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“She’s okay?” I ask, following her down a long vacant hall before crossing through a set of double doors.
“She’s asleep, but yes, she’ll be okay. We gave her a pretty heavy pain killer to help manage her pain so don’t be surprised if she sleeps for a while.” She stops next to a closed door across from the nurses’ station. “The doctor will come in and speak to you shortly. In the meantime, you can go sit with her.” She opens the door.
The room is dimly lit but my eyes find Finley in an instant. She seems peaceful, her breathing even as her chest rises and falls. I close the distance between us, taking the chair next to her bed. My hand immediately goes to hers.
I hold her fingers up and kiss the back of each one, careful not to disrupt the I.V. drip connected to the underside of her forearm.
“Finley.” I rest my forehead against her hand, all the fear and worry that’s been building in me for the last hour and a half finally boiling over.
I swear I’ve never been so fucking scared in my entire life. I can still hear her pain riddled words in my ears, playing on repeat.It hurts.
I take a few calming breaths, trying to pull myself together.
“She’s okay,” I say to myself, repeating my words over and over. I rest her hand back onto the bed and lean forward, laying my face next to it.
I’m not sure how long my eyes had been closed for by the time the doctor comes in. I feel like I shut them for a minute but something tells me it was much longer.
“Mr. Collins.” The white haired man steps further into the room, a tablet in his hand. “I’m Dr. Stevens. How’s she doing?” He gestures to Finley.
“Still sleeping,” I grumble tiredly, rubbing my eyes with the backs of my hands.
“I’d say she’ll likely sleep a few more hours.” He nods.
“Can you tell me what happened?”
“Product of the cancer, I’m afraid. She experienced a very severe headache, which also explains why she was throwing up.”
“From the pain?” I question, having not really put the two together.
He nods, flipping across the tablet screen.
“We gave her a combination of pain and nausea medication which seemed to alleviate a good deal of her discomfort rather quickly. Unfortunately given her condition, there isn’t much more we can do for her.” He gives me a sad smile. “I’m going to write you a prescription for pain medication. That should help with the headaches until you can get her back to see her doctor in Chicago.”
“We weren’t planning on going back for a few more days,” I say numbly.
“I would advise that you get her home sooner rather than later. Someone with her condition can go from completely fine to barely functioning in the matter of days. I reviewed her charts and based on what I saw I’d say it’s only going to get worse from here.”
“What are you saying?” I look up at him.
“I’m saying she needs to be home, with her doctors. They will come up with the right form of treatment to make her as comfortable as they can.”
“You’re saying she’s going to die?” I choke on the words.
“I’m guessing you already knew this. But yes, she is dying,” he confirms, his expression neutral but not uncaring. “We will wait until she wakes up to evaluate her. As long as she feels up to it, she’ll be free to go.”
“Okay.” I nod, my brain working over time trying to process how quickly everything changed.
She was fine yesterday. She’s been fine this whole time. It was so easy to pretend that she wasn’t sick, but it would seem my days of pretending are over.
I need to find a way to accept what’s to come. No matter how much I don’t want to. I have to. For Finley.
