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“Jake is comfortable,” he assures as he pulls the curtain back. “He’s in the best state possible.” I meet his eyes then, noting the severity of his tone. “Jake was more than lucky, Miss Wilde.”
“Please, it’s Alexis,” I say, taking a seat on the only available chair.
The doctor sets his clipboard on a rolling cart. “Alexis, Jake was lucky because he was brought in before he went into cardiac arrest. Someone cared enough to recognize the signs of overdose and brought him in.”
That someone who cared enough wasn’t me. “Do you know who?”
His weathered face contorts. “No. They didn’t stick around. As is usual in circumstances such as this.”
I nod. “But he’s going to be okay. He was revived in time.” I don’t understand all the information being thrown at me since I entered the ER, but I do understand that when a person goes into cardiac arrest, it’s only minutes…seconds…that mean the difference between a full recovery and impaired motor skills. Brain death. Or worse… God, what could be worse? Death, I answer myself. I will always take care of Jake, no matter what. Death is what I won’t be able to survive.
Doctor Taylor approaches me. “I don’t want to upset or scare you—”
“Oh, my god, he’s brain dead.”
He rests his hand on my shoulder. “No, he’s not, and Jake’s vitals are good. I can’t say with any degree of certainty, of course, but I believe Jake will recover. What is concerning, however, is now that his body has suffered to this extent, his drug use is now even more of an issue.”
I nod again, slowly processing this. As he moves toward the hospital bed to check on the ventilator, I say, “My brother will come live with me. When he’s released.”
Doctor Taylor turns to face me, his severe frown disheartening. “My advice, Alexis, is to get him into a program.”
“AA, NA, counseling…of course.”
“I’m suggesting involuntary commitment,” he says.
My mouth pops open. “But I’ve tried that. I was denied. Everyone makes it sound so easy…and maybe it is. For some people.” People with money. People with status. “So what? Now that he’s caused himself harm…almost died…he’s a candidate? What if he had died?”
He releases a heavy sigh. “Unfortunately, the system can be trying and long. Jake needs immediate treatment, and he needs to be on medication, according to his records.” He pauses. “I’ve recommended a private facility. It’s within five miles of here. With my referral, they will accept him upon his release.”
Private facility. He might as well have said Mars. I hate the words that are about to leave my mouth. I loathe them, because they make me seem pathetic. Selfish. “I can’t afford private treatment. Believe me, if I could, I would’ve gotten Jake help sooner.”
His tight smile doesn’t ease my pain. “It’s already in the process of being arranged. All that’s needed is your signature.” He grabs his clipboard from the cart and hands it to me. “You can read over the information before you sign, but I strongly suggest you do, Alexis. As his sister, as his only immediate family, it’s within your power to get him the help he needs.”
My power. Suddenly, after years of struggle, everyone is so keen to tell me about all this power I have. I press the ache between my eyes. “Doctor Taylor, I’m sorry, but I can’t afford—”
“His treatment will be covered by your insurance. All of his expenses, in fact.”
My eyes snap to his face. “What?”
“Your employer called, providing your insurance information. I have to be honest, not many bosses care enough about their employees to take care of the details. But, he didn’t want you to worry about the technicalities while you were distraught over your brother.” His eyes search me. “Mister Larkin said he’ll have the court order processed by a judge tomorrow to expedite the process. Then once Jake is released from my care, he’ll be taken directly to the facility.”
I’m sure the shock on my face doesn’t escape him. “Okay. Thank you,” I say, as if a “thank you” somehow conveys what I’m feeling. I can’t even process what I’m feeling yet.
His smile seems more sincere now. “So it’s already been handled, Alexis. You can breathe. Jake is going to get the best treatment. All that’s required is your signature.”
It erupts from me all at once. A painful sob breaks free, wracking my body. I bury my face in my hands, allowing the fear and relief to dissolve into each other as the cry wrings my body.
When I’m able to take a breath without stuttering into tears, I read the information for Jake’s care, then sign my name as his appointed guardian. Chase knew the only way for my insurance to cover Jake was if I’m legally his guardian again. In the sixteen minutes it took me to arrive—where my life was falling apart, where my brother had no chance—Chase changed everything.
As I hand the documents to the doctor, he says, “I’m moving Jake to his own room now.”
“Oh,” I say, looking at Jake, feeling like I haven’t had enough time. “Will he wake up tonight?”
That grim expression tugs at the doctor’s face again. I hate that look. “No. And I’m going to keep him under for at least a few more days. He needs to heal. His body not only needs to recover, but we have to monitor him closely through detox.”
Because he’s on heroin. Because if he has to go through detox, he’s been on heroin for a while. At least six months. I want to believe I would’ve seen the signs. If he was using heroin before he disappeared from my life, I would’ve known.
I want to believe that I was helping him at all…but I was just as lost as he was. All I did was patch the wounds as they reopened. Treat the scrapes but not fade the scars. I wasn’t offering any real remedy to heal the cause of the damage. That’s what Jake needed—what he needs.
