“Oh, I’ve been sitting in the lounge for quite some time, but I didn’t want to be a bother. I peeked in the room earlier, but Carole was sleeping, and you were reading. All three of you looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to disturb you.”
I look at my dad and, for the first time, I’m a little sad for him. He is alone, and although he is technically part of this family, he saw himself as an outsider and didn’t want to intrude.
“So, I talked to the nurse, and she said you are waiting to hear from the doctor. I wanted to stick around to see what the doctor says. But when I saw you run down the hall into the bathroom, I sensed something was wrong.”
“I’m glad you’re here, Dad. Carole is too, even though she may not say so.”
“Yes, she has been keeping me in the loop. She gave me a fright yesterday. She told me I didn’t need to be here, but of course I had to. You know, I still love your mother.”
I smile and say, “I was on my way to the cafeteria to get Aunt Sarah a cup of coffee. Want to join me?”
“Sure, I could do with a cuppa. Strong black tea might be nice. Hey, did you smell Brian? He reeks of booze and weed. I can’t believe they let him in the hospital.”
“Well, Dad,” I sigh, “some things have changed, but most things stay the same.”
“Too true,” he says.
He puts his arm around me, and we walk to the cafeteria.
We arrive back at Mom’s hospital room with the coffee, and I hand the cup to Aunt Sarah, and in return she gives me a half smile. Carole surprisingly greets Dad warmly with a kiss on the cheek; another first as far as I can remember. Dad shakes hands with Brian and gives Aunt Sarah a hug. Someone has cleaned up the spilled glass of water and picked up the papers that were scattered on the floor.
“It’s getting awfully crowded, so I’m gonna go step outside for some…fresh air,” Brian calls as he exits the room.
“Well, we all know what that’s code for,” Carole says, and Aunt Sarah shoots her daggers.
Carole crosses her arms and turns to Dad. “Daniel, you didn’t need to take off work too. That was awfully sweet of you. Thank you, I’m glad you came.”
An older man with salt and pepper hair, dressed in a white shirt and striped tie, comes into the room, and closes the door. He speaks in a monotone voice, and his words are neither warm nor cold, just flat.
“Hello, I’m Dr. Glassman. I’m Lindsey’s doctor. Technically, there are only supposed to be two visitors at a time, but I’m glad everyone is here. I took care of Lindsey when she came in yesterday, and I’ve been following her progress. I won’t beat around the bush with a bunch of small talk. No one likes that, and frankly, it’s not helpful. I’m sorry to say I still don’t have much more news to share than what you already know. We can assume that Lindsey fell asleep at the wheel driving home yesterday afternoon. This resulted in her drifting out of her lane and into oncoming traffic. It was lucky the other cars were able to swerve out of the way and no one else was hurt, but as you know, she did go over the embankment and crashed into a large, unforgiving tree. Most of this we know from the police report and witnesses on the scene. But medically speaking, and as I’ve said already, we can deduce she fell asleep at the wheel. We have drained off some of the fluid from the swelling around her brain, and in many of these instances, the coma is temporary. This is good news. In most cases, it rarely lasts more than two to four weeks.”
Aunt Sarah gasps and puts her hand up to her mouth. “Four weeks!”
“Possibly,” the doctor says. “She could very well wake up at any time. But the prognosis is varied and depends on the severity of the brain injury which we don’t know a whole lot about just yet. There is still quite a bit of swelling in Lindsey’s brain, but hopefully that will diminish over time. We have given her steroids to help with that. What I can tell you is that for those who recover, and many patients do, recovery is gradual. All you can do now is be patient and have faith.”
Aunt Sarah bursts into tears, and I space out, unsure of what all this means. Dad manages to get a few words out.
“Well, doctor. Thank you for your time. We will take this as good news and look at the bright side.”
“Is there anything we can do?” Carole asks, clearing her throat.
“No, not really. You know what to do already. Visit, be patient, and talk to her. Maybe she can hear you? It certainly can’t hurt, and it might even help make the difference in Lindsey’s recovery.”
Carole stands up, wipes away her tears, and shakes Dr. Glassman’s hand. “Thank you, doctor. Yes, this is something we can all do, and we will.”
Dr. Glassman leaves the room, and Brian stumbles back through the door.
“Hey, is she awake yet?”
26
A Very Bionic Halloween
It’s October 31st, which is Mom’s favorite day of the year. Mine too. It’s been three weeks since her car accident, and there has been no sign of her waking. We are trying to stay positive but the more time that passes, the more our spirits dip. The one bright spot during this awful time has been PJ. He comes to the hospital every weekend to hang out with me and Carole. PJ runs errands for us, picks up groceries, and even brings carryout Thai food for me and frozen grapes for Carole. Sadly, we haven’t kissed since Mom’s accident, and I miss it. When I think about kissing him, a guilty feeling takes over me. Am I a horrible person? How can I consider kissing a boy while my mom lies in a coma? The alien doesn’t like it, and neither do I.
PJ and Aunt Sarah crossed paths once, but she never asked who he was, and I didn’t bother to introduce them. Either she figured it out or she didn’t. It seemed like a weird time to be like, Oh, Aunt Sarah, by the way, I’m gay too! You know, like Mom, but it’s not her fault. I was born this way, and also…this is my boyfriend. Either way, I can’t worry about it now; I have other plans to put into action.
Halloween has always been a big production in the Bugg household. No matter where we lived, we always had our orange-and-black storage tubs filled with skeletons, fake gravestones, scary music CDs, and more plastic pumpkins than you can possibly imagine. One year we even rented a fog machine. We thought we were so cool. However, our brilliant idea backfired when someone called the fire department thinking the apartment building was on fire. We laugh about it now, but it took years before the neighbors forgave us. Halloween is just what I need to execute my perfect plan to bring Mom out of her coma. Fingers and toes crossed.
