Dave was sitting with Simon, his face grave as he attempted to comfort the teenage chipmunk when Alvin burst into the ER's waiting room. It had been a miracle that he hadn't been in an accident himself with how fast his little Miata had speeded to the hospital.
"Where is he?" He shouted, skidding to a stop in front of his family. "What's going on?"
"Theodore's still in surgery, Alvin." Dave said quietly. "We don't know anything yet."
"Well, where's the doctor?" Alvin looked around wildly, his eyes searching for anyone in a white coat who might be a physician. Suddenly Dave was there, taking his hand and leading him gently down to a chair. "I need to talk to the doctor. "Alvin repeated, dazed.
"You need to sit, Alvin." Dave told him gently. "The doctor will be here as soon as he can."
The tears finally started. "They've got good doctors here, don't they? I mean, they won't let anything happen to Theodore, would they?"
"They have excellent doctors, Alvin. We just have to be patient."
Alvin slumped in his seat, suddenly exhausted. "What happened?"
"Theodore was walking back from the grocery store and was hit by a drunk driver. They already have him in custody. I don't know too much more about him." Dave ran his fingers through his hair. It was already sticking up in seventeen different directions due to that nervous habit. "A lady driving past saw the whole thing and called the police on her cell. We really haven't been told anything about Theodore's condition except its critical."
"This can't be happening." Simon kept saying over and over. Dave rested a comforting hand on his adopted son.
Alvin couldn't help but feel the same way. It wasn't real, it must be a nightmare. Soon he would wake up screaming in his bed the way he used to when he was a boy obsessed with monster movies, and Simon would say "Alvin!" in that irritated way he had, and Theodore would rub his eyes and ask him if he was all right, safe in the bed beside him. That's what had to happen, because this...this... he didn't think he could live with this.
Hours passed, and time both seemed to race and to stand still for Alvin. He couldn't imagine what was taking so long. Of course, Theodore couldn't be hurt as badly as all that.
"Mr. Seville?"
Dave stood rapidly, facing the doctor with worry on his face. "Yes, I'm David Seville. These are two of my boys, Theodore's brothers. How is he? Is he going to be okay?"
Yes, he's going to be fine. It looked a lot worse than it was. You can see him if you want. Those were the words Alvin wanted desperately to hear. But it wasn't the words he heard.
"I'm Dr. Rosewood. Would you come with me?"
"Is he all right?" Alvin demanded.
The doctor was a capable middle-aged woman who right now looked very tired. "Please, just come with me. It would be better to do this outside of the waiting room."
"Why?" Alvin said, a frantic pounding beginning in his chest. "He's going to be fine, right?"
"Alvin – "Dave began.
"No, Dave! Why do we have to go into private? She can tell us he's fine right here." He pulled ineffectually against Dave as the older man lead him firmly into the private waiting room. The door shut with a soft click, but to Alvin it might have well been the boom! of a mausoleum door. "I don't want to be in private."
"Mr. Seville, are you sure your son should be here right now?" The doctor asked wearily.
"Alvin, please, sit down, or they are going to make you leave." Those words penetrated the panicked fog that threatened his brain. He looked at Dave, blinking, and sat down hurriedly.
"No, no, I need to be here."
"Go on, Doctor."
The doctor opened up a file folder on the table in front of her. Inside were several x-rays, and she clipped them on the x-ray viewer quickly. Alvin gasped, staring at the shattered bones that even his woefully untrained eyes could tell were severe. Beside him, Simon began to sob. That was even worse – Simon was already taking pre-med classes over at the community college.
"I'm afraid the prognosis is not good. As you can see here...here..."she pointed to several places along the spine, "and here, that Theodore's spinal column was shattered in three places. Blood loss was severe, but fortunately he is not an uncommon type, so we have been able to administer transfusions. Internal injuries were also extreme. He continuing to bleed extensively internally, complicating the already heavy blood loss. We are having trouble controlling that."
She clipped another x-ray up on the light, and Alvin groaned in an almost physical pain. "His skull was also compromised in several places. Severe lacerations to the face and neck is what caused most of the blood loss. The most distressing features of the head injuries are, however, the swelling of the tissues in his brain. The accident didn't damage the brain tissue itself, but the swelling can have catastrophic effects."
Catastrophic effects? He couldn't be hearing this! Dimly, he became aware that from almost the beginning of the doctor's speech, he had been rocking back and forth and chanting , "No, no, no, no..." At the doctor's pause and glance in his direction, he forced himself with some difficulty to silence.
"On a lesser degree-"lesser degree? –"both legs and his right arm are broken in multiple places. He received a total of 224 stitches for the injuries, and another 56 due to the surgeries. As I said, he continues to bleed internally and unfortunately there is little more to do on that front than wait. He is on a respirator and due to the internal injuries of the digestive area, cannot be fed through a nasal tube. If necessary, we will install a jejunostomy tube. This will bypass the damaged areas and allow us to feed him directly into the lower intestine."
"If necessary?" Dave asked.
She sighed heavily. "Your son has been in a very critical accident, Mr. Seville. At this time, we are estimating a 2 percent chance of survival."
Simon lost what little control he had and began to weep in earnest.
"Two percent?" Dave's voice was strengthless. "That's all?"
Dr. Rosewood nodded. "The compounded injuries make survival very unlikely, Mr. Seville. I'm sorry." She paused. "I would recommend that you say your goodbyes."
"Are there any other options?" Dave had tears in his voice. Alvin could barely see him, and then realized that his eyes were awash with tears.
"We can continue to keep him on the machines," She offered without much hope in her voice. "If he survives the next 48 hours, the chances increase greatly that he could wake up." She hesitated. "But his life would be forever altered."
"How so?" Dave asked.
"The nerves in his spine have been destroyed. He would be in a wheelchair with complete paralization from the waist down. His right arm would be impaired, although with dedication and good physical therapy he might have it return to almost normal function. Feeding through the jejunostomy tube would be indefinite, perhaps permanent. He would have to have round-the-clock incontinent cares due to his inability to know when he would need to relieve himself. And, "She breathed deep. "One more thing that you have to consider."
"One more thing?" Alvin couldn't believe that there could be anything worse than the future she had just described for his baby brother. "What's the one more thing?"
"The swelling in his brain." She told him. "It is impossible to tell how extensive the damage is. But this is almost certain – there would be brain damage of some sort."
"It could be mild, perhaps vision or hearing problems. Or, "She said, closing the file. "It could be extensive. Complete reversion to a much lower functional age...one to three month functional age, in this case. Unfortunately, there is no way to know unless he wakes up. The brain is a delicate instrument. It is difficult to know for sure."
She stood. "If you decide, we can turn off the machines. The likelihood is that Theodore would pass away before midnight. Otherwise, we can try and keep him alive artificially until he wakes up – but that is not a strong possibility. I'm sorry, Mr. Seville." She paused as she started out the door. "You have some hard choices to make."
The silence was deafening as the door shut behind her. Simon broke the oppressive silence with a sob, and suddenly was in Dave's arms. Dave was trying to be strong for his eldest son, but Alvin could tell that he was close to a breakdown himself.
"What are we going to do, guys?" Dave asked, looking at them with tear-reddened eyes.
"I don't know, Dave." Simon hiccupped. "What kind of life was she describing for him?"
"I know, but there is a chance his mind could be fine..."Dave himself seemed to know he was grasping at straws. "And Theodore had such a love for life..."
Alvin wished he could cry. He felt numb. My fault. That mantra kept running over and over in his head. My fault. Theodore wasn't dying. It couldn't be possible.
Of the three of them, Alvin had been confident to know that he had been the vitality of the trio...Simon the intelligence...but Theodore had been the heart.
How did you live without the heart that sustains you?
"We need to see him." Alvin said suddenly, almost unaware that he was going to speak. "I think we need to see him before we make any decisions."
Dave looked at him almost gratefully. "You're right, Alvin. We do need to see him." He stood. "I'll go ask the doctor."
Alvin and Simon waited quietly while Dave went to speak with Dr. Rosewood. "Alvin." Simon asked after a moment.
"Yes, Simon?"
Simon looked at him oddly. "Why was Theodore walking home from the grocery store? I thought you were going to give him a ride."
Alvin flinched under his brother's gaze. "I-"
"Guys?" Dave poked his head around the door. "We can see him now."
Alvin leapt up. Simon seemed to have forgotten his question, but Alvin hadn't. My fault.
They went to go and see their baby brother – possibly, for the last time.
End of Chapter 2
I know, I know, angsty...like I said, when an idea grabs a hold of you...
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