Into the Long Night Part I

When I got back to the hospital with Mike and Frank’s burgers, we ate together in the surgery waiting room. They still hadn’t heard anything.

Finally, the surgeon came in. All three of us stood.

“There were complications with the surgery. The aneurysm blew almost as soon as we put her under. She lost a lot of blood and her heart stopped several times. We were able to restart it and repair the aneurysm but she’s very unstable. We’re doing all that we can for her but she might not make it through the night.”

It was grim news.

“And…if she does make it through the night? What are her chances then, doc?” Frank asked.

“If she makes it through the night, her chances are much higher, but brain damage is a definite possibility.”

“Can we see her?” Mike asked.

The doctor lead us to her room. She was hooked up to a lot of tubes.

“She’s still intubated. We tried to take her off the ventilator but she wasn’t breathing on her own. Given her age, she’ll probably need some more time to come off of it.”

“If she makes it through the night, you mean.” Mike said.

“Yes.” The doctor said.

He left us alone with her and Mike and Frank sat down on either side of her. I sat in a chair near Mike. Frank had tears in his eyes. She didn’t look very good; the bandage around her head and all of the tubes didn’t help.

“Mikey…you should…you should call your sisters.”

Mike nodded and looked at me. I followed him out into the hallway. He put his hands behind his head and let out a deep breath, his eyes were red.

“Hey, shhhh, come here.” I said pulling him into an embrace.

“Faith, she’s not gonna make it.” He started crying into my shoulder.

I put my hand on the back of his head and started crying, too.

“Shhhh. Let’s go outside, okay?”

Mike nodded and we found a bench in a garden the hospital keeps open for patients.

“I don’t know what to say to them, Faith.”

“I know.” I said holding his hand, “But they need to know what’s going on, Mike.”

So I sat there and supported him. He took a shaky breath before calling his oldest sister, Maggie. Then his older sister, Claire. And finally, I listened to Mike call Sarah. I listened to him tell them that Betty was probably going to die during the night. I could hear their sobs on the other end of the phone. All three of them said they’d leave as soon as they could. Even though Mike and I sat in silence in the cold, the sounds of his sisters' sobbing echoed all around us like a howling wind that cuts down to your core.

After a few minutes, a nurse came and found us.

“She’s awake.”