Megs let out a breath, relieved. “You rest now, love. I’m right here.”
Chapter 13
Megs couldn’t bringherself to leave Mitch’s side. Now that he was conscious enough to feel pain, she wanted to be there to make sure he got his morphine on time in case the nurses got busy or forgot. Debby, Jackie, Fabiola, Kim, and the other RNs were excellent at their jobs, but no one loved Mitch the way she did.
The night came with the same care routine as the daytime, meaning she got very little sleep. But by morning, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that Mitch had progressed to a minimally conscious state. He tracked Megs with his gaze. He rubbed the bandages over his clavicle. And once, when Megs laughed at a joke, he smiled.
Megs’ heart skipped a beat. “You’re smiling.”
Dr. Schwartz made his rounds early. “We’re taking him to the OR to remove his intracranial catheter today. The pressure has continued to decrease, so it’s time.”
Megs stayed with Mitch until they rolled him away, then made the short drive back to the hotel, where she slept for a few hours. When she woke, it was already mid-afternoon. She took a quick shower, updated their social media accounts, and answered emails from Conrad and Rain.
Megs’ phone buzzed.
It was Gridwall. “How are you holding up, Megs?”
“I’ll be okay.”
“Hey, it’s me. I know you better than that. Mitch is everything to you.”
This was true.
What could Megs say? “I’ll be fine when Mitch is fine.”
“Fair enough. What can we do to help?”
“Help me put together a ‘wear your fucking helmet’ campaign. Mitch would be dead without his helmet. So many younger climbers think helmets are uncool. I guess they ruin their selfies or some shit. So many climbers refuse to wear them.”
“Kids today are stupider than we were.”
Megs couldn’t resist. “Oh, I wouldn’t go that far. We helped invent this insane sport, remember?”
Gridwall chuckled. “I’ll get in touch with the rest of the dirtbags. We’ll get on it and come up with some kind of PSA. Maybe I can get a sponsor to help us.”
“Thanks, Jim. You’re a good friend.”
Back in the ICU, she found Debby on duty and Mitch unconscious.
Or was he sleeping?
“We had to sedate him. He’s progressing, but he’s not aware enough to understand that he can’t mess with the subclavian line or the vent. Also, he’s been fighting the ventilator, trying to breathe on his own. We have to ensure his care, and sometimes that means sedation.”
“I understand.” Megs took Mitch’s hand, waited until Debby had left them alone. “I hear you’re causing trouble, giving the nurses a hard time. But to be honest, you look more like yourself without a catheter sticking out of your brain.”
It was a big step, but they still had so far to go.
She told him about Gridwall’s call and her idea for a helmet campaign. “If we can get some of the big gear brands to join us, we ought to be able to reach a lot of people.”
She shared the news with Rain via text message, then dozed in the chair—until radiology came with their mobile X-ray unit to check his lungs once again. “You’re going to get superpowers from all these X-rays, love.”
When the X-ray tech had gone, Megs walked back to Mitch’s bedside.
He watched her, his gaze aligning with hers.
Was her Mitch in there? What must he feel right now? What was he thinking? Was he afraid? Did he have any memory of what had happened?
She took his hand, kissed it. “This must be confusing as hell, but you’re getting better. Every day, you’re getting better, Mitch. So many people around the world are pulling for you, praying for you. Try to relax and let your body do what it needs to do to heal, okay?”
