This was Jo! Jo’s lungs. Jo’s ribs. Jo’s poor back and always aching hips that had gyrated with joy last night.
“But the brain situation is the most dire.”
Dire. Oh, that was not a good word.
“Being on a blood thinner like Eliquis is common for her age, but makes the bleeding worse and harder to control,” the doctor said.
“What exactly is the surgery?” Tessa asked.
“Craniotomy to evacuate the hematoma.”
Which might as well be in Latin. “What is that?” Maggie demanded, sharper than she’d intended.
The young man looked at her, his face softening as if he somehow knew this was unbearable for her. “A section of her skull will be temporarily removed, blood drained, and bone flap replaced. This is a level two trauma center, and we have an excellent team. We’ll report back in two to four hours.”
Maggie bit back a whimper. An eternity!
“I suggest you keep a skeleton crew here, get some rest, and…pray.”
“What are her chances?” Tessa demanded.
“Please be honest,” Kate added.
His shoulders sank almost imperceptibly. “If she survives the surgery, it will be touch and go for two or three days. We’ll have a plan that I’ll explain to you then. Now? We have to operate as soon as possible. We’ll have someone come down to update you when we know more,” Dr. Winslow said. “I’ll talk with you again afterward myself.”
With that, he left, the doors zipped closed electronically to shut them off from any more information.
The group stood in silence and shock as every one of them realized they might lose the lightest, brightest, sweetest, best thing that ever happened.
Kate sank into a chair and reached for Tessa’s hand. Eli put an arm around Kate’s shoulder. Vivien held onto Peter, while everyone processed this news and some started to cry.
Maggie stayed standing in the middle of the waiting room with her hands at her sides, looking at the doors the surgeonhad gone through. The thought that had arrived a moment ago returned, larger this time, and she let the guilt take a big bite out of her.
This is the bill for what we did. This is the punishment.
Somewhere in this hospital, Jo Ellen Wylie was being prepped for surgery where they would cut open her head. The odds were not in her favor. Well, unless she wanted to see Artie tonight. Then they were in her favor.
For Maggie, her world just looked bleak as the words from Vivien’s diary reverberated.
The Maggie Lawson Karma Special….do bad things and bad things will happen to you.
Kate sat in the ICU at three in the morning, fighting tears and exhaustion as the second sleepless night in a row pressed down on her.
Trying to shake it off and appreciate these few moments the kind nurse had allowed her to have with her mother, she looked around, maybe for the first time since they’d rolled Jo Ellen in here after surgery.
The room, which was surprisingly spacious, was lit only by the green and amber glow of the monitors and the LED strip over the small stainless-steel sink, with one cool white beam spilling in from the corridor every time the door opened.
The space was quiet but not silent, because of the ventilator, which hummed and huffed and breathed for a woman who could not do it on her own.
Her sweet, optimistic, fun-loving mother lay perfectly still in a medically induced coma, still not yet awakened or able to learn that she’d fallen and nearly died.
Kate had to have the distance confirmed, which Eli had done, explaining that the garage isn’t as high as a typical first floor and the apartment was not technically on the second floor.
It was bad—a twelve-foot fall—but survivable. She’d landed on her side. She’d fallen on grass. She’d survived at her age. There was much to be grateful for.
But this was also… “touch and go,” as the doctor said.
Kate studied the small bolt wrapped in gauze at Mom’s hairline above her temple. That device—the ICP or intracranial pressure monitor—measured the pressure on her brain. It would come out when the vent did, which felt like an eternity from now.
