:Zuzia:
I had a vague feeling I wasn't in Ocean Park anymore.
"Hello?" My voice echoed. I was in an insanely bright room. It looked like some kind of lobby. The floors were white, the furniture was white, the stairs were white, and the light flooding in from outside made everything beam whiteness.
"Hello!" A little kid's voice echoed from above. I squinted and tilted my head all the way back. Who was that?
There were footsteps coming down stairs starting getting closer and closer to me.
"Hello? Where are you?" I yelled, turning around in a circle.
"Hey, over here."
My eyes met a kid's standing in front of the windows, waving. He was small, maybe 12 years old. Short, brown hair, big, brown eyes… He didn't look like anyone I knew.
"I'm Charlie. It's nice to meet you," He said, walking over to me, "Well it's probably not so nice for you. You're probably unconscious right now for some reason. Know why?"
"Uh…" I stumbled for words, "I'm getting some emergency procedure done or something. I'm not really sure. My stomach started hurting and next thing I knew I was in the OR."
Charlie nodded, "Interesting. Well, we haven't met yet. So are you new?"
"Kind of. I've been here a month," I said, "How did you know I was unconscious?"
He shrugged, "People can only see me and talk to me when they're out. I'm the pediatric ward's coma boy."
"Oh my gosh, you're the kid everyone talks about!" I smiled and extended my hand out, "My name's Zuzia."
He shook my hand and said, "Nice to meet you."
"So… Where exactly are we?" I asked, looking around.
"You know, I'm not exactly sure," Charlie chuckled, "I think it's the Ocean Park lobby but I'm not too sure. I've never been in it. Leo told me that's what it was."
"You know Leo?" I was amazed.
"Yeah, he came here when he was under for his big surgery to remove his leg."
Suddenly I felt like I was pushed by someone, and I stumbled back.
"Whoa, are you okay?" Charlie asked stepping closer to me.
"Mind if I sit down?" I said, but didn't wait for his response. I plopped down onto the ground. Charlie followed my suit.
Immediately, my light-headedness went away.
Charlie's brow furrowed, "Maybe something's going wrong with your procedure…"
"What? It can't be," I said, "McAndrew's doing it. I heard someone say he was the best in the hospital."
"Doesn't mean he can't make mistakes," He simply stated. I swallowed. He was right.
"Oh gosh," I huffed, taking off my sweatshirt, "It's getting hot in here."
"You're really sweaty."
"Thanks," I said sarcastically, "Dude, are you sure there's not an AC in here?"
"I don't know," Charlie said, "I've never had a problem with the heat. It's probably something going on outside."
"I'm running a fever?" I asked. Charlie shrugged.
Without warning, I went rigid and fell backwards. Not being able to work my lungs, I blacked out… In my own black out? The last thing I remembered hearing was Charlie saying, "See you soon!"
My eyes fluttered open. My first instinct was to rip whatever was in my throat out, but my rational side thought it was probably there to help me.
"Hey," McAndrew walked up to my bedside softly, "How're you doing?"
He was wearing a thin yellow gown over his regular clothes, a mask, and latex gloves.
He handed me a whiteboard, "Don't try to talk. It'll make you more uncomfortable. Write down what you want to say."
I took the dry erase marker from his hands. It took me awhile to get my fingers to wrap around the marker properly and even longer for me to figure out how to write again. But I managed to scribble down, my handwriting resembling a kindergartner's, "What happened?"
McAndrew sighed, "Malignant hyperthermia… Is when the body has an adverse reaction to anesthesia. In your state earlier, we had to put you under for the endoscopy procedure to prevent the ulcer in your stomach from bursting. I didn't even think to test you for the allergy – it's so rare. We think someone from your family carried the gene – possibly when the condition was unheard of. Their death would go under undetermined cause."
'My great-uncle died during an operation to remove his hand,' I wrote.
"That could've been malignant hyperthermia," McAndrew said solemnly.
Tears welled up in my eyes as I wrote the next question, 'My mom.'
I couldn't look at McAndrew when I held up the board for him to see. I knew the answer but I don't know, a part of me needed to hear it confirmed.
He hesitated before answering, "Y-Yes, Zuzia."
I started to cry harder, but no sound came out. McAndrew sat patiently until I settled down enough.
"Zuzia…" He began, "I need you to write down everything you're feeling physically right now. Malignant hyperthermia is a serious condition that we need to clear out within the next 24 hours."
I blinked in compliance and wrote, 'Bones ache, sweaty, hot, weak, headache… heart thumping awkwardly.'
McAndrew carefully read my report and nodded. He then looked up at me and smiled pitifully.
"I'm your medical proxy now. So any procedures done on you have to go through me and my consent," He explained, "I'll of course explain each and every one to you and look for you agreement."
'Just like Jordi?' I wrote.
"Just like Jordi," McAndrew agreed, and then stood, "I'll be right back. Get some rest."
Once he stood up, I noticed his wrapped fingers. I didn't know any other way to get his attention then to violently shake the bed handle.
He whipped around and ran over to me, "What? What is it? Is something wrong?"
I didn't have it in me to write, so I just pointed at his hurt hand. He brought his hand up in front of him.
"This?" He laughed, "Just an accident."
He then walked out of the ICU. My eyelids grew heavy. I gave into my fight against sleep pretty quickly. The next time I woke up was to a nurse switching out my catheter. Talk about embarrassing. And uncomfortable. She seemed too interested in my urine. She gave me detailed reports about how my urine no longer looked like coke. It was disgusting.
The next time I woke up, I woke up chocking. I grabbed at my throat. I heard my heart monitor beep frantically. McAndrew shot up from the chair in the corner of the room and rushed over. He pulled the ventilator tube out of my throat and unhooked the mask that kept the tube in place. I took a gigantic gulp of air.
McAndrew chuckled, "Feels good right? Breathing on your own?"
I smiled, a genuine smile, and croaked, "I can appreciate it more now."
He wrapped the tube up and threw it out then said, "A few more hours and I think you'll be able to go back to your room."
"Good," I said.
"Your temperature is 99.7 degrees, your BP is normal, oxygen intake is good, and you're breathing on your own," He stated, "How about the headache and bone aches?"
I rubbed my jaw as I reported, "Practically gone."
"Spectacular," McAndrew concluded, scribbling on my chart.
"You're not wearing a mask anymore," I said.
"No need," He said, "You're getting better."
I looked down at my sheets, "When do you think I'll get to leave?"
"Like I said –"
"No, like, the hospital," I said, looking into his eyes.
"Oh," He said, taken aback, "Oh Zuzia, it's really hard to say. Your first round of chemo is almost done, so then we'll get another PET scan and see how the bone marrow is doing. In the best situation, it'd be go –"
"I get it," I cut him off, looking away.
"Zuzia…" He started.
"No, I get it. I'm sick. I need to stay," I said hoarsely. The conversation ended when there was knocking coming from the windows. In the ICU, all three walls were glass so if I started seizing or something everybody could see.
Both McAndrew and I looked over and Jordi and Emma were standing there. Jordi had the goofiest smile plastered on his face. Emma solemnly smiled and waved. Jordi mouthed, 'Can we come in?' making over- exaggerated gestures mimicking coming into my room.
McAndrew looked at me for approval and I nodded towards them with a big smile. Jordi took off towards the door full speed like a five year old hocked up on sugar. I saw Emma laugh – I couldn't hear her through those thick glass – and follow after him at a much calmer pace.
McAndrew walked over to the door, where there was a clean room, then the doors to the outside hospital world. He helped Jordi and Emma put on the thin yellow robe and their gloves. He stopped Jordi before he walked in though.
"Jordi, you're going to need a mask," I heard his muffled voice through the door and watched and he waved a mask around to Jordi.
"Why only me? Does Emma need one?" He protested.
"Emma didn't run a fever this morning nor has she had chemo in the past two weeks," McAndrew didn't wait for agreement before he slid the mask over Jordi's mouth and nose, "And under no circumstances is that to come off."
Jordi rolled his eyes then pivoted to face me, "Is it safe to come in?"
I smiled, but McAndrew cut us off, "Nope, but in twenty seconds it will be."
"Oh come on, you're killing me here!" Jordi joked.
McAndrew winked at me and pressed a button that sounded like a cosmic black hole was being opened outside of my room. The sound made me feel crappier than I already felt. I was still sporting a fever after all, which meant my immune system was still fighting God knows what off in my body.
Once the black hole ceased exploding my ear drums, Jordi flew in and ran right to my bedside. McAndrew slid out without a word.
"Hey!" He said, rolling a stool up next to me.
"How've you been Zuzia? We've been so worried!" Emma walked in. She was basically strutting, trying to keep her balance in those pumps she was wearing while trying to look sophisticated.
"Yeah, we couldn't get in to see you for days," Jordi breathed, looking down and running his thumb across the back of my hand. The latex of the glove made the gesture significantly less soothing.
"Speaking of that," I said, completely avoiding the topic of my health, "What day is it today?"
Emma and Jordi exchanged looks before Emma said, "It's December 23, well in a couple hours it'll be Christmas Eve."
I nodded slowly while taking the information in. I'd been out for almost three days? Damn. And now I'm going to miss Christmas.
"But it's okay," Jordi spit out, "McAndrew said you'll be fine for dinner tomorrow! And definitely fine for Christmas."
I could feel his smile radiate from underneath that mask. Jesus, I wanted to kiss him. Not enough to risk death though. That's just unhealthy. Pun not intended.
"I feel bad –" I started, but I panicked Emma flew in.
"What? What's wrong? Should I call a nurse?" Emma started skimming over my vitals like they meant anything to her.
"I meant," I laughed – then coughed because being in respiratory failure a couple hours ago really screwed with my lungs –, "I feel bad because I didn't have time to go out and get you guys gifts. I have nothing. I was going to go out with my mom once she flew in…"
I thought I could make it through that story. I really did.
"Zuzia…" Emma consoled and sat down next to me on my bed, "I – I'm sorry."
I took the hand that Jordi wasn't holding and wiped my eyes, "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have mentioned it."
"Hey, hey, stop it," Jordi whispered, squeezing my hand, "Nothing's your fault right now. Don't put this on yourself."
"I – I know. I'm just…" I struggled to think of the right word, "Sad."
"And that's totally reasonable," Emma concluded very smartly.
I guffawed, and Emma said, "What?"
Jordi caught on and stifled his laugh too.
"It's nothing," I said softly, leaning my head back onto my pillow fully.
"No wait," Emma said frantically, "Was that not the right thing to say? Tell me and I won't say it again. It won't hurt my feelings. If anything it'll make me feel better knowing that –"
"Emma relax," Jordi chuckled, "You're good."
He looked at me before continuing, "It was just a very… Emma thing to say."
"Oh," Emma said, "Is that okay?"
"Yes," I smiled. Then just as Emma opened her mouth to talk again knocking came from the window again.
We all turned to find McAndrew standing there. He pointed at Jordi and Emma, then at the door, then at me and mimicked sleeping. He finished his charades off with a thumbs-up sign, and then swiftly walked away.
Emma said goodbye and gave my hand a squeeze as giving a hug when I could barely sit up didn't seem like too smart of an idea. She looked at Jordi.
"Oh, I'll catch up with you in a minute," He smiled. Emma nodded and with a final wave she walked out.
Jordi turned back to me.
"Any particular reason you wanted to hang back?" I teased softly, my eyes growing wearier by the second.
"You mean a lot to me Zuzia…" He scratched the back of his neck, getting nervous to continue, "I really want you to get better. Please make sure you'll get better."
"Well I'm not striving to die Jordi," I said, "It hasn't gotten to that point yet. Where is this coming from?"
Jordi took a big breath in, "When I saw you being wheeled down from the OR… It looked like you were dying. Nobody told me what was wrong. Maybe – possibly – if I could help. And I was scared. I've seen people in those situations before and it never made me feel like I felt when I saw you like that. And I don't want to see you like that again."
He stopped talking and then we locked eyes. I slowly slid my hand out of his and fingered the edge of the mask. I then pulled it down.
"What're you doing?" Jordi said, "I might make you worse."
"I'm feeling a lot better," I whispered. I leaned toward him and before either of us knew it, we kissed. Not for long though, because someone was knocking at the glass again.
The sound nearly made Jordi and me jump out of our skin. He whipped around and looked over his shoulder. McAndrew was standing on the other side. He looked so pissed.
'What do you think you're doing,' he mouthed and held his arms out wide. My eyes were wide and I was gnawing on my lip.
'You,' he pointed at Jordi, 'Come here,' he pointed to the ground next to him.
Jordi scurried out of the room.
As he was taking off all the ICU gear, McAndrew pointed at me, 'You, sleep' then mimicked sleeping.
Not breaking eye contact with him, I slid down further into my bed. Jordi slowly shuffled into view. McAndrew looked ready to explode. I decided to log out of the world at that moment and closed my eyes, willing myself to fall asleep.
