Once Leo had given me the okay to go to Germany, I didn't stop moving until I got to her. I don't know how long I had been there, waiting by her bed, mindlessly listening to the news, when she woke up.
When she spoke I'd never been so relieved. She asked what had happened to me. To me. Typical Donna.
And then that Heathcliff guy showed up. With flowers. And that stupid accent. But I knew she still needed me there. And even if she didn't, I needed to be with her.
I picked up flowers of my own for her. She had been so worried that me taking that meeting at the restaurant was dangerous- I wanted to do something nice for her. Plus Heathcliff brought flowers so I probably should too.
When I walked into that hospital room and saw the blood and gauze and medical supplies everywhere, I lost my mind. It was sheer panic. I ran down the hall, looking down every corridor. I would have done anything to find her.
"Where's Donna Moss?"
"Are you a relative?"
"I work for the President of the United States. I have the diplomatic rank of a three star general. Tell me where Donna Moss is."
If she'd heard me say that she would have rolled her eyes at me. She hated when I pulled anything remotely similar to a "don't you know who I am" statement.
I sprinted through the doors marked "Do Not Enter" when the doctor stopped me:
"Whoa, you can't go in there."
"What's-"
"There's been a complication. She's developed a pulmonary embolism. It's a-"
"Blood clot."
A pulmonary embolism. I'm sure the color drained from my face, jaw falling open in stunned silence. This couldn't be happening. The only other person I'd ever known who'd had a pulmonary embolism hadn't lived.
"No, Josh- your father died."
I couldn't breathe.
"What happened?"
"He went in for his chemotherapy and he unexpectedly developed what's called a pulmonary embolism. It's a-"
"It's a blood clot."
"Yeah. It went to his heart and there was cardiac arrest."
But then she asked to see me before she went under anesthesia. I told her it was no big deal, but I could tell she was scared. I only hoped that she couldn't tell how scared I was. She started to cry and it broke my heart.
"Mr. Lyman."
"How's she doing?"
"We encountered a few difficulties during the procedure. She lost a substantial amount of blood. We had to transfuse and call in a vascular surgeon to repair the tear."
"Is she gonna be alright?"
"She's still unconscious. As soon as she's stabilized we'll send her out for an MRI. Between the anemia and low blood pressure, she may have suffered hypoxic brain injury. Decreased oxygen delivery can result in brain damage."
No. There's no way she survives all of this: a car bomb, a military transport, a pulmonary embolism, and suffers brain damage. No. She can't.
Once they let me back into her room, I didn't leave her side. When she whispered my name, I thought I was dreaming. It was so quiet- I just knew I had imagined it. Then she spoke again.
"Josh? Josh?" her eyes were open now, searching for me.
She was awake. She was awake, and she knew me, and she knew I would still be there.
In that moment I couldn't articulate what I was feeling, but as I fly back to the US, alone in my thoughts, what I felt could not be clearer. Relief. Gratitude. Love. Adoration.
I may never get it together long enough to be with her the way I want- to be the kind of man she deserves. I'm sure I'll do any number of things in the future to mess that up. But there's one thing I know for sure: I'll do anything to keep her in my life, and out of harm's way. I'll never again take her for granted. I'll appreciate her, and thank her. Every day. And one day, I'll tell her how I feel.
