Jay was there within seconds of Gillian pressing the button. "He's bleeding," she pointed to his mouth where a trickle had leaked out between his lips.
Jay quickly pulled on latex gloves and turned Cal's head firmly to get a better look. He used a gauze pad to wipe away the blood and then used a little light to check inside Cal's mouth. Gillian had backed up out of the way, so far she was almost against the wall and she felt bad, but a part of her wanted to just run and get away from all of it as fast as possible. She wanted to disappear into the wall and wake up from the nightmare. "What is it?" She asked with a tremor in her tone.
Jay turned to look at her over his shoulder. He gave her a reassuring smile. He probably dealt with shaky family members every day. "It looks like the intubation tube rubbed the side of his throat raw a little during the seizure."
"Oh," Gillian said in reaction to the explanation but it by no means made her feel better knowing. It made her think about why he was bleeding and seizures were not a good sign, even if they were common in coma patients.
Jay cleaned Cal up further and readjusted the plastic on his face that held the tube in place. He put Cal's head back on to its side and watched him for a moment to make sure he was ok. "I'll make a note of it," Jay spoke. Gillian wondered if he was talking to her or Cal. He talked to Cal often, like it was no big deal.
There was a knock on the doorframe and Gillian looked over to see Ajay. He held Emily by the hand and she was standing slightly behind him. Gillian quickly pulled herself together and crossed the room to usher them inside. She thanked a god that she had spotted the blood before the younger woman arrived. She introduced Jay quickly. He whipped of his latex gloves quickly to shake hands. "I'll leave you guys to it," he spoke to Gillian. "Buzz me if you need me," the meaning clear.
She nodded and thanked him politely and then put an arm around Emily and guided her around the bed to the side Cal was facing. She pushed her down in to the seat and looked again to make sure there was no more blood. Cal seemed fine. Ok he wasn't fine but there wasn't blood trickling and when he lay on this side, it wasn't possible to see the bandage holding his head together, or the full impact of the bruising on that side of his face.
"Let him know that you're here," Gillian instructed gently.
"Hey Dad," Emily responded. "It's Em." She looked up at Gillian. "Can I touch him?"
"Of course," Gillian answered warmly.
Emily reached out tentatively for his hand. "Oh he's warm," she noted surprised.
Gillian turned to Ajay and mouthed a 'thank you'. He gave a nod. Gillian went to get her purse and the property bag that had been discarded hastily at the end of Cal's bed. "I won't be long," she told him on her way out. He gave another nod and moved to stand beside his wife.
PJPJPJPJ
Gillian headed down the corridor to a quieter section with one of the obvious red biohazard bins. She broke the seal on Cal's property bag and opened it up, holding her breath against the smell of dust and blood. She pulled out his clothes from the top and dumped the lot into the bin. She didn't even want to go through them. She hoped the medical staff had emptied the pockets. She wondered if anything had even managed to say in his pockets during the accident.
In the bottom of the bag were the smaller items Gillian was hoping were there. Cal's phone, his wallet, his car keys, a plastic swipe card for something. It was unmarked. Gillian put his things in her purse and threw the bag into a trash receptacle. She headed for the elevator next and pushed for the down button. She pulled Cal's phone out again while she waited. The screen was blank. She swiped a thumb across the window but it didn't come to life. She tried turning it on but nothing happened. She gave it a little shake, but nothing rattled around inside. Maybe it hadn't been damaged. Maybe the battery was just flat.
From the hospital, Gillian went to the Lightman Group. Before she pushed the door open she steeled herself for the onslaught she was going to have to endure. She wished Cal was by her side; it was so much easier to face everything with him there. She got half way to the reception desk before she was spotted and the questioning began. They wanted updates on Cal's condition. Most of what they knew had been rumour and vague details from a nurse, who was willing to believe that Ria was a family member, when Cal had been in surgery.
Gillian moved the crowd to the conference room and explained what she knew, which to be honest, wasn't much. Cal had a brain injury. They were waiting for the end of the week to see what would happen next. So far, it was a waiting game. There was nothing else his doctor's could do but try and keep the intracranial pressure steady or reducing. So far it was keeping steady. That was the only hope she could give them. She thanked them for their support and for the flowers and well wishes.
"Ria," Gillian signalled the end of the conversation and moved down the hallway to her office. Ria followed along. Gillian fished out Cal's keys and pried off the one for his car. "I would really appreciate it if you took Eli out to get Cal's car."
"Of course," the younger woman reached for what Gillian was offering her.
Gillian then gave her Cal's credit card. "For the charges."
Ria nodded and took that too. "How is he really?"
Gillian straightened up her chin and pushed her shoulders back. "Like I said, we're just waiting to see what happens next."
PJ
After leaving work again with a promise that she would check in with them again tomorrow, and maybe actually see what was happening with the business, Gillian stopped by the day care. It was earlier than usual to pick Lewis up but she didn't particularly fancy spending the afternoon on her own. She took him to the supermarket and let him help her pick out the items they needed for home. Of course most of his suggestions involved chocolate flavoured cereal and animal crackers but the way his face lit up when she suggested they get various other items, like toilet paper, made her heart feel lighter. Lewis was constantly cheerful. Cal told her all the time that their son took after her.
After that they went home. Lewis helped carry bags inside, dragging them down the hallway when his arms got tired. He insisted he could handle the heavy bags but Gillian wisely let him take the toilet paper and the bags of cereal. She didn't care how often he dropped those. She wasn't going to eat the crumbs of processed wheat.
"Mum I have this?" Lewis asked her as she reached up into the cupboard to put away cans.
"What is it?" She asked without turning around.
"Mum!" Lewis called louder. "I have this!"
Gillian faced him to see what he had. A banana. "Yes you can have that," she nodded.
Lewis immediately ripped in to it. He reached out his hand to give her the pieces of skin. "I don't want them," she told him. "Put them in the bin." She signed 'garbage' for bin (realising she had used the British-ism): moving her right index finger under her parallel to her body left arm, down and away to the left. Lewis went to the sink and pulled open the cupboard door to oblige.
After putting the food purchases away Gillian put a load of laundry into the machine. Lewis followed her around the house being 'helpy'. He insisted on carrying one side of the laundry basket from his bathroom and one side of the laundry basket from Cal and Gillian's. Gillian put Lewis's clothes in first. After she had set it to run the doorbell chimed. Lewis looked over at her as if he wasn't sure he had heard something or not.
"That was the door," Gillian confirmed for him, signing 'door': raising both hands in front of her like she was going to push something away, but using just her dominant hand to swing open one side of the imaginary door.
"Oh," Lewis looked excited and raced out of the room. Gillian could hear his feet thudding down the hall as he headed for the front door. She followed after him quickly and arrived in time to see him struggling to pull the much heavier barrier open.
"Hi Lewis," Ria greeted him with a smile. Behind him Eli was half turned, studying the neighbourhood.
"Hi," Gillian greeted coming up behind her son.
"Come in," Lewis reached out to tug on Ria's hand.
"We can't stay," she told him carefully, like so many adults when speaking to a child. She raised her gaze to Gillian and held out her hand with Cal's car key and credit card and the paper from the impound lot. "Aiden met us there so there was no problem getting it back."
"Thank you," Gillian was grateful as she took the items back. She could see Cal's black car parked in the driveway on the far side.
Eli hovered, made brief eye contact, raised his eyebrows to say 'hey, no big deal'. "If there's anything else we can do," Ria added.
Gillian gave her a smile. "I'll talk to you tomorrow," she dismissed.
Eli gave a brief wave before turning and heading down the steps. Ria said goodbye to Lewis and gave him a wave too as she turned to walk away. "Bye!" Lewis called, waving vigorously. "Bye."
"Let's go in," Gillian told Lewis placing her hand on his shoulder so he would look up to see what she was signing: 'in', placing the grouped fingertips of her dominant hand into the 'C' of her left hand, like she was placing something inside. She stepped back inside and turned away. Lewis slammed the door behind her. Gillian went to the kitchen and put Cal's car key back on the loop with the rest. His phone was also there amongst his things and she remembered she was going to charge it. She took it to the bedroom where his charger was plugged into the wall on his side of the bed.
Lewis followed after her and jumped on the mattress while she connected the device and switched it on at the wall. It lit up immediately, a battery icon coming up on the screen to show it was charging. Gillian turned it on and watched it go through its setup ritual. When it was on its usual screen she waited for any messages to come through. There was just one. And it was from her. She opened it without thinking.
LUV U CAL. GLAD WEVE HAD 6 YEARS. LOOKIN 4WD 2 THE NEXT 6 EVEN MORE.
And she started crying.
PJ
Suddenly it was the weekend and Gillian was at a loss for something to do. She was already used to going up to the hospital as part of her daily routine. But now it was Saturday and she couldn't take Lewis to day care. She still hadn't figured out when a good time was to take him to see his father but she conceded she should do it soon. He had stopped sniffing, which meant his cold must have cleared up properly now and she was running out of legitimate excuses. She couldn't keep him from his father forever. What if Cal was in a coma for several weeks? Would she let that amount of time go by without any contact? Lewis asked her periodically where his father was, when he was going to be better and when was he coming home? He caught her crying a few times and came to comfort her in his sweet little way. He asked her what was wrong but she didn't know what to say to him. She was torn between wanting her son around and sending him away so he wouldn't have to deal with her fall out. He wasn't even four yet. This was not something a nearly four year old should be burdened with.
Ajay rang her yesterday to let her know they were heading off again, but with Lewis home, happy and content, helping her hang washing out and later folding it, Gillian didn't make it back to the hospital. Now it had been twenty hours and she was itching to get back and check up on her husband. But what to do with Lewis? She could take him to Kate's she supposed, so he could spend more time with his cousins and then she realised she had a better option. Her parents.
She rang her mother, asked if she could bring Lewis by for a few hours. Her mother readily agreed of course. "It would be wonderful to have you."
"No," Gillian corrected. "Just Lewis. I have to..." she stopped and hesitated. She cursed her inability to come up with a lie on the spot. Usually she was pretty good at instant stories. "I have to take care of some things."
"Are you ok?" Her mother asked sounding concerned.
"Yes of course," Gillian lied.
"Is Cal working?"
Gillian mumbled some assent and quickly covered it by saying she would be around in half an hour.
"You don't give much warning," her mother informed her.
"Yeah sorry. Something came up suddenly." She disconnected the call. "Lewis," she called to him where he lay against her pillow. Last night she had slept on Cal's side of the bed. She missed him. Lewis looked over at her. "Do you want to go and see grandma today?" The sign for grandma was similar to mother: the dominant hand open, with the thumb on the chin, but moving away in a small arch.
"Oh Grandma!" Lewis sat up excited. He returned the sign. "Get dessed," he added signing that as well before climbing out from beneath the bed covers. Gillian felt a pang in her stomach. It was so easy to keep him happy. He found joy in the smallest things sometimes. And it was even more impressive now with Cal missing and the moments when Lewis seemed so insecure. One of the most exciting events for Lewis was visiting family or having family come to visit. Hell he found it exciting when they went to visit anyone or anyone came to visit. How was she ever going to tell him his father might not ever come home? He wouldn't understand, and when he did, it would crush him. Gillian rolled over and buried her face into Cal's pillow. She breathed in the scent of his shampoo. Her stomach quivered. God she missed him so much!
It so wasn't fair this absence of his. How could this happen to them now? After Mitchell, had they not suffered enough? They had already had their fair share of forced absences. Gillian fought back a sob as tears escaped again.
'Please bring him back to me,' she begged is pillow. 'Please.'
"Mum!" Lewis yelled from the door way. Gillian quickly wiped her eyes as he jumped over the bed to her. "Get dessed."
"Ok," she signed to him. "Sorry," she added, forming a fist and running it over her chest in a clockwise direction.
Lewis pulled back the covers. "Get up," he told her. He started jumping again as Gillian lifted herself into a sitting position. She went to the bathroom and made a point to wash her face before Lewis could question her about looking sad again. When she came back, he had disappeared, leaving the bed sheets in a massive tangle.
PJ
Gillian lifted Lewis so he could push the doorbell incessantly. "I'm coming!" Was the call from the other side of the door. Gillian put Lewis back on the ground. She had a day bag packed for him with the usual suspects, toys, change of clothes and underwear, wipes, snacks, a nappy in case he needed it. He didn't really need it these days but it never hurt to be prepared. Sometimes he had accidents. The door opened to reveal Gillian's mother Dana. "Hi Grandma!" He signed to her.
"Hi Mom," Gillian greeted at a far lower decibel. Lewis pushed past his grandmother to enter the house, calling out for his grandfather.
"He's in the den," Dana called after her grandson. Lewis didn't hear her. She turned to her daughter as she stepped inside. "How's Cal? Is he awake? Are you ok? What happened to you?"
"Nothing," Gillian lied automatically, trying to avoid the other questions.
The door closed behind her as she moved to the left, entering the living room. She put Lewis's bag down on the couch. She could see him wandering around the dining room looking for his grandfather. She signed 'granddad room' to him to let him know where he should be looking. The sign for granddad was similar to grandma but from the forehead; room was a bit like closing an imaginary gate in front of her with both hands, holding them out, palms facing each other and then swivelling at the wrist to bring the fingertips to touch. Lewis raced off.
"Well tell me what's happening with Cal. How is he doing?" Dana pressed as she followed her daughter to the lounge. "Sit. Talk to me."
Gillian perched on the edge of the couch. She was really anxious to get to Cal now. It had been too long since she had seen him last. Just because the hospital didn't call didn't mean she wasn't missing out on something. She knew for a fact that something could happen in an instant. That was all it took. "He's in a coma," Gillian admitted. "I don't know for how long."
"Oh my god," Dana pressed a hand to her chest in shock. "Surely his doctor's know something?"
"It's too much one thing or the other," Gillian mumbled. She wasn't making sense. She sighed. "He has a brain injury. He's in an induced coma. His doctors are waiting for the swelling to go down before making a determination. So I don't know whether he's going to be ok or not." And then she burst into tears. That was a nice tidy summation she had been trying to avoid voicing. Her mother got up immediately from her perch in an armchair to sit with her on the couch. She placed a hand over the one in Gillian's lap. The other, she used to rub Gillian's shoulder reassuringly. Or comforting. Or something. She shushed her gently, something she had also done when Gillian was a girl and upset over something or other.
Gillian could hear voices nearing and forced the tears away. She wiped her cheeks hurriedly and tried to ignore her mother watching her with sheer surprise. Gillian was composed by the time her father rounded the corner with Lewis. "What's going on here?" David asked.
Gillian saw her mother give a slight shake of her head out of the corner of her eye. It was a signal her parents had used often when she was growing up. It meant: don't ask now, I'll tell you later. Cal and Gillian had something similar, but it was more just in the way they looked at each other.
"Lewis," Gillian got his attention. "I'm going to go now." She signed 'leave': using her dominant hand with the fingers spread open, starting near her face then moving to the side while closing the fingers together. "Ok?" She finger spelled the question.
Lewis nodded. "Granddad and me goey the park." Lewis signed 'granddad' and pointed to himself and 'play' which was two 'Y' hands twisted back and forth at the wrist.
"That's nice," Gillian told him. Nice: was brushing her dominant hand over the palm of her left hand. She told him to be 'good for granddad'. Lewis nodded that he would. She gave him a quick kiss while she was still at his height, before she got up. She mumbled something to her mother about being a few hours. She really had no plan on how long she would be. And then left before she could be stopped and before she could start losing it again.
PJ
Gillian was greeted with a smile by Julia who was manning the nurses' desk. Gillian gave a smile in return though it was nowhere near as warm, merely polite. She wasn't trying to be rude; it just took a lot of effort. Now that she was in the building and on the correct floor she was tempted to run the last few yards to Cal's side. As she rounded his doorway she found Cal on his back. The pump of the ventilator forced his chest to rise and fall. The heart monitor tapped out a steady rhythm. He almost looked peaceful. The bruises were starting to turn; his face was starting to clear.
Gillian crossed the room to slip her hand within his. His fingers twitched and her heart immediately thundered. She dropped her purse hurriedly.
"Good morning," Doctor Rockwell entered the room behind her.
"His," Gillian started turning her head to him quickly. "Cal moved his fingers."
Avery approached quickly, dropping Cal's chart on to the end of the bed. "Cal can you hear me?" He spoke directly to the comatose man. He inserted his fingers within Cal's other hand. "If you can hear me, squeeze my hand."
Gillian waited, holding her breath. Did he move? He didn't on her side. Did he on Rockwell's side? The neurologist looked over at her. He was asking her if she had felt anything. She shook her head, swallowing the lump of air. "Cal, open your eyes for me," the doctor instructed gently.
Cal didn't move or respond and after a quarter of a minute Rockwell gave up. Gillian stood there for a while longer, looking down at her husband, willing him to move or blink, to squeeze her hand, to try and sit up, to talk to her. Something. 'Please Cal,' Gillian begged numbly. 'Please.'
"I'm glad to catch you this morning," Rockwell went back to get his clipboard. Gillian realised he had actually just given her a moment and his tone now was bordering on that careful 'I have something to tell you' edge.
Gillian glanced over at him.
"I have good news."
"Good news?" she repeated softly. She wanted to feel excitement, elatedness, enthusiasm, hope. What she felt was dejected, disappointed, disillusioned, beaten down.
"Great news," Rockwell corrected. "We're not going to operate again. The swelling is showing signs of going down."
