ABBY
The putrid smell of disinfectant and death lingers heavily in the expectant atmosphere at the Mater Hospital. Callum’s been in surgery for hours. His leg’s in a bad way, but worryingly, it’s his heart with the real problem. How ironic.
If the ambulance hadn’t already been on its way, there was a terrifying possibility that we’d have already lost him, and he’s not out of the woods yet.
Physically, Callum appears the least possible candidate for a heart attack, but that’s exactly what he suffered. The consultant diagnosed a rare underlying genetic heart condition, previously undetected. Terrifyingly, the doctor called it The Widow Maker. The ambulance crew resuscitated him twice with a defibrillator, and he’s currently in a critical condition undergoing surgery, in the hands of Dublin’s best consultants.
Jimmy and Linda sit next to me in the family waiting room outside intensive care. Jimmy paces the floor relentlessly, and Linda sits in shocked silence, occasionally glancing up to check on her brother.
I alternate between praying Callum will be ok and hating myself for wasting the last two weeks away from him.
If he pulls through this, I vow to never leave his side again. That is presuming he’ll still have me. The prospect of a world without Callum Connolly is a bleak possibility I cannot afford to contemplate. He has to pull through. I need him.
‘Can I get you guys a coffee?’ We’ve already had two. Anything to pass a few minutes, or to offer a tiny modicum of control, to pretend I’m doing something productive. Waiting helplessly is killing me.
‘Thank you, Abby.’ Linda manages a tight smile. It’s been a long day for all of us, and it’s far from over.
Jimmy says nothing, transfixed in his own little world.
Twice, he’s had to be reminded why we are here.
I stand and stretch, pushing down that sinking nauseous sensation, determined to remain positive for Callum’s family, if not for myself.
The vending machine’s located on the first floor. I take the two flights of stairs down and bump straight into Marcus and James in the corridor.
‘Abby. I am so fucking sorry. How is he?’ Marcus is verging on tears, emotion crackles in his deep tone.
‘Don’t be. By all accounts, you guys did him the biggest favour of his life. Thank God the ambulance was only thirty seconds away.’ I pat him on the arm affectionately and blink back my own threatening tears.
‘Any news?’ James asks, subdued and horrified with the events of the afternoon.
‘It’s a waiting game now, I’m afraid. He’s still in surgery. As soon as I hear anything, I’ll let you know.’ I sigh a long low, frustrated hiss, unable to believe how quickly life as we know it could be ripped so cruelly from under our feet.
‘Will he be okay?’ James asks the million-dollar question that none of us possess the answer to.
‘All we can do is hope.’ A shudder rips through me as the fragility of the human form dances before my eyes once again.
‘As soon as there’s news, please let us know. We’ll be here,’ James pleads. Black sagging bags settle underneath his eyes, adding years to his previously youthful appearance.
They accompany me to the vending machine. I slot in a few euro coins and watch as the dark brown steaming liquid falls into cheap paper cups.
‘You know he’s mad about you, Abby,’ James says quietly.
‘The feeling’s mutual. But for some daft reason, one that I don’t even want to explain to you, I pushed him away. If one of my listeners rang in with the same story, I’d tell her she was behaving that way to test him. Or because she doesn’t believe it will last. It was a way of taking control of the situation. Self-preservation. You’d think I’d know better, given the job that I do. Amazing how it takes something like this for the clouds to clear.’ It’s a relief to air the oppressive guilt from my chest, even if it is to two of the most unlikely candidates.
I hand James one of the coffee cups.
‘Do you know how this all started?’ Marcus tugs at the collar of his polo shirt uncomfortably.
‘How what started?’
‘We dared him to ask you out,’ Marcus admits sheepishly looking at the ground.
‘I know.’ I smile wistfully. ‘He told me. I’m so glad it was me you picked. I bumped into him earlier in the spa area that day. He gave me the total come-on and I shot him down immediately.’ I laugh out loud at the memory of us arguing over the towelling robe.
‘He never mentioned that, the sly fecker.’ James grins, taking comfort in discussing simpler times.
‘Not for a single millisecond did we ever think it would work out between you two,’ Marcus confesses, seemingly wishing to lighten his own burden. ‘I’m so glad it did. We’ve never seen him like this. Apart from anything, it’s given us years’ worth of piss-taking ammunition. But it’s like he’s bulletproof now. He doesn’t give a shit what any of us say. You did that for him,’ he acknowledges with a nod of respect.
