“Garrick has been in a coma for twenty months with no change,” Hugh begins. Dawn places a reassuring hand on his thigh. “He’s been on a ventilator the entire time, and the longer he remains on one, the more risk there is to his brain, his heart, his lungs, and other organs. He can’t remain on it indefinitely.”
“We know you found cases where people were on life support for years and they came out of it and recovered,” Dawn says.
“But they are rare miracles,” Hugh continues. “And in some of those cases, the individuals died a few days later from organ failure, or they were in a vegetative state and never regained any quality of life.” A sob rises up his throat, and pain grips my heart.
My hands shake, and Hudson pulls me in close, wrapping his arm around me. We trade a pained look, both of us sensing where this is going.
“I don’t want to keep my son alive by artificial means if he comes out of it impaired. What life is that? It’s one thing to consider he may be paralyzed from the waist down but quite another to consider him in a vegetative state. I don’t want that for Garrick. That is no life.”
“What are you proposing?” Hudson asks, getting to the heart of the matter.
“We want to take Garrick off the ventilator,” Dawn confirms, clutching her husband’s hand.
“That doesn’t necessarily mean he’d die though, right?” I ask, remembering some of the research I’ve read.
“Right.” Hugh rubs his temples. “He could breathe by himself, and maybe that might trigger him to wake up.”
“There is no medical connection between those two things and no guarantee that would happen. He will either breathe by himself or he will pass away,” Dawn says.
“At least this way, we’re letting it happen naturally,” Hugh says. “We’re leaving my son in God’s hands, and he’ll do what is best.”
Garrick would call that leaving it to fate.
I want to call bullshit, but I won’t chastise anyone for their faith. We might have a difference of opinion, but they are entitled to their beliefs. I just don’t share them.
“What about Ivy?” I ask because I can’t see her agreeing.
“We haven’t discussed it with her yet,” Hugh says.
“But we expect her to throw a hissy fit and kick us out,” Dawn adds, taking a sip of her coffee.
It prompts me to take a sip of mine before it goes cold.
“Then what?” Hudson asks.
“Then we petition the court to turn off the ventilator,” Hugh says.
“What about her power of attorney? Doesn’t she get the final say?”
“This is a unique situation, and Hugh still has rights as his father,” Dawn says.
“There is some precedent, so all isn’t lost. It all depends on getting a sympathetic judge.”
“How long would this take to happen if you go legal?” Hudson asks.
“We could probably get a hearing in a few months, but it could drag on for years,” Hugh confirms.
Air whooshes out of my mouth as I grip my mug. “I can’t imagine how difficult it must’ve been to make this decision, but, for what it’s worth, I think you’re right.”
“Me too.” Hudson removes his arm from my back and rubs his face. “I love Garrick like a brother, but I hate seeing him like this. None of us have a crystal ball. How long do we leave him like this before saying enough is enough? He could be in a coma for thirty years and never wake up. We just don’t know.”
“We agree.” Dawn’s face is a mask of sorrow.
“If there were any encouraging signs, I’d be in favor of waiting, but there has been no change for almost two years. I love Garrick so much.” Tears spill down Hugh’s cheeks again. “I’m so proud to be his father, but I can’t do this to him. To all of us. It’s hurting the twins. It’s hurting me and Dawn. It’s hurting you and his other friends. If we do this and he breathes by himself, it’ll give us some sign that we should hold on. If he doesn’t, then he will be at peace.”
“I’m sorry you have to make this kind of decision,” I say, getting up and going over to hug Garrick’s dad. “You are very brave, and there isn’t anyone who doubts how much you love him.”
“If I can do anything to help,” Hudson says, “you only have to ask.”
