Chapter 38
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Friday and Saturday were as long as Wednesday and Thursday were, and Edward's fever raged on, showing no signs of breaking. Elizabeth, Jasper, and I sat with him all day both days, taking breaks as we needed them, and talking to Edward when his eyes were open. He didn't respond by squeezing anyone's hand like he did for me on Thursday night, which has me wondering if I didn't just imagine it. I was so sure, but as he lies before me, lost in a haze of fever, I'm having my doubts. I miss him terribly. He's right in front of me, but he's not really here. As I wipe him down for what feels like the thousandth time, I have to remind myself how vibrant and expressive he is when he's awake because it feels like ages since we were together. It's been a long five days.
It's Sunday afternoon, and I'm alone with Edward, for the moment. Elizabeth just left to get us some coffee, and Jasper will be back this evening. Elizabeth has been quiet and distracted. I don't think she's changed her mind about leaving Edward's father, but she seems preoccupied with working out the details of how she intends to do it. We haven't spoken about it since our talk the other night, but it seems to be weighing heavily on her. She cried when she came in on Friday morning, whispering apologies to Edward but not getting into specifics in case he could hear her. After a few moments, she pulled herself back together, and she's been reluctant to leave his side ever since.
Jasper has been doing better. He has his feelings about Elizabeth under control enough that he can hold a civil conversation with her, and he's been an amazing help with taking her back and forth and seeing that she and I eat something other than hospital food in the morning and evening. I don't know if they've spoken about Edward's past, but given how much remorse Elizabeth feels, I'm almost certain she's apologized to him. Whatever has happened between them, they seem to have come to an understanding and both are focused on being here for Edward. I'm so grateful to have them both.
Edward is very still right now. He hasn't seemed conscious since early this morning, and his restlessness due to the fever seems to be decreasing. I don't think that's a good sign.
Sighing, I rest my head on my arm wearily. I'm exhausted. The constant worry for Edward and lack of good sleep is taking its toll on me, and I nod off next to him.
I startle awake, nearly falling out of my chair as I try to figure out where I am and what's going on. An urgent beeping sound fills the room, and my eyes widen. Something is wrong with Edward. I hit the call button lying on the bed next to him, but before I can even stand up to go find someone, Rosalie and another nurse are bustling into the room.
Rosalie goes straight for Edward, and I stand quickly, moving my chair back and out of the way. She unhooks the ventilator tube and attaches a hand-ventilation bag in its place. She begins "bagging" Edward, while the other nurse checks the display on the vent.
"Low pressure alarm, no other indicators," the other nurse reports.
"I'm hitting mild resistance," Rosalie says, as she bags Edward with one hand while checking the ventilator tubing with the other. Suddenly, she disconnects the bag and watches Edward's breathing. I have no idea what she's looking for, but she obviously sees whatever she needs to see.
"No auto-PEEP, I'm going to reconnect," Rosalie tells the other nurse. She hooks Edward back up to the ventilator, and on his first breath, the alarm goes off again. This time his eyes flutter open, and my heart stops in my chest.
"Something's not right here," Rosalie is saying to the other nurse. "Let's—"
"R-Rosalie," I say, my voice shaking with panic.
She stops and turns in my direction, her eyes widening as she sees the horrified look on my face. "R-Rosalie, his eyes …" I stutter, and she quickly turns to look at Edward.
His eyes are barely open, but it's enough to see that the whites of his eyes aren't white, but a sickly yellow color. Come to think of it, his skin looks a little yellowish too. I hadn't noticed it before.
"Dammit!" Rosalie swears. "Kate, I need you to get Evans up here right away, and go ahead and order a chest x-ray and labs for liver function because he's gonna want that much, at least, for starters."
Kate switches off the ventilator alarm and hurries to comply with Rosalie's instructions.
I'm still standing behind Rosalie, trying to get ahold of myself enough to ask what's going on. Before I can manage it, she turns to me, smiling sadly.
"Bella, I'm going to need to ask you to step out for a little bit while we try to sort this out."
"O-okay. Wh-what's going on?" I stammer, desperate to know at least something.
"Well, we don't really know, but he's having trouble breathing right now, even with the vent, and as you pointed out, he's jaundiced."
"That happens when your liver isn't working right, doesn't it?"
"Yes," Rosalie says, nodding. "So we need to run some tests to figure out what's going on. I have your cell number so I can call you when we're finished, or if you want to wait in the waiting room at the end of the hall, I can come get you there."
"I'll go to the waiting room," I tell her. "I don't want to go too far."
Rosalie puts her hand on my arm and squeezes. "This isn't the end, Bella. I'm sure of it. We'll get him sorted out."
I nod uncertainly and slowly back out of the room. The last thing I see is Edward's face—his eyes are closed again, and it looks like he's sleeping. Please, God, don't let this be the last time I see him!
I'm halfway down the hall when I hear my name.
"Bella?"
It's Elizabeth. She freezes when she sees the look on my face, and she nearly drops the coffees she's carrying.
"Oh, my God, did something happen? Is … is …"
"No, no he's not," I tell her quickly. "But we can't be in his room right now."
I take her elbow and lead her down to the waiting room, but I wait until we're sitting to tell her what just happened. "So Rosalie is going to come down here when they're finished and tell us what's going on," I finish.
"Oh, Bella, do … do you think his body is giving up? That his lungs and liver are failing?"
"I don't know," I tell her shakily.
I call Jasper, but it goes to voicemail, so I leave him a message telling him to come as soon as possible. Elizabeth and I sit and hold on to each other, and I do my very best not to consciously think about anything. I just imagine sending all my strength and love to Edward and plead with him to stay with me.
After an eternity, but it's really more like an hour and a half, Dr. Evans walks into the waiting room. My heart leaps into my throat, and although my knees feel weak, Elizabeth and I are on our feet instantly. Dr. Evans holds his hands up to calm us.
"It's all right, ladies. Edward's fine at the moment. Please, sit and I'll fill you in."
I draw in a deep and shaky breath and sit back down. I'm nervous, so I lean forward, my elbows on my knees and my hands balled together as I stare at him, trying to read his mind because he can't tell me what's going on fast enough.
Just then, the door to the waiting room flies open, and a panicked Jasper stands before us. Before he can get a word out, I fly across the room and throw my arms around him.
"It's okay, he's still alive. But he got a bit worse, and Dr. Evans is here to tell us what's going on. Come and sit with us, and I'll fill you in on what happened later."
Dr. Evans looks at Jasper and nods. "It's good to see you again, Jasper. I had wondered if you were still supporting Edward."
Jasper inclines his head. "Yes, sir, as much as he'll let me."
Dr. Evans smirks, and it breaks the tension in the room. We all know how stubborn and willful Edward can be, and we all can't help but smile in spite of the gravity of the situation. This room is filled with people who know, love, and understand Edward, and who would do anything to get him well. At this moment, the bond between us is powerful. I hope it's powerful enough to will Edward through this.
Dr. Evans gestures for Jasper to take a seat. "Edward is stable right now, but I have some good news and some not so good news. First, the good news. We were able to determine why Edward was having trouble breathing. We did a chest x-ray, and we found there was a pocket of fluid around Edward's lungs that had somehow sealed itself off from the rest of the pleura, which is the space where we had put the tube to drain the infection from Edward's chest. This pocket didn't drain; the fluid continued to build up there, which is what caused him to have trouble breathing again, and it's my guess this is what has kept his fever from breaking too.
"So, we inserted a second chest tube on his other side just now, and we were able to drain the additional infected fluid. With any luck, Edward's fever will start to go down now that we think we've removed all of the infection."
Elizabeth breathes a sigh of relief, but I know we're not done yet.
"That all sounded like good news. What's the not so good news?"
Dr. Evans smiles at me kindly. "You're right, Bella. I didn't get to that part yet. The not so good news is Edward is jaundiced, which tells us his liver isn't functioning properly. We did an ultrasound; his liver is still swollen and inflamed due to the cancer, and I suspect his high fever caused by the pneumonia has put additional strain on it. We don't have his bloodwork back yet, but I think when it comes back it will confirm that he's in the early stages of liver failure."
There's a collective gasp in the room.
"Now this doesn't mean his liver will fail for sure, it just means that right now his liver is having trouble doing its job. I'm hopeful if his fever goes down, his liver function will return to normal, but we'll just have to wait and see.
"But if his liver does continue to fail, I'm afraid there's not much we can do since he's not a candidate for transplant because of his cancer. So right now we have to keep our fingers crossed that his fever breaks and his liver function returns to normal.
"I wish I had better news for you, but I still have faith he can make it through this. I think we've dealt with the problem that was prolonging the pneumonia; I just hope we caught it soon enough before his liver function reached a critical threshold. But time will tell. You can go and see him now, but he'll be out for a while yet—we had to give him additional anesthesia to place the chest tube. I'll be back in a few hours with his lab results, and I'll be keeping a closer eye on him until he improves."
Dr. Evans' statement of "until he improves" and not "if he improves" is not lost on me, and it gives me some comfort. He really believes Edward can recover from this, and I'm thankful for him. Not all oncologists have the bedside manner Dr. Evans has.
"Thank you, Dr. Evans," I tell him, the first one of us to find my voice.
"Yes, thank you," Elizabeth and Jasper chime in, and Dr. Evans nods and leaves the room.
Silence falls, and the three of us just stare at each other. After a moment, I can't take it because I know what we're all wondering, and none of us can afford to think like that.
"He's going to make it," I say confidently, and I stand on wobbly legs, holding on to the chair for support.
Jasper smiles a little and puts his arm around me, offering his other hand to Elizabeth to help her out of her chair. "Come on, let's go see him."
We make our way down the hall and back into Edward's room. Right away, the yellow tinge of his skin strikes me, and I wonder how I didn't notice it before. The change must have been gradual enough that you wouldn't notice if you were with him the whole time like I was. Elizabeth and Jasper don't comment on it, and I'm sort of glad Edward won't be opening his eyes anytime soon because seeing them will scare the hell out of Jasper and Elizabeth, and I'm not eager to see them again either.
Jasper and Elizabeth rush right over to Edward, but I'm … disjointed. I need to talk to him—to be alone with him, and I won't get that until this evening when Jasper and Elizabeth leave, so I allow them the time to be with him now. I sit down on the couch, and my exhaustion must have overtaken me because the next thing I know, Jasper is gently shaking me.
"Bella, wake up. It's seven and Elizabeth and I thought you should get some dinner before we go."
"Thanks, Jasper," I mumble. "How's Edward?"
"No change. Dr. Evans came by and confirmed about the liver tests, but he said the results aren't as bad as they could be. He said we just have to wait and see."
I drag a hand over my face and glance over at Edward. Elizabeth is sitting in my usual chair, holding his hand and rubbing her fingers over the back. I don't look too closely because I know if I do, I'll have to go to him, and all the words will spill out of my mouth, but I don't want to do that in front of Jasper and Elizabeth. I need to tell him so many things, in case … I can't bring myself to finish the thought.
Jasper offers to run out and pick up dinner for me before he leaves, but I decline, instead opting to get a sandwich in the cafeteria. I eat distractedly, and by the time I get back to Edward's room, I can't even remember what was on it.
Jasper and Elizabeth say their goodbyes to me, telling me they'll be back in the morning, and giving me concerned looks. But they don't say anything. The strain of watching Edward slowly get worse is wearing on all of us, and I see fear in their eyes as they tell him goodbye for the night. Elizabeth kisses him tenderly on the forehead, and I have to turn away so she doesn't see my tears. I know they're both wondering how many more days we have. Hell, the thought has crossed my mind more than once, even though I promised myself I wouldn't think that way. But things look different after long days, and right now, I'm feeling like this is bigger than Edward—bigger than all of us.
Finally, I'm alone with him. The door closes on Jasper and Elizabeth, and I wearily turn to face the man I love. His forehead is sweaty so my detour to his bathroom is automatic—wet the cloth, wring it out, fold in half, and then again. I hope the coolness comforts him. Sometimes, I think its only purpose might be to comfort me.
I sit down on the side of his bed, oh so very carefully because he now has two tubes in his chest. I wipe across his forehead, refold the cloth, press gently on his neck one side at a time then up to his cheeks. It's become a pattern. I didn't want to get used to doing this for him, but somehow, I have and it's become routine. I want to kiss him so much that it becomes routine. I want the feel of his arms around me to become part of me, but not this. Never this.
His eyes open as I care for him and I startle—the neon yellow color is shocking and reinforces how terribly sick he is. His eyelids flutter as he struggles to keep his eyes open, but with his fever so high, there's no way he can focus. But I try anyway. I run my hand through his hair, and he tries to meet my eyes, but he just can't do it. He loses the battle, and his eyes fall closed, but he turns his head a little, leaning into my touch.
I look at him. I mean, I really look at him. His skin still looks yellow, and the circles under his eyes are so dark they look like bruises. His body is radiating heat, and the rash that covers his skin is even more inflamed because of it. He looks thin and frail, exhausted. He looks like he's dying right before my very eyes, as if he's lost to me already. I can't lose him. Not like this.
I can't handle the silence—it feels oppressive, like death itself is weighing down on us—so I combat it with words, with connection.
"Today wasn't a good day, sweetheart. You couldn't breathe, so Dr. Evans had to give you a second chest tube, and your liver is starting to fail. Your fever is so high—I don't know how it can stay this high for so long without hurting you. Maybe it can't, and that's why your liver is failing."
I caress his cheek with the back of my hand. His eyes roll under their lids, but I don't think he has the strength to open them again. Suddenly, I feel lost and alone and desperate, and I would give anything, absolutely anything, for him to be able to respond to me, to let me know he's listening and he understands.
"Edward, I love you, and I'm not ready to let you go. You can't let go! Not when you just told me you love me, and you've decided to try to beat this. I know you have options—you can go back into treatment and maybe even be cured if you can just fight off the pneumonia. Please, please, Edward, don't give up.
"I want to spend my life with you, and I don't think I can live without you. There are so many things I want to do with you, so much I want to share with you. You are the most amazing man I've ever met, and I don't deserve someone as sweet and wonderful as you, but it seems God gave you to me anyway. But He can't take you away, not after all you've been through—all we've been through to get to the point where we could admit we love each other.
"I want …" I have to stop because I'm crying so hard my voice fails. "More than anything in the world, I want to tell you I love you and to know you understand. I have to make you understand. I know why you did what you did when you sent me away, but I shouldn't have let you. I should have forced the words out. Fuck! I should have told you long before that because maybe if I had, things would be different. Maybe you would have decided to lift your DNR sooner, and you wouldn't be so sick right now.
"I need you so much. I feel like I'm dying without you here. Without your smile and your laugh and your touch. I'm … lost. And you're lost, so you have to fight off this infection and find me again. We have to find each other. Please, Edward, please! I love you."
A sob escapes my chest, and I break down, hard. I put my arms around him, and I get close, as close as I can, and I hold on, my sobs shaking both of us. I beg God and whoever might be listening not to take him from me, to give us the chance to be what we were meant to be, to give him the chance to have the life he deserves. He deserves a long life. And he deserves happiness, more than anyone I've ever known, after all he's been through. He's had enough pain and suffering to last a lifetime, and now he deserves comfort and peace. Please, God, please.
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Monday, September 10, 2012
I wake up slowly, as I have for the past four mornings, to the soft whooshing sound of Edward's ventilator. But … something's not right. The sound is too close. As I slowly become aware, I lift my head a little bit, and Edward's hand slides off my head and onto his blanket. I must have fallen asleep here last night after my little freak out, but how? I look at Edward blearily, my brain still foggy. Did I imagine his hand there? I don't think I did.
Hope flares in my chest, and a warm smile spreads across my face as I reach up and cup his cheek. "Good morning, sweetheart. Was it your turn to comfort me last night?"
Of course, he doesn't respond, but I just know he did that consciously last night. He had to have. There's no other way it could have happened. As I'm still thinking about it, Rosalie slips into the room.
"Good morning, Bella. I hope you're not too stiff from sleeping like that. I thought about waking you, but you looked so at peace with Edward's hand resting on your head."
"So I didn't imagine it!" I say triumphantly.
"No, you didn't. He must have been aware enough sometime in the night to notice you there and to touch you. I asked the night nurses, and no one's disturbed either of you through the night."
I grin at her as she checks Edward over.
"Well, I finally have some good news," Rosalie says, smiling at me as she finishes checking Edward's vitals. "His temperature has dropped a bit. Only half a degree, but this is the first time since he came into the ICU that it's been below one-oh-four. So I definitely think it's a good sign."
"That's fantastic!" I exclaim, leaning in to kiss Edward's cheek. Maybe I'm crazy, but I think I can feel it. He does feel a little less hot. But he's still yellow. His liver isn't functioning as it should, and it's going to be a waiting game to see if it's going to get better or worse as Edward's fever continues to go down. But I somehow feel as if I turned a corner last night—maybe we both did. This isn't over, but I begged and pleaded with the powers that be to spare him last night, and this morning, we've been given a ray of hope.
"I know you can beat this, sweetheart. You've fought so hard, and it's making a difference now. Keep fighting!"
Monday is a better day, and the days keep getting better after that. Edward's fever slowly inches downward, and his liver function starts returning to normal. Jasper, Elizabeth, and I are ecstatic, and the atmosphere in Edward's room becomes hopeful.
The yellow color slowly leaves his skin and eyes, and as his fever goes down, his restless motion stops. He becomes still—too still in my opinion because Edward is always moving. By Wednesday, I'm so concerned about it that I ask Dr. Evans. Edward's temperature is down to one-oh-one, but he's shown no signs of consciousness since he touched me in the early hours of Monday.
"I think it's exhaustion, Bella. He fought so hard against the infection—now that the threat is diminished, his body is trying to recover. He'll become aware again when his body decides he's recovered enough. You'll see."
But I'm still nervous. It's been over a week since we talked to each other, and it's driving me crazy. He's so close, but I feel like there's an ocean between us. I know I need to be patient, but after all the stress of the past few weeks, I'm a little short on emotional stability.
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Thursday, September 13, 2012
It's Thursday afternoon, and I'm reading from my Kindle. I'm deep in what I'm reading, but something pulls me out of my book world. I glance perfunctorily over at Edward then back down. Wait, did he just move? No, I must have imagined it because I want it so much. I sigh heavily but glance up again anyway. To my utter shock and elation, Edward shifts his legs under the blanket, and it looks like a deliberate motion, not just moving in his sleep.
I stand and run my fingers through his hair. "Edward? Edward, can you hear me?"
His eyes flutter open, and for the first time in eight days, they seem to be focused on me. He blinks slowly but forces them open again.
"Well hello, sweetheart," I say, giving him my warmest smile. Inside, I'm turning cartwheels and screaming, but I don't want to scare the hell out of him, so I keep my voice soft and smooth. I continue stroking his hair, but I slide my free hand under his. "Are you with me? If you can understand me, squeeze my hand twice, okay?"
His eyes never leave mine, but I feel his fingers squeeze mine gently once then a second time. My smile grows even wider.
"Oh, thank God. Sweetheart, you're gonna be okay. You've been really sick for a while, but you're getting better. You have pneumonia. Do you remember? Your fever is going down, and the doctors drained the infection from your chest. If you keep improving, they should be able to take you off the ventilator in a few days. Do you understand?"
He blinks slowly again, and I feel him squeeze my hand twice.
"I love you. I hope it's okay I came back. I couldn't stay away, and after you lifted your DNR and decided to fight, I thought you would want me here."
He squeezes my hand twice more, and I swear it's a little harder this time. His eyes pierce me, saying one thing and a thousand things all at the same time—that he loves me.
My heart swells, and there's so much I want to say to him, but what he needs most right now is sleep. "Rest, Edward. I'll be here when you wake up again—I'm not going anywhere."
He gives my hand one long squeeze as his eyes fall closed, and his hand relaxes as he drifts off to sleep.
"Now or ever."
The minute he's asleep, I slide my hand out from under his and bolt from the room. I jump up and down in the hallway as quietly as I can because I'm in the middle of the ICU. As I'm in mid-jump, the elevator opens to reveal Jasper and Alice. Jasper's eyebrows disappear under his bangs, but Alice knows.
She runs to me and throws her arms around my neck, nearly bowling me over. But I'm so freaking happy, I couldn't care less. "He's awake, isn't he?" she squeals.
"Yes!" I answer excitedly, my grin threatening to split my face. "Well, he's not awake now, but he just was! I talked to him and he responded! He squeezed my hand twice when I asked him to! Oh, God, he's going to be okay!"
Jasper scoops us both up, and we're one big pile of hugs and smiles.
"Happy birthday, Bella!" Alice exclaims.
It's my birthday? I do the math in my mind. Yes, today is September thirteenth. I'm thirty-three today. "Oh my, it is my birthday, isn't it? I completely forgot!"
Alice gives me another hug and whispers in my ear. "And Edward was the first one to give you a present!"
A/N: Things are definitely looking up, and Edward gave Bella the best birthday present, didn't he? The next one is the chapter you've been waiting for, so I won't make you wait. Teaser in Shadow Fics on Saturday, and Chapter 39 will post on Monday. Yay! We're back to Mondays!
Back in January, Come Back Tomorrow won Fic Dive of the Month at A Different Forest, so now it's up for Fic Dive of the Year. Would you guys be willing to go and vote for it? It would be cool for the story to actually win! The link for voting is below, and the poll is open until July 27th. Thank you for your support!
www*.*poll-maker*.*com*/*poll362078x73E94dA9-14 (paste this in your browser and then remove all the asterisks and you'll be there!)
Music for Chapter 39: A Thousand Years by Christina Perri (no, this does NOT mean this is the end of the story just because I put this song on this chapter). The link can be found in the Come Back Tomorrow playlist on YouTube and in Shadow Fics.