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We didn't talk on the way to NYP. Instead, we held hands, taking comfort from each other. I wanted to pray, but had so little faith that it felt false, but I did recite the 23rd Psalm, which I had learned as a child and which had always comforted me regardless of whether I believed it.
Once we arrived on the ward, there was nothing to do but wait for Elaine to return. She'd followed my father to the radiology department to wait while he had his CT. Drake spoke to the nurse, who said that they got the seizure under control and were doing the CT to check for a new bleed or swelling on the brain that might have caused the seizure. Drake sat back down with me and I couldn't help
but feel as if I were being punished for leaving the hospital and enjoying myself with Drake.
"I shouldn’t have left the hospital," I said, emotions overcoming me finally. "I should have stayed here."
"Nonsense," he said softly and put his arm around my shoulder. He lifted my chin with a finger and looked in my eyes. "This had nothing to do with you or me. It was a complication, not punishment from God. It was a setback. A certain percentage of people who have one event will have another. Usually, most don't. Ethan did. The surgeons will go in and fix it. End of story."
I nodded, but didn’t believe him, still too shocked to think rationally, despite my best attempts.
Elaine returned about a half an hour later and slumped down onto the couch across from us.
She leaned her head back and sighed heavily.
"How is he?" Drake asked.
She rubbed her eyes and then sat up. "He's OK. There wasn't another bleed, so that's good. There was some swelling in the brain around the malformation, so they've got him on a medication to stop the seizures and reduce the swelling. They're going to keep him really sedated for a while, so he can recover."
"He's going to be OK?" I said.
She nodded. "Dr. Clark said this does happen and they have medications to deal with it. He said Ethan should recover from this in a few days and then we can start over."
I nodded and relaxed a bit, the tension draining out of me. Like Drake said, a setback. Not a life threatening one, but a complication from the bleed.
We sat in silence in the tiny waiting room, our minds all preoccupied with my father, his progress over the past days and how he'd do now, after this lapse.
In about an hour, they took my father back to his room on the ward. We took turns visiting with him, and I held his hand once more and told him that I needed him to get better and be there for me.
It was late Friday night when I finally said goodnight to my father and went out to the waiting room.
"We might as well go back to the apartment," Drake said, but he said it in such a way that suggested he knew I wouldn't be going back.
"I'll sleep in the extra resident's bunk, if it's available."
He sighed. "I'll go check."
Drake left me alone, and I went to the family bathroom and brushed my teeth. When he came back, he handed me the key to the room.
"At least let me sleep in there with you," he said. "I don’t want to go back to the apartment alone, especially on our last night here."
"You mean your last night here. I'm not going back, Drake. I thought you’d already realize that. I can't go back to Nairobi now. Not after this setback."
He sighed and stared in my eyes, as if searching for some hint that I might be persuaded otherwise.
There was no way.
"No," he said and made a chopping motion with his hand as if to cut off further discussion. "I don't want us to be separated. I told you that when I gave you that collar, and I meant it. You're father's better. Aaron said so."
"Drake," I said, exasperated with him. "I have to stay."
"I have to go back. I've already taken a week off…"
"That's your choice."
He said nothing. Instead, he glared at the far wall, a muscle in his jaw pulsing. Finally, he exhaled heavily and his shoulders sagged.
"My flight leaves tomorrow morning at 7:00, which means I have to be there at 5:30. I have to go to sleep now, if I'm going to make it. I want to sleep with you."
