waiting to take Tessa away.
“How long?” she asked, her voice husky. “The surgery?”
Dr. Morris moved a step into the space. “Difficult to say,” he told her. “A couple of hours at least. I’ll send someone to give you updates if it goes past that, okay?”
Jeannie felt as if she was bargaining for time on Tessa’s behalf—two hours to bring their beautiful laughing child back to them? Or was he talking about two hours just to get her to the point where she could begin the long weeks and maybe months of recovery? Or after two hours would…? She would not allow herself to think beyond those two alternatives. “Two hours,” she whispered as she bent to kiss Tessa’s cheek and smooth her silken hair away from her face. She tucked a strand behind her daughter’s ear as Tessa had done herself that very morning—this very morning—for the large clock on the wall outside the cubicle showed the time as just a minute past nine o’clock.
She stepped away to let the aides unlock the gurney wheels and start down the corridor, but Geoff held on, walking briskly and then trotting to keep pace until they reached an elevator. The nurse gently pulled him away. A second elevator opened, and an aide exited with a young man in a wheelchair followed by an older couple. Dan Kline and his parents. If Dan is hurt, then what about Sadie? Jeannie wondered. The Kline family disappeared behind a curtain.
Down the corridor, the light above the elevator carrying Tessa was clicking off floors: 2-3-4.… Jeannie stood frozen in the now barren cubicle, her hand outstretched as if to rescue her child from a fall. Then she saw Geoff still facing the elevator. His broad shoulders slumped, and then began to shake uncontrollably. Relieved to have something to do, Jeannie picked up Tessa’s backpack and went to comfort her husband.
“Come on,” she said as she saw an aide waiting patiently by another bank of elevators and understood that the young woman was there for them.
“I’ll take you to the surgical family waiting room,” the aide said as she held the doors of the elevator open.
“There’s a chapel just across the hall here,” she continued as they exited the elevator after the short, silent ride. She indicated the chapel as if she were leading some kind of tour while Geoff and Jeannie made their way blindly down the corridor after her. “And a café just around that corner and down the hall.”
A café? Seriously? How about just a plain old, ordinary hospital coffee shop?
Jeannie couldn’t even remember what floor they had come to, but the aide seemed well practiced in her mission, and Jeannie could not help but give herself over to the young woman for the time being.
“There’s free coffee and tea in the waiting room,” the aide said, continuing her tour. “And vending machines down the hall that way. Oh, and there’s also this private room you can use.” She opened a wooden door. “It’s a good place to sit down with the doctor once the surgery is over.” She waited for some response and got none. “The waiting room is just around the corner.”
“Bathrooms?” Jeannie asked as they turned a corner.
“Right here and also—”
Jeannie let go of Geoff’s hand and practically ran for the door. She locked herself inside the small room with its porcelain sink and single toilet and a mirror that Jeannie found herself staring into as she wrapped her arms tightly around herself.
Who is that? The face staring back at her was nearly unrecognizable—a parody of the woman she had been just hours earlier. The mouth was twisted into a kind of silent scream, and the eyes—always so lively and filled with plans for the day—were lifeless.
Her entire body began to shake and heave as if she were caught in the riptide of a turbulent sea. Wave after wave of sheer terror crashed over her until she thought she could not breathe, and yet she was aware that the tiny bathroom echoed with the sounds of her sobbing.
“How long?” she asked, her voice husky. “The surgery?”
Dr. Morris moved a step into the space. “Difficult to say,” he told her. “A couple of hours at least. I’ll send someone to give you updates if it goes past that, okay?”
Jeannie felt as if she was bargaining for time on Tessa’s behalf—two hours to bring their beautiful laughing child back to them? Or was he talking about two hours just to get her to the point where she could begin the long weeks and maybe months of recovery? Or after two hours would…? She would not allow herself to think beyond those two alternatives. “Two hours,” she whispered as she bent to kiss Tessa’s cheek and smooth her silken hair away from her face. She tucked a strand behind her daughter’s ear as Tessa had done herself that very morning—this very morning—for the large clock on the wall outside the cubicle showed the time as just a minute past nine o’clock.
She stepped away to let the aides unlock the gurney wheels and start down the corridor, but Geoff held on, walking briskly and then trotting to keep pace until they reached an elevator. The nurse gently pulled him away. A second elevator opened, and an aide exited with a young man in a wheelchair followed by an older couple. Dan Kline and his parents. If Dan is hurt, then what about Sadie? Jeannie wondered. The Kline family disappeared behind a curtain.
Down the corridor, the light above the elevator carrying Tessa was clicking off floors: 2-3-4.… Jeannie stood frozen in the now barren cubicle, her hand outstretched as if to rescue her child from a fall. Then she saw Geoff still facing the elevator. His broad shoulders slumped, and then began to shake uncontrollably. Relieved to have something to do, Jeannie picked up Tessa’s backpack and went to comfort her husband.
“Come on,” she said as she saw an aide waiting patiently by another bank of elevators and understood that the young woman was there for them.
“I’ll take you to the surgical family waiting room,” the aide said as she held the doors of the elevator open.
“There’s a chapel just across the hall here,” she continued as they exited the elevator after the short, silent ride. She indicated the chapel as if she were leading some kind of tour while Geoff and Jeannie made their way blindly down the corridor after her. “And a café just around that corner and down the hall.”
A café? Seriously? How about just a plain old, ordinary hospital coffee shop?
Jeannie couldn’t even remember what floor they had come to, but the aide seemed well practiced in her mission, and Jeannie could not help but give herself over to the young woman for the time being.
“There’s free coffee and tea in the waiting room,” the aide said, continuing her tour. “And vending machines down the hall that way. Oh, and there’s also this private room you can use.” She opened a wooden door. “It’s a good place to sit down with the doctor once the surgery is over.” She waited for some response and got none. “The waiting room is just around the corner.”
“Bathrooms?” Jeannie asked as they turned a corner.
“Right here and also—”
Jeannie let go of Geoff’s hand and practically ran for the door. She locked herself inside the small room with its porcelain sink and single toilet and a mirror that Jeannie found herself staring into as she wrapped her arms tightly around herself.
Who is that? The face staring back at her was nearly unrecognizable—a parody of the woman she had been just hours earlier. The mouth was twisted into a kind of silent scream, and the eyes—always so lively and filled with plans for the day—were lifeless.
Her entire body began to shake and heave as if she were caught in the riptide of a turbulent sea. Wave after wave of sheer terror crashed over her until she thought she could not breathe, and yet she was aware that the tiny bathroom echoed with the sounds of her sobbing.
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