Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
“Well, Jesus Christ… they need to try new medicines,” Boone snaps.
I’d chastise him but I said almost the same thing to Dr. Yoffe just hours ago. I give Boone the answer I was given. “There’s nothing else to give him. He’s getting everything that he should and it’s not working.”
“Not working. What does that even mean?”
The tears come back and I can’t blink them away. A sob erupts and I swallow it. “It means it’s in God’s hands now.”
“That doesn’t tell me shit,” Boone says angrily even as his hands go to my face to wipe my tears.
“Dr. Yoffe says it’s unlikely that he’s going to recover.”
“No, no, no, no,” Boone barks as he jumps up from the blanket. “Bullshit. They can’t give up on him.”
“They’re not giving up,” I rush to assure him, pushing to my feet. He backs away from me, a hand rubbing at his jaw. “It’s just… there’s nothing else they can do to treat him. They’ve done everything.”
“So is he going to die?” he demands. “Is that what you’re avoiding saying to me?”
“They won’t say that. Only that there’s nothing else medically that can be done to treat the pneumonia or stop the sepsis. They want to talk to him tomorrow. We have some decisions to make, like if he wants supportive care.”
“Supportive care?”
“A feeding tube put in. A respirator to help him breathe because he’ll need one eventually.”
“Jesus fuck,” Boone moans, bending at the waist and gripping his hair with his hands. I feel like I’m watching a movie about how this all played out mere hours ago when Dr. Yoffe sat down with me in one of the conference rooms. I was in flat-out denial. I raged at him. I asked stupid questions, and then better questions. I cried and demanded a second opinion, then asked more questions. I apologized for my behavior and then let him hug me when acceptance started to set in.
Boone straightens, his eyes focusing on me, and I can tell the exact moment when he realizes that I’m feeling every bit of the helplessness, anger and sorrow that he is right now.
“Christ, I’m sorry, baby,” he says as he jerks me against him. One arm wraps around my waist, the other hand goes to the back of my head and he holds me tight while burying his face into my neck. “I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t know how you’re even standing straight right now. You’re so fucking strong and I’m here falling apart.”
“I fell apart earlier,” I say as I squeeze him in return. “And I’m getting ready to fall apart again… right now. I’ll probably do it a million times.”
“I’ve got you,” he whispers, and I start crying. “I got you always. Lean on me. I got you.”
He murmurs the same words of support as I sob out my rage and agony. I feel his tears wetting my skin as we hold each other, and I wonder how I’d ever survive this on my own. The only thing that’s giving me some measure of strength is having Boone at my side.
I’m not sure how long we stand there hugging each other but when we finally pull apart, I feel numb. I know that won’t last long but for now, it’s a blessing.
Eventually, we head back to Aiden’s room. He’s sleeping soundly under a pile of blankets. He’s been having a hard time staying warm so under all those layers he has on flannel pajamas, thick socks and a warm knit cap. I hope he’s dreaming of beautiful things because tomorrow I have to sit down with my brother and tell him he’s dying. I don’t even know how to go about doing that, but I know I’ve got Dr. Yoffe who will help and Boone by my side. My dad’s a crapshoot as he fell apart after we talked to Dr. Yoffe today. He left the hospital and I’ve got no doubt he probably went to find a drink. That’s just not something I can worry about yet.
“You should head home and get some sleep,” I tell Boone.
He gives me a look that says, Dumb idea.
Boone makes up the recliner with sheets, blanket and pillow before settling into it and motioning for me to join him. I drop onto his lap and he extends us into a supine position, pulling a blanket over us. He’s on his back and I’m on top of him, neither one of us comfortable but honestly, there’s no place I’d rather be right now.
I don’t quite manage to fall asleep. I doze and startle throughout the night. Boone seems to always be awake, his hand petting my hair or rubbing my lower back. In low, soothing tones he tells me that everything’s going to be okay and to go back to sleep. I close my eyes again and again, not able to let myself fall under for fear my dreams will be nightmares of Aiden’s death.