No More Mio Amore

Chapter 17

Sunday, December 19, 1999

Brian walked by the NICU waiting room on his way to the vending machines. His eye caught Debbie, sitting in the corner couch, her head against the wall, sleeping. He had no idea how long she’d been at the hospital. He would have been told if she’d signed into the Unit as a visitor. He looked up at the clock on the wall and saw it was about thirty minutes before eight o’clock. The reception nurse would soon come to tell Debbie she had to leave. Brian wondered why she hadn’t announced her arrival and why she’d stayed so long, knowing she might have to leave before he would emerge from the unit.

He bent down and tapped Debbie’s shoulder. “Deb, wake up,” he prompted.

Deb opened her eyes and jumped in her chair. “Oh! Brian, what are you doing in here?”

Brian laughed and put his hands on his hips. “What are you doing here?”

Debbie looked around the empty room. “I was waiting, honey.”

“For what?” Brian asked.

“I just wanted someone to be here, in case you needed someone. Cynthia came by the diner this afternoon.”

“I take it she told you I threw her out,” Brian replied, irritated.

“She was very upset, Brian.” Debbie stood up and stared at him intently. “She was extremely upset. She couldn’t stop crying. I took off work early and drove her home.”

“And then you drove here,” Brian sneered. “Why?”

“Because, Brian, I want you to tell me why exactly you threw her out. She wouldn’t tell me. She’s stuck by you every moment since Gus was born and she still protected you by not saying a word against you when I tried to get her to explain what happened.”

“So you decided to come here and hope I’d come out and tell you why I’ve reprised the role of ‘big bad Brian’?”

Debbie patted Brian’s cheek and shook her head. “Honey, you and I both know you were never good at that act. So, tell me what the fuck happened.”

“I was on my way to get a snack while Gus is sleeping. I don’t have time for this,” he said, turning away.

Debbie grabbed Brian’s hand and blocked his path. “You’d better tell me why you hurt the person that’s been your rock, this whole time, Brian. Make me understand why in the world you would do what you did to her.”

“Why do you care?” Brian asked.

“Because I’m going to help you fix it,” Debbie replied, gently.

Brian rolled his eyes at the woman, let out a long, deep breath and took a seat. “I don’t need you to help me fix things with Cynthia. She’ll be back here tomorrow afternoon.”

She sat down beside Brian and held his hand. “Well that’s not the impression Cynthia has. She thinks you’ve thrown her out for good. What did you say to make her think that?”

“She was trying to get me to go home,” Brian explained. “She said I needed to get away from all this. I told her that if she said anything of the sort again, I’d have her banned from the hospital.”

“Brian!” Debbie gasped.

“She wouldn’t stop,” Brian defended. “She kept telling me that I needed to go home, get away from all this for a while. So I told her to leave and that I’d call her tomorrow. I needed some time to think. Since Gus was moved back into his room, you’ve all been waiting in here non-stop.”

“You haven’t left here since Gus’ surgery, Brian. Everyone is beyond concerned about you. We think…”

“I don’t give a fuck what any of you think,” Brian said, cutting her off. He grabbed his hand away from Debbie and glared down at her. “None of you know what it’s like. Fuck! I shouldn’t even be in here talking to you. I should be in there with him. He needs me.”

“You said he was sleeping,” Debbie replied.

“Yeah? Well, he was sleeping when I went to lunch with Mikey, but that didn’t mean anything.”

“Brian, he’s okay,” Debbie promised. “He’s going to be okay.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought before he died last Thursday. You do realize that his heart stopped. He had no pulse, nothing, and I wasn’t here for him,” Brian cried. He covered his face in his hands and his body shook with wracking sobs. “He needed me and I wasn’t here. When he woke up, he looked at me and started crying. I know he was angry at me. I know he was wondering why I wasn’t there when he was hurting and all the scary doctors were poking him with needles, hooking him up to machines…”

“Brian,” Debbie interrupted and put her arm around him. “You couldn’t have known what would happen. And, let me tell you something. You’re a great Father. You’re here for him, every second he’s needed you, and you have been here for him. I know that Gus knows you love him. He wasn’t angry that you weren’t here, Brian. He’s much too little to have any feelings like that, sweetie. All he knows is love, and that’s because of you.”

Brian lifted his head and looked Debbie square in the eyes. “Are you sure about that?” he asked.

Debbie ran her hand down Brian’s cheeks and brushed away the streaks of tears as she fought to hold her own back. “I’m positive, Brian. I’ve seen you reading all those baby books, surely you’ve never read that they can feel angry toward their parent at so young of an age, cause if you have, whoever wrote that, is a quack,” Debbie told him.

“No,” Brian replied. “I never read that. But, I did read that babies know when they’ve been abandoned and…”

“You’ve never abandoned Gus, Brian. Never!” Debbie said firmly, grabbing Brian’s face in her hands. “Don’t ever think that you have done that! You have come so far, Brian. In August, what did you think about Gus?”

Brian sighed and admitted, “I didn’t think…anything. Not really. I’d abandoned my responsibilities to him before he was ever born.”

“Bullshit!” Debbie replied back. She stood, and put her hands on her hips and watched Brian as he fought to find something else to back up his claim. “You know you didn’t ever abandon him. You wanted your child to have two parents that loved him. You were sure that Lindsay and Melanie was the best thing for your child, you were responsible enough before he was born to give him what you thought would be the best life he could have.”

“And now he’s with me,” Brian grumbled. “Some life.”

“Yeah,” Debbie agreed. “Some life.”

Brian flinched at the response. “Deb…”

“Brian, cut the bullshit and listen to me. You have put every other part of your life on hold for your son. He is your life. He may not have his mothers, but he has you, his father, and I know he’s going to have a great life with you. It may not be ideal, it may suck for you both at times, but it’s what’s best for both of you.”

“A single father who doesn’t know shit about raising kids?” Brian snarked, unconvinced.

“Yeah, well. I was a single mother that didn’t know shit about raising kids and I’d say I raised my son damn good, don’t you think?”

Brian stood up and wrapped his arms around Debbie. “Two sons,” he whispered and held on tight. “Though I’m not sure of one of them,” he said quietly. “I don’t think you want to claim him, right now.”

Debbie held Brian out at arms length and looked him over for a minute and then stared into his eyes. “Brian, I haven’t always liked the way you’ve lived your life. But, I can say I’ve never been more proud of you, than I am right now.” She smiled and patted his cheek. “But, you need to apologize to Cynthia. She was only looking out for you. She loves Gus and you, so much.”

“I’ll call her later,” Brian gave in. “I’m sure she won’t sleep until I do.”

“It’s getting late,” Debbie replied. “You should call her now.”

“I’ll call her after you leave,” Brian explained.

Debbie shouldered her purse and kissed Brian’s cheek. “Well, I’m leaving now. Call me tomorrow afternoon,” she said, turning to leave.

“So you don’t want to go see Gus?” Brian asked, stopping her.

“I thought you didn’t want anyone in his room,” Debbie spoke, gently. Of course it hurt her not be permitted into Gus’ room, but she understood that Brian feared Gus would pick up a cold or bug one of them might bring in.

“If you’ll wash your hands, and promise to be quiet if he wakes up, you’re more than welcome to see him before the visiting hours are over,” Brian suggested.

“That’s a deal I wouldn’t pass up for the world, Brian.” Debbie grinned at the exhausted young man and was relieved when she received a small smile from him.
 

****
 

Penetrating Trauma, Severe Blunt Force head Trauma, neurological deficits, paralysis, seizures and undetermined comatose state. Jennifer Taylor could think of nothing but these words. They imploded into her subconscious when she found herself nodding off from exhaustion and they demanded her attention in the horrific reality she faced every moment she looked at, or thought about her son.

Three hours prior the ‘all clear’, if you can call it that, was given, stating that Justin was finally in stable condition and expected to live, once he regained consciousness. This news was only a spark of relief in the darkness surrounding Craig and Jennifer. They didn’t notice any positive change in their son’s condition. To them, Justin looked as if he would never wake.

Molly had not been told the specifics of Justin’s injuries. Tomorrow she was supposed to go to her elementary school for a museum field trip. Neither Craig nor Jennifer quite understood how to explain what had happened to Justin. They didn’t understand it themselves, and only told the girl that Justin had been hurt and was in the hospital. At Molly’s young age of seven, she was worried about her brother, but the picture of a positive outlook her parents painted her, regarding Justin’s health, eased her mind.

So, after days of sitting beside Jennifer, Craig left the hospital to pick up Molly from her friend’s house and to bring her home. He would be back after dropping Molly off at school the next morning. He didn’t want to leave his son, or his wife, but neither Jennifer nor Craig were close to their extended family. The only people they relied on were a few friends whom they had yet to call and inform about Justin’s ordeal. They had decided to wait until they knew more about his condition before telling anyone else the terrible news.

Craig did plan on calling Daphne and updating her on Justin’s condition. He knew that she would want to know of Justin’s stable health as soon as possible.

Daphne’s parents had whisked her away moments after they arrived at the hospital Thursday night. Daphne had protested, wanting to stay, but her parents demanded that she go home with them. She hadn’t been allowed to return, even after Craig had called her yesterday to let her know the doctor’s would allow her to visit, but Daphne’s mother felt that her daughter would be better off not being around the trauma, she thought that she’d already seen too much. Craig had no energy to fight them on it, so he instead assured them he would call with updates on Justin. Though, he knew that Justin probably would want Daphne to be there with him.
 

****
 

An hour after Craig left the hospital, Jennifer felt as though she was going to go crazy. At least with her husband sitting with her in Justin’s room, she had someone to talk to, to distract her. Now, all she had was her little boy whose only movement was from the involuntary twitches in his limbs and the machine that forced his chest to rise and fall in forced breaths.

She let out a sigh of relief when the pediatric neurologist unexpectedly came into the room. A nurse pushed a cart of medical supplies in, behind him, the creaking of the wheels sent Jennifer’s headache into a migraine. “Is something wrong, Dr. Glass?” she asked, whispering.

“Mrs. Taylor,” Stephen regarded the woman. “You don’t have to whisper. It’s good if Justin hears your voice,” he reminded her.

“Right,” Jenifer spoke softly, rubbing at her temples. “How is Justin?”

“Justin’s condition is the same, but I’m here to check on him one last time before I leave for the night. This is Sherry,” the doctor introduced the woman beside him.

Sherry gave Jennifer a gentle smile, which Jennifer awkwardly returned. “I’m usually a nurse in the Neonatal unit,” she explained. “But I’ve been moved to both intensive care units. I will be looking after Justin, three nights a week.”

“And what are you giving him now?” Jennifer asked as she watched the woman move around the I.V. and medicine bags on the metal stand.

“That’s a Diuretic,” Stephen answered as he opened one of Justin’s eyes and flashed a light into it. “They are used to decrease the amount of water in Justin’s body. He was given this same treatment when he was first brought in, but we needed to hold off on its regular use until he was completely stable.”

“But what is it for?” Jennifer implored. She wanted to know everything about the care her son was receiving. It would make it easier for her to understand, deal with, and to also form her own opinion of his health and future.”

Sensing the woman’s unease, Sherry answered Jennifer’s question in a gentle voice as she hooked the bag up to the I.V. “This makes less water available to the brain. The water feeds swelling and this will hinder it.”

“But won’t he get dehydrated?” Jennifer asked, alarmed at the prospect of the medicine sucking her child dry of fluid.

“We’ll monitor him very closely,” Sherry assured the woman. “He is still receiving the saline but this medicine will act as a blanket to assure that the water Justin retains is only enough to keep him stable.”

Dr. Glass entered in some information on the medical chart and placed it at the foot of Justin’s bed. Then, he took out a neck brace from the drawer of the medical cart. “I see that he still has some involuntary muscle outbursts,” he observed.

“I thought you said that was normal,” Jennifer gasped.

“It is, in the first hours after surgery,” Stephen answered, leaving out the rest of what he was going to say. He didn’t want to alarm the mother more than she already was. He brought the brace over to Justin. “But we need to elevate his body. We can’t be sure of his body’s movements at this time, so we need to make certain that he does not move his neck.”

Sherry helped the doctor keep Justin still as they secured the brace and then elevated the bed. She saw Jennifer giving them a confused look and explained, “This position decreases the intracranial pressure by allowing blood and cerebrospinal fluid to drain from Justin’s brain.”

Jennifer winced at the words the woman used. Intracranial pressure sounded to her like something from an alien movie. “Oh!” she gasped in fright when Justin’s knee kicked up under the blankets. “Is he okay?”

“It’s all right, Mrs. Taylor, that is Justin’s body reacting and reacquainting his nerves with the new position,” Stephen assured. With such a large movement from Justin, he had to give her an inkling of what might happen in the future. “Right now, I’m not worried about it. But, if these movements still continue next week, then we’ll have to talk about a new care plan for Justin.”

“Why don’t you go home and get some rest?” Sherry suggested as Jennifer regained her seat beside Justin’s bed.

“No,” Jennifer firmly told the woman. “I’ll be right by his side until he wakes up.”

“You won’t be able to keep your eyes open long enough to see his eyes open,” Stephen told her. “You really should go home. Sherry will be here all night, Mrs. Taylor.”

“I promised my daughter that I would be home for Christmas,” Jennifer spoke in a loud voice. “You both had better get used to me being here, because besides that day, I will be here, every moment that I can be. He’s my son. With the exception of caring for my daughter’s needs, I won’t leave his side until he walks out of this hospital with me.”
 

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