“I’m not leavin’ this hospital until you leave with me,” I said to Dash, knowing in my heart that he could hear me. “You can’t see that I look rough as hell, but you’d love it. Carter has a room here, because why wouldn’t he? I have to go there and shower. I’ll be back here as soon as I can.”
I swept a hand over his head again and leaned in to kiss his cheek before putting the mask back in place. The image of his frail body was all I could see inside my mind as I forced myself to leave his side.
I pushed through the door to three sets of eyes staring at me. The nurse spoke first. “You can discard all the items in this bin.” She pointed toward a red container by the door. I did. Not seeing me wearing too much more of that in my future. If I could crawl into bed with him, I would. A well of tears filled my eyes again, and I used my sleeve to wipe them away. My hand followed, scrubbing over my face. This was so much to take in.
“Dr. Wells, this is Beau, Dash’s husband,” Carter said.
“I don’t understand what’s happenin’,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.
“I’m Dr. Wells and I’m a pulmonologist brought in by Mr. Carter to attend to your spouse. Your husband arrived in respiratory distress that required us to sedate him and put him on a ventilator because his lungs were exhausted. This helped him breathe without exertion. Our scans and X-rays show an uncharacteristic pattern and we’ve not been able to isolate the organism as of yet. We’re treating with a number of broad-spectrum antibiotics. We have expedited specimens to the CDC for further testing so we can identify and treat appropriately. Until then, we’ll keep him comfortable. We’re trying to back off on some of the sedation to see if he starts breathing on his own. Then we’ll wean him off the ventilator. We’re feeding him through a nasogastric tube. At this time, we’re in a watch and wait situation. I’m working with the rest of the team, including an infectious disease specialist, and we’re doing everything we can at this time,” Dr. Wells said.
It was so much information to take in, but sounded like Carter had really stepped up and had things moving forward to help Dash. I couldn’t be more grateful for that, even if nothing I’d heard or seen so far had lessened my anxiety.
“Is there anything I can do?” I was desperate for a way to help.
“I do have some questions for you that might help us find the origin of the disease quicker and understand better how to help Mr. Richmond-Brooks. We’ve spoken with your family, and understand you’re the closest person to him. Do you know if he’s traveled outside of the country in the last few months?” she asked.
“Not for years now, other than the cruise we took in July. We didn’t get off the ship or take any day trips. But we were around other passengers who did.”
“Mr. Carter already gave us the cruise information and the countries where it pulled into port. Has he come into contact with anyone that recently arrived from another country?” The direction of the probe for information didn’t make any sense to me, but I tried to give her everything I knew.
“He’s an attorney in Sea Springs. We’ve traveled around the US.” I glanced at Carter who nodded in encouragement. I racked my brain. “He was workin’ on a new immigration case before I left town, but I have no idea about the client or the country. He doesn’t cross those boundaries with me.” Still, I flipped through the conversations he and I had had. Why didn’t I remember more? “Dash handled this pro-bono case on his own.” I turned to Carter, hoping for his input. “Where’s his phone? Maybe I could access it and find the information, but I don’t wanna leave him to get it. I told him I would stay.” I glanced at the doctor again. “I believe he touched my palm when I was holding his hand.”
“I told them about the eyelash flutter,” Carter interjected. “I can have Linda bring his laptop if you think that’ll help get more information. Can you access his files?”
“He handles a lot of high-profile clients. I’m not sure what info I can track down, probably nothin’. He’s protective of his clients. I’m certain his laptop’s more than password secured. How’s any of this helpful?”
“You’ve provided us with a direction,” Natalie said, making notes as I spoke. “I’ll have my staff locate the court records while we wait for the CDC to get back with us. Here’s my contact information.” She handed me a business card. “Let me know if you think of anything else or have questions.”
I held the business card as I stuffed my hands inside my jeans pockets, feeling useless. “Okay.” My glance turned sideways to Carter. “I need to shower. Can you show me where?”
“Sure,” he said. “We have a back entrance to the suite.”
I went to my bag still under the window and glanced at Dash once more. My guy was ravaged by some illness the specialists couldn’t even identify. How could that happen? A grunt slipped free as I hoisted the heavy backpack over my shoulder.
“It’s heave-ho,” Carter said as I started toward him.
“Feels heavier right now,” I answered as I trudged behind him, each step heavier than the last.
Less than an hour later, I was back beside Dash’s bed, holding his limp hand in mine, gazing intently at his peaceful sleeping expression. Well, as peaceful as anyone could be while hooked to many different machines and a tube stuck down his throat. Maybe peaceful meant pained.
Different medical staff came in and out, adjusting the machines and explaining everything to me, not that I understood a whole lot of what was going on. When the doctor came back in and told me that they felt like Dash was responding well and seemed strong enough to remove the ventilator, they ushered me out of the room.
Carter placed a comforting grip on my shoulder, my immediate gratitude had me leaning into the touch, as we sat in the waiting area. The nurse promised to get me as soon as I could go back in.
Even if Dash was the obvious star of this show, the fundamental base of who I was shifted again. Another turning point in the roads of my life. I’d never do another overseas trip alone again. And had I been home, he’d have been admitted into the hospital days earlier.
The nurse let us back in the room, and I went straight to Dash’s side.
The medical staff had warned Carter and I of the possibility of days or even weeks before Dash woke, but what if he opened his eyes right away, or what if he died without ever seeing us again? Like every other time I’d let my thoughts drift to the negative, my inner guard rose swiftly and punched out the damaging thoughts until they were little more than a pile of ash.
“I wish he had woken,” Carter said my thoughts out loud.
“The illness has taken a toll.” The voice of Dr. Well’s drew my attention. “He’s breathing on his own, which is remarkable from where he’s been. Recovery will take time. We’ll continue to monitor him…”
Carter slid a reassuring hand over my back as he moved away from the bed to speak in hushed tones. Better. I only wanted to focus on Dash.
“Here, take a seat,” the nurse, whose name I didn’t remember, pushed a heavy vinyl recliner close to Dash’s bed. I’d been awake for over thirty hours. The seat was greatly appreciated.
