How to Catch Butterflies

by Samantha Fontien

  Jason stood by his car, deep in thought, contemplating whether he should just get in his car and drive to let her cool off or what to do. He knew how upset she was by what she had said to him. The scene replayed again in his head, she had made her point and then some.

  He leaned against the car wondering, if he should just go back and take her in his arms. His phone rang startling him as it was inside his breast pocket shaking him back to reality it was the same business call from earlier on.

  Lifting the phone to his ear he spoke, while looking at Rebecca’s place his face saddened. He reluctantly got into the car, connecting his hands free continuing his call. He drove off in the direction of home to gather another suitcase to troubleshoot a situation. He would be gone for a week.

  He had no choice but to let Rebecca cool down in her own time hopefully within the week he thought. He knew her temper all too well; she should have been a red head, not a dirty blond. Time was what she needed, especially after everything she had been through.

  Once finished at home, Jason locked up his house. Walking towards the car he clicked the button for the boot to open as it gracefully ascend up, he popped the case in pushing the boot down got into his car.

  He looked at his phone wondering should he call her. That was put to rest as another call came in. It was Morgan Lee. Jason’s ever loyal P.A. informing him of his flight details. She was sending them now and to call her once he checked in.

  **

  A week later on the flight back his thoughts were only for Rebecca. Jason was delighted they touched down a little earlier than expected. Seeing as he had boarded with his cabin sized case as he intended to avoid the luggage retrieval, something he learned when he first started traveling. It meant he could hopefully beat the rush hour traffic from the airport to Rebecca’s work.

  Unfortunately there had been an accident on the motorway.

  Jason didn’t pull the car up outside Rebecca’s till close to 7pm. He jumped out of the car and walked to the gate he had jumped over not so long ago. He opened the gate and walked the familiar path to Rebecca’s front door.

  He felt the familiar vibration of his phone against his chest. Jason’s hand swooped inside his jacket and swiftly placed it against his ear in one move. Jason’s other hand reaching for the button of Rebecca’s doorbell. The doorbell rang and in unison he turned, heading out the gate moving rapidly into his car.

  Jason was visibly shocked; he finished the call pulling off, narrowly missing an approaching car which had squealed to a halt.

  He took a deep breath and placed a call. “Morgan I need you to arrange a flight ASAP to the Canaries” he tried to control his voice as he spoke.

  “What’s happened Jason?’ she asked concern in her voice.

  “Jesus Morgan, just book the fucking ticket and arrange car hire for when I get there will you,” he snapped.

  Alarmed as Jason never lost his cool, she knew there was something seriously wrong. Morgan knew that’s where Jason’s parents lived.

  “Sure Jason, no problem. You head to the Airport; I’ll send you the details on route. If you need me

  I’m here.”

  He placed the phone back into his pocket next to his passport. He drove to the airport and parked up. Grabbing his case and made for the entrance looking for the appropriate checking in desk.

  His phone vibrated again as his hand dived into his breast pocket with urgency, it was Morgan Lee.

  “Jason, I have you booked on the next flight out, which is at 22.15. I’ve arranged the car hire so once you’ve landed go to the Car hire desk. I’ve sent you your booking references, if you need me just call okay. I’m here if you need me,” trying to reassuring him.

  “Thanks Morgan, don’t know what I’d do without you. And Morgan, I’m sorry for swearing at you.”

  “No problems Jason, if I can do anything just ask. I’ll hold all your calls so don’t worry about a thing.”

  He smiled with relief. He knew she could cover him while he was away. He placed the phone back into his pocket.

  His flight was called to board 20 minutes later from the original departure time. Everyone took their seats and waited for the safety announcement/demo. A pretty young glamorous stewardess stood in front of him giving him the eye continuingly as she demonstrated the procedure moving in unison with her collogues conducting the same performance throughout the cabin.

  He closed his eyes, he had heard this a million times and could probably do the demo himself. The flight was only three and a half hours and he knew he needed to sleep. He knew he had a long night ahead of him.

  The plane taxied towards the runway, he heard the engines build, the noise increasing, the plane accelerated down the runway and took off.

  When Jason stepped onto the tarmac, he could feel the blast of heat and it was only the night. He was surprised at how quick customs had got through the huge cue of people, and he made his way to the Car Hire to pick up his vehicle. He knew he was agitated; all he wanted to do was to get to the hospital.

  Once he sat in the car, he took a deep breath and started to drive. He arrived at the hospital 45 minutes later rushing to the intensive care unit. Jason was met by his hysterical mum. She ran into Jason’s arms sobbing.

  “Mum, what’s happening? How is he?”

  “Oh Jason, they think it was a heart attack,” she spoke through the sobbing. “I was out with Magda shopping we came home and found him unconscious on the floor,” she sobbed uncontrollably.

  They all stood outside his father’s glazed unit in the Cauterization Lab. His mum was tightly holding his hand. He could feel her damp tissue she held clutched in her hand. She had obviously been crying into it. His heart broke for her.

  “Oh Jas, he has to be okay. What will I do without him?” She clung to him in despair.

  He tried to comfort her, as she buried her head in her big strong boy’s chest. It brought tears to his eyes. There was his big strong dad, lying there, looking so helpless and tubes coming out of him. It was pitiful.

  “Where are the doctors?” he asked hoping Magda their housekeeper could tell him more information.

  “Señor Hallow, we find him on the floor, poor Señora Hallow,” and she too then started crying into her hand of tissues.

  Thankfully a doctor approached them, “Señor Hallow?”

  Jason nodded his head, patiently listening to every word he said. His mother taking her face out of her son’s chest, both were looking at the doctor for answers. They looked in through the wall of glass, shocked by all of the machines and tubes attached to his body. Beeping and hissing noises coming from his father’s room.

  “We are awaiting the results from the chest x-ray and the cat scan. It’s to rule out a stroke. We are also awaiting the lab tests results.” His tone softer as he continued, “Being in the Cath Lab does indicate that he is very sick. I can't really tell how bad he is until we have all the results of the tests. As your father is unresponsive, we have placed him on a ventilator.” He looked directly at them.

  “Now we have sedated him, as he was found unconscious, it could be a worst case scenario here but there a possibility there may be some brain damage. It could be due to a stroke.”

  Jason’s mother howled, “Stroke?”

  “However, just give him some time to see how he evolves and don't lose your hope.” He smiled trying to reassure them. “I’ve seen people leave the hospital from a lot worst case situations. Never give up hope.” And with that, he was gone just as quick as he had arrived.

  Jason comforted his mum, who had now collapsed to a heap, hysterical. He asked Magda if she would take her home. He didn’t want her upset anymore.

  Jason entered his father’s glazed room and sat in the chair positioned beside the bed. He looked at his Dad and placed his hand on his, squeezing it gently. It was alarming to see him like this he had always been so strong. Jason was shocked by all of the machines and tubes attached to his body, it all just looked so hopeless. He was on a b
reathing ventilator; there were tubes everywhere, constant beeping and hissing. It felt and sounded so unnatural.

  He pulled his chair closer to the bed and hung his head down, his forehead softly touching his father’s arm and there it stayed all night along with his hand. He could feel the tears leave his eyes, he felt so helpless. He eventually fell asleep, awaking when the nurses came into to check his Dad.

  The night dragged on, Jason found the chair rather uncomfortable. He found all the machines a bit imposing and as the morning’s shift nurses had come in he took the opportunity to get some air.

  When he returned, one of the nurses had left him a tray of breakfast, which he was very grateful for.

  A senior consultant arrived into the glazed room, looking through his father’s charts, and talking to the young doctors that had accompanied him.

  Poor Jason stood at door listening to the consultant instruct the young doctors. At least he was finding out what was going on as none of the nurses told him anything and didn’t understand him. He listened on. He felt like he was suddenly ‘overloaded’ with information making his head spin until he heard the consultant say something about ‘Sudden cardiac death results.’

  And that alone made the color from his face drain. As the doctors filled passed him, he re-entered the room. How would he explain any of this to his mother? He paced that room several times that day; when he wasn’t holding his dad’s hand, he wanted him to know he was there.

  Later that day they were told by his doctor that he had actually suffered a massive heart attack. They had the results in confirming this.

  “It’s probably a 50/50 chance at this point of him surviving it. It really depends on which heart tissue had suffered.” Jason stood there hanging on every word.

  “People survive heart attacks all the time, but usually because they get treated at the first sign of one, as opposed to after you collapse and stop breathing.” The doctor could see Jason’s reaction.

  “Well, it definitely indicates he is in a critical state.” He continued. “So he needs heart surgery. People do recover. In the short term, it means that the medical team are doing everything they can to reduce the chances of a second attack. The long term is impossible to predict.” Poor Jason’s mouth hung open with shock.

  The doctor having seen his reactions, he asked him out into the corridor as the machines continued to beep and hiss. He pointed indicating for them to take a seat on the bench. He tried to lighten the conversation with his tone

  “We doctors will throw around a lot of terminology at you that leaves you wishing you had a computer in front of you during THAT conversation like now,” he said looking at Jason’s bewildered face. “I understand your worry, let me explain. We are going to have a look at what the coronary arteries are doing in there.”

  Jason nodded his head.

  “Your coronary arteries are the blood supply that feeds the heart, which for obvious reasons is very important. No blood supply means no working heart. Only problem we have at the moment is the Cardiologist who will be doing the Cath, will want the patient awake or at least responsive to pain.”

  “And Dad hasn’t woken up yet.” Jason looked helplessly at the doctor.

  “Yes, but he can at any moment and as soon as he does. We will operate. Have hope,” he put his hand on Jason’s shoulder and walked off.

  Jason returned to his father’s room and sat down in his chair, clutching his father’s hand.

  “Dad, you have to wake up. We need you and mum needs you,” he squeezed his hand hoping he would get a response of a squeeze back.

  The only response he received was the constant beeping and hissing of the machines. He buried his head in his other hand as it moved through his hair as Jason breathed heavily out.

  Later that morning something happened. It was while he was holding his dad’s hand he felt it. He ran out into the corridor shouting, “Quick, quick, please, someone come quickly please” as a nurse ran towards him following Jason into the room. His father had woken up.

  Later that day, Jason’s father was taken in for open heart surgery. They had discovered that the blockage in the RCA (right coronary artery). It was so small that they have to take him immediately up to theatre. Jason paced the corridor waiting for news; looking at every nurse or doctor who passed him, in the hopes they had good news for him.

  He had tried to limit his mum having to stay hours. He had sent her home earlier with Magda with the promise of a phone call with any news he had. He sat and waited. Eventually, a doctor arrived to tell him the surgery was a success and something about extubate. Jason didn’t hear anything he said after that. He was delighted, rushing outside to give his mum the good news. Later that night another doctor came in. Jason was sitting in what he affectionately called his chair.

  The doctor explained. “Surgery went well, but we were unable to extubate him,” he saw the worry on Jason’s face. “We will continue to keep trying to extubate him,” he smiled trying to give Jason some hope.

  The next four days were a blur for Jason spent in the ICU. His father was still on the vent and an array of I.V’s attached to him. He had stayed sleeping in his chair at night, not once letting his dad’s hand go. Over those four day’s they tried on many occasions to remove the tube, but to no avail.

  “Come on dad, please wake up.” Jason begged his dad after another set of doctors had left the room. “Pop’s come on, it’s Jase, please wake up for me. You have to wake up and get better mum needs you, please dad open your eyes.”

  He looked down horrified to see he was grabbing his dad’s arm with both hands as he released it seeing his handprints remaining where he had held him. He crumbled, the tears popped out of his eyes and cascading down his cheeks. As he buried his head at his dads side and sobbed like a baby.

  He awoke the next morning, his head still at his dad’s side, a doctor waiting to speak to him.

  “Señor Hallow, we will be taking your father for EEG (check for brain activity) today. Why don’t you go home and you can come back later. We should have the results back then. And of course, if there is any change we will notify you?”

  Jason could only nod his head, he was exhausted. He reluctantly went home.

  Whilst driving back to the hospital Jason received a call from the ICU, he told them he was actually only 5 minutes away. He was wondering why they were calling him, the nurse who had called only told him his father was in critical condition.

  He put his foot down and drove, willing his Dad to hold on. He felt panicked. He drew up to the hospital. Parking his hire car across two spaces in his rush and ran through the entrance doors.

  People separated, to either side of the corridors, leaving him a clear pathway as he ran to the ICU. Jason’s heart thumped in his chest as he ran. As he passed the ICU reception, he was met by a team of six nurses.

  They were very sorry; his father had passed away while he was on route to the hospital.

  Jason fell to his knees, “Oh Dad no! He can’t be! He just can’t be, not my dad…” Jason was still on his knees. The nurses were trying to help him to his feet; two had grabbed either side of his arms to steady him back up.

  “We’re sorry there was nothing we could do.” They were trying to comfort him with their words.

  “What happened? I don’t understand, wasn’t he supposed to be having an EEG? I don’t understand,” he felt so helpless. He wanted answers as the place and noises swirled around him.

  As if on cue a doctor appeared. One of the nurses spoke to him, as they walked towards Jason.