Survivor's Guilt

by Michelle Arnold

  By the time she got upstairs with her bag of toiletries and her little tree, they were wheeling Greta back into the room.

  “Is her hematoma shrinking?” Abi asked hopefully.

  “Radiology and Dr. Khan will read the results, and when Dr. Khan makes her rounds, she’ll let you know,” an orderly explained.

  Abi sighed, looking at Greta. She put the tree on the windowsill, turned the lights on, and sat down. She noticed that someone had left a newspaper in the room, bearing a sticker that said Compliments of Peoria Memorial Volunteer Association. So every patient got a free newspaper, even if they were in a coma. She picked it up and looked at the cover story. Unsurprisingly, the front-page story was all about the plane crash. There was a big picture of the plane parts strewn all over a field and a headline that read, CRASH NEAR PEORIA KILLS 193 OUT OF 194 PASSENGERS, ENTIRE FLIGHT CREW.

  Abi read it again. 193 out of 194 passengers. That made Greta for certain the only survivor on the whole plane.

  She turned on the TV to confirm this. The news channels were all talking about the crash, and they all said the same thing: only one person had survived. The survivor had been airlifted to Peoria Memorial. There was an expert on one channel talking about why the plane crashed and how lucky it was that it had crashed out in a field and not in the city.

  “Had it landed in the city, we’d have a lot more lives lost,” he said. “Not only all the passengers on board, but also a number of people on the ground.”

  “Not all the passengers on board died,” another person remarked. “There is one survivor.”

  “Yes, one,” the expert said dismissively. “But that person was taken to the hospital in critical condition, so it remains to be seen if they really will survive.”

  Abi angrily turned off the television and turned back to Greta. She was startled to see that the redhead’s eyes were now open.

  “Greta!” she said, jumping up.

  But Greta didn’t look at her. She didn’t really seem to be looking at anything.

  “Greta?” Abi questioned, moving so she would be in Greta’s line of sight. “Sweetie, I’m here. Can you hear me?”

  Greta blinked, but her eyes didn’t focus.

  Abi ran out into the hall. “I need someone in here!” she shouted. Toni, the day nurse, walked out of the nurses’ station. “She opened her eyes, but she doesn’t seem to see or hear anything. What does that mean?” Abi asked.

  Toni went into Greta’s room and began examining her. She couldn’t get Greta to track anything with her eyes, but when she applied pressure to her nail beds, Greta made a small noise and jerked her hand back a little.

  “Is she starting to wake up?” Abi asked.

  “She’s in a vegetative state,” Toni said.

  Abi shuddered. “A vegetative state? Like one of those people you hear about who never moves again and stays on life support?”

  “You’re thinking of a persistent vegetative state,” Toni explained. “That’s what it’s called when they get stuck there and it doesn’t change. What it means for Greta is that she’s awake, in a manner of speaking, but she’s still not aware of her surroundings. And hopefully, that means she’s on her way to coming back to us.”

  Abi nodded, relieved.

  It was strange having Greta lying there with her eyes open, but not seeing anything. Abi decided, since Greta was trying to come back, she would talk to her some more. She brought Greta’s hand to her lips and began telling her all over again how much she loved her and wanted to be with her. She would tell her this every day, she decided, until she could be sure Greta understood.

  “I am all yours now,” she promised. “All yours. I never want it to be any other way.”

  Dr. Khan came into the room and smiled at her. “I heard she’s progressed to a vegetative state.”

  “Yeah, if you can call that progress,” Abi said.

  “It means there’s increased activity in her brain. And I’m not surprised by that, because the CT scan shows her subdural hematoma is shrinking.”

  Abi looked up. “Really?”

  “Yes, I think she might avoid surgery after all.” She examined Greta as she spoke. “Her brain swelling has gone down a little. She’s breathing above the vent. Toni noted that as well.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “She’s taking breaths on her own before the vent does it for her. I might have them go ahead and take her off the vent. We can switch her to an oxygen mask for now. We don’t like to leave the vent in any longer than necessary.” She lifted Greta’s gown and palpated her abdomen. “It looks like the internal bleeding may be improving as well. She doesn’t feel as rigid.”

  Abi nodded, noting the dark, distended appearance of Greta’s abdomen. Every reminder of all Greta’s poor body had been through made her want to cry, but she held it in. “So overall, she’s improving.”

  “Yes.” Dr. Khan smiled. “She’s not out of the woods yet, but any improvement is a good thing.”

  Abi hesitated. “The newspaper says there was only one survivor from the crash.”

  “Yes, that would be your Greta. She’s created a lot of buzz around here.”

  “I’m glad if only one person could survive that it was Greta,” Abi said. “But I don’t think she’s going to see it that way. I think we should keep her from finding out as long as we possibly can.”

  “I’ll make sure the staff knows not to mention it around her. Everyone has already been informed that talking to the press about our patient will result in full reprimands, and we’re limiting who comes in contact with her as much as we can to trusted senior staff members. We are committed to her privacy.”

  Abi nodded. “I appreciate that. And I’ll be careful not to turn the news on anymore, at least until they find something else to talk about.”

  Dr. Khan looked at Abi carefully. “So how are you doing?”

  Abi frowned. “I’m not the patient. Why does it matter how I’m doing?”

  “You’re the patient’s support, and you can’t support her if you don’t take care of yourself.”

  “You don’t need to ask how I’m doing. How Greta’s doing, that’s how well I’m doing. When she gets better, I’ll feel better too.”

  “Okay. Well, Greta is getting all the nourishment she needs through her IV. Have you been eating and hydrating?”

  Abi made a face. “Sue brought me graham crackers and juice last night.”

  Dr. Khan chuckled. “Why don’t you go downstairs to the cafeteria and get a real meal, and if all goes well, Greta will be off the ventilator when you get back.”

  Abi looked at Greta, whose eyes were still open but vacant. The prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen. Why hadn’t she ever told Greta that? She could see Greta struggling to draw breath on her own even as the ventilator continued dutifully pumping oxygen into her lungs for her. This was someone who desperately wanted to live, who was fighting like hell to come back to Abi. And Abi needed to be in fighting condition too, because she suspected Greta would be depending on her for some time to come.

  “Okay,” Abi said resolutely. “I’ll go have lunch, and then I’ll come back.” She bent down and gently kissed Greta’s forehead, hoping there was some chance she could feel it. “I’ll be back soon, beautiful lady,” she said softly. “I love you so much.”

  She just got a hamburger and a Coke in the cafeteria because she wasn’t that hungry, but once she started eating, she became ravenous and ended up going back for the salad bar and then dessert. She checked her phone and found three voicemails from Sylvia and one from Patty (Greta’s agent), in addition to a bunch of text messages from Lola. She answered Lola to let her know how Greta was doing, but she wanted to wait until she had a little more privacy before calling Greta’s mother and agent.

  She finished eating and went back into the gift shop, this time delving in a little deeper. Most of their gifts were pretty cheesy, but she found a small collection of books in the back corner, and there was a murder mystery
by an author Greta liked. Abi couldn’t remember if Greta had read this one or not, but it didn’t matter right now. She went ahead and bought it.

  When she got back to the room, the ventilator was gone, and Greta was breathing all by herself underneath an oxygen mask. But her eyes were now closed.

  “She’s gone back to sleep,” Abi said in distress.

  “She’ll have sleeping and waking cycles now that she’s in the vegetative state,” Toni assured her. “I think she’s doing great, given the circumstances.”

  Abi breathed a sigh of relief. “I don’t think I could take it if she started going backwards.”

  Toni smiled. “This one’s a fighter. She couldn’t be here if she wasn’t. She managed to stay alive while everyone around her died. When we see someone pull through something like this, we always say they must have something really important to live for.” She looked at Abi. “I think I have a pretty good guess what that is.”

  Abi looked at Greta sadly, thinking again of the night before she left. She just wanted to kiss me. Why didn’t I let her kiss me?

  “As far as I can tell, I’m the only one she texted when the plane was crashing,” Abi said thickly. “She just told me she loved me.”

  “See, you’re the last thought she had before the crash, and you know you have to be the thought that’s keeping her going now.”

  “I hope so,” whispered Abi. “I just hope I’ll be enough…to get her through this…”

  Toni squeezed Abi’s shoulder. “Look how much you’ve already done.”

  She left, and Abi returned to her chair, taking Greta’s hand and lifting her fingers to her lips. “I’m back,” she said hoarsely. “I’m glad to see you off the ventilator already. This has to be a lot more comfortable.”

  Greta slept on, breathing evenly. Abi decided to let her sleep, so she went to the other side of the room to make her phone calls. She called Sylvia first, giving her the full rundown on Greta’s condition and assuring her she didn’t need to come to Illinois.

  “I’m sure she’ll love to see you later on, but right now she’s not even aware of her surroundings, and her doctor says she’ll be disoriented at first when she does come to. I don’t want to overwhelm her. But I’ll keep in touch, and I’ll let you know when she’s ready, okay?”

  “I’m canceling all my engagements,” Sylvia said crisply. “I’m in Italy right now. I’ll stay here until you tell me to come. And if you get any press vultures, call me right away and I’ll deal with them.”

  Patty didn’t offer to come to Illinois, but she wanted more medical information than Abi was willing to give. She kept pressing for more detail, clearly wishing she could speak directly to the doctor.

  “Look, I’ve given you all the information you need,” Abi finally said. “I currently have power of attorney, which means you will not tell the press anything besides what I tell you to tell them. And all I’m authorizing you to tell them is that she has survived, she’s critical but stable, and her family wishes for privacy at this time. And every time someone from the press calls asking for your take on her being the only survivor of the crash, you keep telling them to feck off until the calls dry up and they find a new tragedy to worry about.”

  Patty sighed. “I suppose she won’t care, but this could be a turning point in her career. Everyone will be so fascinated with an actress who was the only survivor of a plane crash.”

  “Greta would never want that sort of publicity. The medical staff, her mother, and I are all in agreement that she should be kept from knowing that she is the only survivor for as long as possible. She won’t take it well. She’s a caring person, and she’ll feel bad for all the others. She’s someone who shies away from too much attention anyway, and she wouldn’t consider this positive attention.”

  “It will be, though! People will see her as a miracle!”

  “She will never view it that way, and let me remind you that as her agent, you work for her. And you are not coming near her until I say you can, which will not be until she’s better. So if you breathe a word to the press outside of what I just authorized you to say, or attempt to schedule any kind of future interview for Greta regarding this crash, you will find yourself without a client. Do you understand me?”

  “Fine,” Patty sighed. “I think she’s missing a great opportunity, but fine. I’m sure that’s what she’ll say when she’s able to as well. Send her my best wishes for her recovery.”

  “Yeah, of course you want her to recover. How else will you make money off of her?” Abi snapped.

  She sensed that her anger was getting out of control, so she hung up before she could say anything regrettable. Patty could be pushy, and she was always looking for the dollar signs in every situation, but she did care about Greta, and it wasn’t her fault the plane had crashed.

  She noticed Greta’s eyes were open again and rushed across the room, taking her hand. “Hey there, love!” she said. “You’re awake again. Can you…can you hear me?”

  Greta blinked, but her eyes remained unfocused, her face impassive. Abi knew she was in there somewhere, though. Otherwise, she couldn’t be fighting this hard to live.

  “Well, if you can hear me, you’re in luck, because I found a book you’ll like. You might have read it before – I can’t remember – but it’s one of your favorite authors, so I’m sure you won’t mind reading it again.” Abi thought that reading out loud to Greta could be good for her. If she could hear at all, the familiar sound of Abi’s voice might be soothing to her. If not, then at least it would pass the time for Abi. So she opened the book to the first chapter and began to read.

  12

  Progress

  Greta’s CT scan the next morning showed that her subdural hematoma was continuing to shrink.

  “She’s not going to need surgery for that. She was lucky,” Dr. Khan told Abi. “The swelling in her brain is continuing to go down. Things could have been a lot worse.”

  “Yeah.” Abi looked down at the sleeping woman. “It could have been a lot worse. I’m surprised she doesn’t have any burns. It looked like the whole of first class was in flames, but I guess it wasn’t that easy to tell which part of the plane was which on TV.”

  “First class did go up in flames. Everyone in that section died.”

  Abi looked up, startled. “But Greta always flies first class.”

  “They found her in coach, right next to a girl who was already dead from a crushing injury. She was upside down in her seat, but buckled in, which saved her life.”

  Abi frowned. “I wonder what she was doing there. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad she was there, but I’ve never known her to fly coach. I mean, she’d never have to. She’s loaded.”

  “Well, she ended up there somehow this time. Otherwise she definitely wouldn’t have lived.”

  “She’s even luckier than we realized,” Abi noted.

  Greta’s eyes opened, and Abi expected the vacant stare to resume, but this time her eyes moved around a little before landing on Abi.

  “I…I think she knows I’m here,” Abi said in awe.

  Abi, Greta mouthed inside her oxygen mask.

  “I’m here,” Abi said, fresh tears springing to her eyes.

  Greta made an unintelligible noise in her throat and then grabbed awkwardly at her oxygen mask, trying to pull it off.

  “Maybe she’s ready to switch to a nasal cannula,” suggested Dr. Khan. She found a cannula and swapped it with the mask, but Greta’s fingers quickly found the IV port in her neck and tugged at it.

  “No, honey, you have to leave that in,” Abi said, gently pulling Greta’s hand away. “That’s how you have to get your fluids and medicine right now.”

  “Abi,” Greta whispered, her eyes once again locking on the woman in front of her. She reached for Abi’s face.

  “I’m here,” Abi said again, taking Greta’s hand and kissing it. “I’m not going anywhere. I love you so much. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

  “I
love you,” Greta said weakly, her words a little slurred but still understandable.

  “Greta, it’s so good to finally meet you,” said Dr. Khan, beaming. “I’m Dr. Khan, your treating physician here at Peoria Memorial.” Greta’s eyes moved to her, but quickly moved back to Abi. “She’s not too impressed with me,” Dr. Khan chuckled. “It’s clear that you’re the one she wants to see. I need to finish my rounds.”

  “Wait,” said Abi. “What does this mean? Is she out of the coma now?”

  “Not entirely. This is what we call a minimally conscious state. She’s finally becoming aware of her surroundings, but she doesn’t quite comprehend much of what she’s seeing.” The doctor smiled again. “But she understands that her Abi is here.”

  Abi smiled down at Greta after Dr. Khan left the room. She wasn’t sure what to say next, but then she remembered Sue saying that Greta wouldn’t be able to remember the plane crash.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked Greta gently.

  “Hurt,” Greta said with a grimace.

  “Yeah, you were in a plane crash.”

  “Plane?”

  “Yeah. You were coming home from that charity event in LA. The plane went down in Illinois. That’s where we are now.”

  Greta blinked. “Jordan.”

  “Jordan?”

  Greta nodded slightly. “I saw Jordan,” she slurred.

  “You saw him?” The blood drained from Abi’s face. That couldn’t be good, could it? Had Greta been that close to death?

  “I saw you,” Greta continued.

  Abi smiled in relief. Greta had just been dreaming. “You saw me too?”

  “Naked.”

  Abi raised her eyebrows. “You saw me naked?”

  Greta smiled.

  “Sounds like you’ve been having an interesting time. Look, I’m sorry about not letting you kiss me before you left. I’ve been kicking myself. I wanted you to kiss me, I did, but I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time, and I’m so used to telling myself I can’t do it, I guess it just became a reflex. I should have let you.”