Harper spoke to her mom, then tried to relax, but the ride to the hospital was a blur of silent prayers and unspoken fears. Owen filled her in on the pieces of information he had, but her thoughts were full of what-ifs and her heart ached with the possibility of losing her granddad.
Arriving at the hospital, Harper barely registered the world moving around her. Each step toward the emergency room felt heavier than the last. Her heart pounded against her chest with a force that threatened to overwhelm her.
The sight of her mom waiting outside the emergency department snapped her back into the present. After giving her a big hug, Harper wiped the tears out of her eyes. “Has any of the hospital staff spoken to you?”
Carrie nodded. “The neurologist saw me a few minutes ago. She thinks your granddad’s had another stroke. He’s having a CT scan and they’ve done some blood tests. We just have to wait until the results come back.”
Harper fought back more tears. It had taken so long for her granddad to regain some mobility after his last stroke and she was terrified of what this meant. “Was Granddad able to talk to you?”
Carrie shook her head. “I’m sure he recognized me, but he couldn’t speak or move.”
Owen wrapped his arm around Harper’s shoulders. “Let’s find somewhere to sit.”
“I’ll stay here in case we can go in and see him,” Carrie said softly. “Let me know where you’re sitting and I’ll get you.”
Owen looked at the waiting area. “Why don’t you come with us? There are some empty seats on the left-hand side. If we sit there, we’ll be close to the emergency room.”
Reluctantly, Carrie followed Harper and Owen across to the seats.
Harper looked at all the people sitting in the waiting area. If Polson Hospital was anything like the hospitals in New York City, they could be here for a while.
Chapter18
Harper sat in the hospital waiting room, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Owen was by her side, while Carrie paced back and forth, each step in time with Harper’s pounding heart.
Her phone vibrated, shattering the tense silence. She glanced at the screen and Daniella’s name flashed brightly. For the first time tonight, Harper was happy to be distracted by her phone. Owen had told her about the surprise birthday party her mom and granddad had organized. After they’d gone through the names of the people her mom thought would be there, Harper had called Daniella to see if she knew who else was on the guest list.
“Hi, Daniella,” Harper said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Have you heard anything?”
“Not yet.” Harper looked around the room. There were so many people still waiting to be seen that she was glad the stroke support team had seen her granddad straightaway. “But we should know what’s happening soon.”
“That’s good. I’ve contacted everyone on the list Owen gave me and a few others I knew would be at your party. I’ve canceled everything, and Harrison’s at your granddad’s house in case someone shows up who didn’t get the message.”
“Thanks, Daniella. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Harper’s throat was tight with emotion. “Mom said there’s a lot of food on the table. If it won’t fit in the refrigerator, take it home or give it to Pastor John for The Welcome Center.”
“Don’t worry,” Daniella assured her. “Harrison’s already put most of the food away. Some of the meat wouldn’t fit in your freezer, so I put it in ours. I’ll bring it around to your granddad’s house when there’s more room.”
“Thanks.”
Daniella sighed. “I’m so sorry your granddad isn’t well. If you need anything, call me.”
“I will.” Harper ended the call, unable to focus on anything other than her granddad’s condition.
Before she put the phone away, a woman in a white coat approached them. “The family of Benjamin Nelson?” she asked in a gentle voice.
“Yes, that’s us,” Carrie said quickly, her voice steadier than Harper’s.
The neurologist introduced herself and guided them to a small family conference room.
Once seated, she confirmed their fears. Benjamin had suffered a stroke. Harper listened, numb, as the doctor detailed the extent of the damage, the areas of the brain that’d been affected, and the likely long-term impacts.
“Given the severity of his stroke,” she explained, “Benjamin will require around-the-clock care, at least for the next few months. Although it’s too early to give you a full prognosis, it’s unlikely he’ll be able to live at home without significant help.”
The room felt both too large and suffocatingly small as Harper absorbed what that meant for her granddad. Owen’s hand reached for hers. It was a lifeline when she was overwhelmed with fear.
The neurologist continued, outlining potential rehabilitation programs, the importance of a supportive environment for recovery, and the challenges they might face. “It’s crucial to consider his quality of life,” she emphasized, “and to make decisions that align with his wishes and well-being.”
