Chapter 7
'Hey, man, you ok?' Ryan had just entered the kitchen and found Seth sitting at the table, staring ahead of him.
'Seth?' Ryan had noticed a change in him, ever since he had returned from the hospital yesterday. He had been there with Seth the previous morning but they had found both parents sleeping, and during school yesterday he had been unaware Seth had returned to the hospital once more.
'What happened yesterday? Both Sandy and Kirsten are going to be fine.' Seth looked up at him, and nodded his head although the look on his face was far from positive.
'Do you want to go to the hospital?' Ryan wondered if Seth was just missing his parents- If that was the case, he definitely wasn't going to get confirmation of it from Seth.
'No. I don't want to go back there, Ryan. I can't…do it. I can't help her.' Ryan was now extremely worried about him; what he had just heard was certainly not the average Seth comment. He pulled out a chair and put his arm round Seth's shoulders.
'Mum wanted to see dad so bad, Ryan, but I couldn't let her do that. And she was so…..I left her Ryan. I just left her there.' They sat at the kitchen table for a long time and although Seth said nothing more, Ryan knew his presence was a comforting one.
Meanwhile at the hospital Sandy had woken up. The first thing he thought of was Kirsten and he looked around him, hoping to see her there. The bed on his right was empty and in the bed on his left..
'He's awake!' Mrs Clapham was pleased that she had been the one to spot his eyes opening first, as she had been keeping a constant vigil of her hero since she had been dispatched from the old people's ward after annoying the other patients by constantly repeating the story of how she had been 'carried from a burning building by a true hero.' Her story had become increasing exaggerated to point where Sandy was described as 'a selfless, courageous angel who sacrificed himself to save the life of an old, insignificant woman like herself'. This was why she had been placed in the bed right next to Sandy; there was noone on the other side of her to complain about her constant whisperings to the unconscious man on her right. The nurses weren't sure yet what they were going to do with her when Sandy woke up- subjecting him to her endless worshipping would probably put him straight into a coma. So when the nurse on duty heard the old woman's excited cry, she immediately called for someone to 'take charge' of Mrs Clapham. Sandy stared at the woman next to him and croaked:
'Where's my wife?' Mrs Clapham was about to reply with some adoring but unhelpful comment but she was suddenly heaved out of her bed by two nurses and within two minutes she was strapped back into her wheelchair and was being wheeled briskly out of the ward, leaving a trail of feeble protests.
'Mr Cohen, how are you feeling?'
'Well…Ok actually. Wait, I can't feel my legs- do I still have legs?' The nurse smiled and nodded.
'That's good. Can I see my wife?'
'Er, Mr Cohen you've just woken up. You've been asleep for over 56 hours you know..' She stopped when the Dr Howard approached and took her arm.
'Ah Mr Cohen it's good to see you awake. One minute..' He turned his back on Sandy and spoke to the nurse quietly:
'We're bringing his wife in…' The nurse made a comment and gestured at Sandy and the machine above his head. '..Yes, I know..but we can't just sedating her….she's not to going to get any better if we don't..' he glanced at Sandy and said:
'I wish my wife loved me as much as yours loves you.' They turned away and the doctor shouted instructions to various other nurses, inwardly praying he was doing the right thing.
The nurse pushing Kirsten's wheelchair hoped he would never have to go through the same emotionally and physically shattering experience this woman had experienced. However he did hope that one day when he got married his wife would depend on him as much as this tired but beautiful woman did on her husband. Dr Howard and another nurse walked alongside him: all three were nervous- would the sight of her husband just snap her already thin thread of remaining self-control.
'Hey baby.' Said Sandy when he saw his wife. Her fragility and vulnerable beauty tore at his heart, and when the tears began to overflow from her tired eyes he lifted up his arms with difficulty and reached out to her.
'Sandy..' she whispered and fell forward into his arms. A nurse started forward, worrying about both of their injured bodies, but a look from the doctor stopped her. He waved his hand to dismiss the nurses; he respected the privacy of all his patients, and knew this should be between Sandy Cohen and his wife alone. He himself stayed though; he felt responsible for them. The simple sight of her lying in his arms brought tears to his eyes:
'Christ, definitely time to get some sleep' he thought as he sniffed loudly. The same nurse who had been with Sandy before approached him:
'Doctor, go home- I can take care of this.' He nodded to her and gave a few instructions before walking unsteadily towards the door; he realised the main reason he had not left the hospital since Kirsten arrived was because he felt it had been up to him to make her happy again. As he swayed dangerously near the doorpost he vowed to call in a psychiatrist next time he had to deal with something like that.
Two hours later Seth and Ryan arrived at the hospital: Ryan had at last persuaded Seth to come with him to the hospital so that he could sort things out. However when they reached Kirsten's bed and found it empty, Ryan began to wonder if he'd done the right thing.
'Er…is Mrs Cohen alright?' he asked the nurse on duty, praying the reason for her absence wasn't something terrible. However the nurse, recognising Seth, smiled at them and led them herself to another ward.
'There you go. Your parents are together in here now. They'll be out very soon.' On adjacent beds lay Kirsten and Sandy; she was asleep, this time not due to sedatives, and Seth felt a huge weight lifted of his shoulders as he gazed her peaceful face.
'Hey guys. How are things?' They were surprised to hear Sandy's voice from the pile of bandages and sheets.
'Hey! Dad! I'm glad to see you and your eyebrows are mobile once more. By the way, you're being hunted down by a real man-eater of a granny. Beware.'