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Jack sits down to my left, so I’m sandwiched in between them. It feels nice and extremely nerve-wracking in the same breath. “Paul Cooper is hard to miss. I would have thought you’d intern for your father.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Family and business can be, but it doesn’t have to be so.” Andy pats the top of my folded hands.
“I’ve noticed.”
We sit there for a split second in silence, until it’s quickly broken by the sound of footsteps coming toward us. I look up from the athletic-style shoes that enter my line of sight. Following the royal blue scrubs upward to a beautiful woman, who appears to be in her late thirties or early forties. The name on her white coat is Katie Collier, MD underscored with Neurosurgeon. She has flowing, dark black hair that’s pulled back in a full bun at the base of her neck.
“Good morning, Mr. Sawyer.”
“Dr. Collier. Good morning. Do we have an update?”
Eli’s grandfather’s hand clamps down a bit over mine. It’s a physical sign of him holding his breath. “Well, we have good news and news that remains to be seen.”
“Tell us something good first,” Jack says.
“Elijah has been relatively stable since he was brought in. The vent has been keeping his oxygen levels up, which is helping us in the fight with any conditions that could arise other than his brain injury. However, the swelling in his head hasn’t started to decrease yet, which could mean we will have to go in surgically. I’m only comfortable giving it a maximum of another four hours to see a marked decline in pressure. If not, I have an operating room and team on standby for tonight or sooner, should something emergent arise.”
“Are you expecting that?” I ask.
“Dr. Collier, this is Dylan Cooper. She is Elijah’s girlfriend.”
I haven’t heard it said like that before. He’s never said it. I’ve never said it. His father just said it like he’s done it a thousand times. It takes all the air from my chest. I quietly offer her my hand while I wait for her answer. “Hello, Dylan. The answerto your question is complicated.” She sits down in the chair beside us. “We’ve kept Elijah in a coma so his brain will need less oxygen to function. I know it sounds counterintuitive but it’s a good thing. We are also giving him medication to keep his overall pressure down. That’s what I’m hoping will help.”
“If it doesn’t?” I ask.
“If it doesn’t, we will do a burr hole procedure. I know that sounds scary and it is, but it’s common. We drill small holes in the skull in the area that needs the blood taken away. If we have to, we can leave a drain in to assure all the fluid has been removed. These incisions can be closed with sutures or staples.”
I feel a flutter in my belly and a heaviness in my head. I’m feeling completely flushed, but a shiver runs from my hands down my spine at the same time. “I need to see him. May I see him?”
I try to stand up and don’t even make it before Jack slides a hand to my back and Dr. Collier takes both of my hands. “Sit down slowly, Dylan.” She rotates her fingers over my pulse, glancing at the ticks of her watch. Andy hands me a small glass of water. “Your rate is a little elevated. Drink that cup slowly. Just sips and take a few deep breaths.”
“Please. I need to see him,” I beg.
Dr. Collier holds her hand over my knee, weighting it to the ground. “If the Sawyers sign off on it, and you won’t pass out on us, then I think I can get you in.”
Tilting the paper cup in my hand, I pull it to my lips and feel it shake. “I’ll be alright.” That’s a lie. I won’t be all right until Eli is.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Dylan
I’ve never had to be in a hospital like this. No one close to me has ever been really sick, or worse, in my life. Both sets of my grandparents died when I was too young to remember. My mom and dad are healthy. I’ve only seen the inside of an emergency room with an occasional ankle or knee injury. Wes gave me the rundown outside. I acted like I knew what I was in for. I didn’t.
Our waiting area is outside of the bays of rooms. There’s a glass wall and these heavy security doors that separate the two. Jack comes with me to sign in and have the nurse allow us back. The buzz of the door alone makes me jump as the door begins to swing wide to let us pass.
Everything feels so different on the inside of the wall. It’s like another world. There’s one large central desk. This seems to be where all the doctors, nurses, and care staff meet. To each side is a wing of five rooms. They’re all enclosed with more sliding glass doors and privacy curtains. Each room has its own story. Each room represents a family and someone they love.
“Eli is in room four.” Jack points around the back of the desk. I’m taking in so many noises at once I don’t even know where to begin. There’s the low hum of conversation at, and around, the main desk. There are beeps, buzzes, and alarms at the same desk but in varying volumes from every room. There is a whoosh every time a door opens or closes on one of the suites.
The smells I think are the worst. I feel like my head is in a bucket of sanitizer. As if I wasn’t sick to my stomach enough, my nose nearly burns from the chemical smell. We stop outside of Eli’s room. Jack motions toward an upside-down foam bottle on the wall. We both pull a pump into our hands before Jack opens Eli’s door wider.
I look down at the track of the door on the floor. It’s like the edge of a cliff. Once you go over, there’s no coming back. Jack ventures inside past the curtain, sending it along its own separate track. I can see the foot of the bed. There’s a blue woven blanket over him with a thinner white one on top of that. His legs are perfectly still.
I feel this large lump in my throat. I can do this. I have to be close and let him know I’m here. Jack turns to me. “Dylan? It’s all right. Come in.” He extends his hand across more than the simple few inches we’re apart. He’s offering to be a bridge through my fear to be with Eli. I reach for his hand to take my first step across that threshold.
The light is dim throughout the room. Even the shades on the two small windows are mostly drawn. All of the light is focused on Elijah’s body. It’s like it’s lit with a spotlight. Wes, for the first time since I’ve known him, understated things when he said Eli was in rough shape. His gown is only attached at his right shoulder. His left arm is in a splint and tied across his chest in a sling. It looks like a bird’s broken wing.
