart and blood pressure, and to ask her if she was feeling okay. She would have felt a lot better if they’d just let her sleep.

  Pam moved the tray-table aside as she checked the dressing.

  ‘How does it look?’ asked Alice.

  ‘Healing nicely. Want to see?’ Pam held back the dressing and Alice caught a glimpse of puckered skin, rough stitches and dried blood before she turned away with a squeal.

  ‘Will I have a horrible scar?’ she asked.

  ‘No.’ Pam laughed. ‘You had key-hole surgery, which involves three tiny little incisions. So you’ll only have three tiny little scars. Hardly noticeable. The days of long scars across the tummy are gone.’

  Alice wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed. A big scar might’ve been interesting. A sort-of trophy to show people. Then again, maybe it was better this way.

  Her first solo walk was painful and awkward. Alice didn’t get very far. She shuffled from one side of her bed to the other, the IV drip on a tall metal stand that had to be wheeled with her.

  The nurse seemed happy with her movement. Then she asked Alice about her ‘bowel motions’ again. Why is everyone so obsessed with poo? Alice wondered.

  The nurse came back not long after and got her out of bed again.

  And again.

  And again.

  Each time the nurse asked about her bowels. When Alice finally went to the toilet for a poo, she half expected the nurses to throw a party.

  By the end of the day, Alice was wandering up and dow
n the corridors on her own.

  The morning after, a nurse came in to remove the IV needle from the back of her hand. Alice closed her eyes. It was funny … she’d had an operation, but it was this needle that bothered her the most.

  And then she was discharged, in a taxi with Grandad and then getting on a bus.

  ‘I’ve had enough of planes,’ said Grandad. ‘Besides, the bus is cheaper.’

  Alice would have preferred otherwise. She had decided that she liked planes. If she could survive a flight in a storm – with appendicitis – she could handle anything. And she definitely wanted to fly again.

  ‘Welcome home!’ everyone shouted as Alice and Grandad walked in the door.

  The lounge room was full of people. There were streamers and balloons, and a handwritten sign with mismatched letters that said WELCOME HOME, ALICE. Also on the sign was a strange brown squiggly object after her name. She wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be a deformed sausage or something.

  She had barely gone two steps in before Mum was hugging her. It was a little too strong a hug given that she’d just had an operation, but she didn’t complain. She just hugged her back.

  She watched over Mum’s shoulder as Grandad headed towards the armchair. She mouthed the words ‘Thank you’ as he looked back at her before sitting himself down. He nodded to her.

  ‘Oh, I’ve missed you so much,’ Mum said.

  ‘It’s good to see you, Mum,’ she said quietly. ‘It’s good to be home.’

  Suddenly something attached itself to her legs. She glanced down to see Lewis, his arms wrapped around her. He looked up at her and grinned, before tearing off around the lounge room. That was about as good a welcome as she could expect from her little brother.

  Mum finally let her go and stood back. And there was Ben, standing awkwardly to one side. He looked uncomfortable, with his hands behind his back.

  ‘Got you a welcome home present,’ he said.

  ‘Yeah?’ said Alice, raising an eyebrow.

  ‘Yeah!’ said Ben. ‘It’s behind my back.’

  ‘Cool,’ said Alice. ‘Can I see it?’

  Rather than bring his hands to the front, Ben slowly turned on the spot till he was facing away from Alice. Balancing in his hands and leaning up against his back was a set of metal cricket stumps – bright pink cricket stumps.