And I just unloaded it all. I told the two EMTs about Clay’s history. His previous hospitalizations as well as his unwillingness to stay on medication. I told them about his erratic moods and even about his family life. I wanted them to have a complete history. Hell, I’d tell them about his childhood fear of the dark and the fact he hated brussels sprouts if I thought it would help. The male and female paramedics alternated asking several questions pertaining to Clay’s medication and how long he had been off it but, other than that, they just listened.
Once we got to the emergency room at the local hospital, everything was a blur. Doctors and nurses came as soon as we arrived and whisked Clay away. I tried to follow but, because I wasn’t family, I wasn’t permitted to go in with him. A nurse brought me some soap and a towel and showed me where the bathrooms were. I thought that was quite odd until I got a full-on look at myself in the mirror. Oh, my God—I looked like I had just survivedThe Texas Chainsaw Massacre.
Blood was caked on my face and neck. My jeans were almost black with dried blood from the knees down. My hands were coated with the sticky, flaky stuff, and I had to dig it out from under my fingernails. I used the soap to wash my skin, and then I tried sticking my head under the faucet so I could rinse my hair. I felt sick at the sight of the pink water as it swirled down the drain.
Thinking that was Clay’s life gurgling down into the pipes.
When I was finished, I went back to the front desk, where I was directed to the waiting room. I joined twenty other people as I sat in my own personal hell. I alternated between pacing the floor and hounding the nurses about Clay’s status. They never had much to tell me.
Finally, at around 5:30 in the morning, a nurse came out and called my name. I had been crunched up in the most uncomfortable chair on the planet for the past hour, and I thought my back would break from the crazy position I had put myself in. I jumped to my feet and rushed over to her.
“I’m Maggie Young,” I said a little breathlessly. The nurse gave me a once-over.
“You’re Clayton Reed’s girlfriend?” she asked.
“Yes. That’s me.” The nurse put her hand on my shoulder and pulled me off to the side.
“We need to get in contact with Clay’s parents. They have to be notified. Do you have a way to reach them?” I started to protest, knowing Clay would hate that. But the nurse, whose name badge readKELLY BURKE, RPN, cut me off.
“Maggie. He is a minor. We have to notify his family of his condition.” I felt the tears spill down my cheeks.
“Can you please just tell me how he’s doing? I’ll give you the number. I just need to know what’s going on. Please tell me if he’s gonna be okay,” I pleaded with her.
I saw Nurse Burke waver. “I’m not permitted to share medical information regarding a minor with anyone but his family. But...” She looked around and then back at me. “You saved his life,” she said quietly.
I put my hand to my mouth and tried to stifle the sob that rose up in my throat. Kelly Burke patted my back. “Clay is in ICU and is listed in critical condition. He lost a lot of blood. We had to give him three pints. He’s still unconscious but we anticipate he’ll be waking soon. We’re not sure of the impact his blood loss has had on the rest of his organs and won’t know until he wakes up.” She cleared her throat and dropped her voice even lower.
“Aside from the physical ramifications, there are the psychological impacts that factor as well. The staff psychiatrist has been notified and will be in to see him once he regains consciousness. I don’t anticipate him being released for a while.”
I tried to stay on my feet, but I felt myself wobbling. I was exhausted. I hadn’t eaten in almost twelve hours. I just couldn’t take anything in anymore.
Nurse Burke must have seen the look on my face, because she gripped my arm and walked me to a chair. “Let me get you some juice. You look like you’re about to pass out.”
Nurse Burke returned a few minutes later with a foil-topped juice cup and paper-wrapped straw and placed them in my hand. I opened the cup and took a few sips and felt a little better. I pulled out Clay’s phone, which I had grabbed before leaving the motel, and went through the contacts until I found his parents’ number. I gave it to the nurse. She thanked me and then left to make the call.
I sat there, numb. I felt completely empty. After another hour had passed, Nurse Burke came back out to let me know that Clay’s parents were on their way. I simply nodded and thanked her. I pulled out my own phone and called my mom.
“Maggie? Are you on your way home?” she asked as soon as she picked up. I took in a shaky breath and felt the tears start again, completely unbidden.
“No, Mom. We’re at the hospital.”
“Oh, my God! Are you okay?” she demanded in a panicked voice.
“I’m fine, Mom. It’s Clay. He tried to kill himself.”
“Oh, Maggie! Where are you? We’re coming to get you!” I gave her the name of the hospital and she assured me that she and my father would be there as soon as possible.
I hung up and dropped the phone onto the table beside me. Unable to move, I stared blankly at the TV mounted on the wall. How did things get this bad so quickly? How could I have allowed it to get so out of hand? I blamed myself entirely for Clay being here.
I should have stopped him from leaving town. I should have forced him to face what was going on with his parents. But most of all, I should never have ignored how badly he needed help. I was the biggest culprit in the enabling category.
My “love” had only made things worse for him. Because I had refused to see what was right in front of me. My denial had failed Clay. I put my face in my hands and cried.
A while later, I felt a hand touch my shoulder and I sat up with a start. Nurse Burke stood over me with a kind look on her face. “He’s awake and asking for you. I shouldn’t let you back to see him, but he’s been very agitated, demanding to see you. We’ve had to give him a sedative. But I can only give you a few minutes.”
I got to my feet. “Thank you so much,” I whispered as she led me back through a set of locked doors. The hospital smell made me feel light-headed and I tried to keep my breathing even and stay steady on my feet. Nurse Burke and I continued to walk until we were outside of the ICU. She led me to his room and quickly waved me inside, watching the corridor as I hurried through the door.
Clay lay in a bed, a bunch of wires hooked up to his body, the beeping of machines echoing much too loudly in the small space. “You can only have a few minutes. I’ll be back,” Nurse Burke said, before leaving to give us some privacy.
