CHAPTER 13

((hey…I'm back sorry for the wait…wow you all weren't jumpy at all about that last cliffy…hahaha…you were all fraking out…your reviews were sun to read…and humorous, very humorous…thanks for all of them…that cliffhanger inspired copious amounts of them…I checked my mail to find 31 messages once and I was stunned…I expected ten, maybe twelve…kudos to all…so here it comes…the cliffhanger continues…read and review…XOXO, CHRISTINE))

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When I've gone too far
When I've had enough
When I'm losin' ground
Feelin' out of touch
I don't run and hide
I just look inside
For a simple piece of mind
Like a neighborhood
On a city street
I know the path
It knows my feet
And when I feel afraid
Feel like checkin' out
You stand up and take a bow

You shine when others need you
You speak and I believe you
I know the light, it guides you
I'll join the line that walks behind you

You shine, you shine
Like a window to your heart I see
All the possibilities
You shine, you shine
And everyday's another opportunity
To shine

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"What the hell?" asked a female nurse, puzzled, "what's going on?"

"There's data!" a doctor shouted, "Hook everything back up, now!" The doctors and nurses hustled and bustled, inserting IVs and ventilators. He was not breathing on his own quite yet.

"Unbelieveable," the head doctor raved.

"It's a miracle," the residency doctor mumbled, "a big miracle, the biggest one I've ever seen."

Miley just stood there, transfixed. He had died and lived in the span of just a few short seconds. Would he survive, now, or was this miracle temporary, giving him a few more minutes on this beautiful earth?

"He seems to be quite stable," a nurse reported. "Do you think he'll make it?"

"Unbelievable," was all the doctor could say.

"If we can just get him to breathe, he should make it," the residency man speculated.

Breathe, Miley prayed, breathe, breathe, breathe. He continued to lie there motionless, as if dead, while the staff continued to check him out, collecting readings and data. The next thing Miley knew, she was being shoved out of the way as they wheeled Jake out the door, whereto you may ask. She had no idea.

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"I'm here, I'm here!" Mrs. Ryan screamed wildly, flailing her arms, crashing into the waiting room. "Where is he? Is he awake? Let me see him! Let me see him!"

"Ma'am," the receptionist replied calmly, "you have to calm down. This is a hospital. The waiting room is meant to be a peaceful, relaxing wait."

"I don't give a damn about anything like that! Let me see him!" Mrs. Ryan was not going to calm down until she could see his life, that he was still alive, and that he wasn't perishing. "Is he awake?! Is he okay?!"

"Ma'am, you need to calm down," the receptionist kept at it, rather annoyingly I might add. "Please stay calm. A doctor will be out as soon as possible. Now, please, go sit down, read a magazine or something, and don't make noise." She said it in a snooty way, hinting that she was better than Mrs. Ryan, and not in a nice friendly way. It was almost like a challenge.

"Don't make noise," Mrs. Ryan imitated, growling. "DON'T MAKE NOISE! FOR GOD'S SAKE, MY SON IS IN THERE HOVERING BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH AND YOU ARE TELLING ME NOT TO MAKE NOISE! WHAT KIND OF PERSON ARE YOU?!"

"Ma'am, another word out of you, and I will call security," the nurse said even calmer, in a bored voice, while typing on her computer. "This is so annoying."

"Another snide remark like that and I will be sure to inform the hospital of our insufferable lack of kindness in your job," Mrs. Ryan said in an even calmer voice, that not surprisingly, was more threatening. Lucky for both women, the doctor came out at this time.

"Mrs. Ryan if you would please follow me," he beckoned, pointing to a small room off the waiting room. Mrs. Ryan angrily followed him in.

"Please excuse Clarissa, the receptionist," the doctor said before introducing himself. "I'm Doctor Howart. I will be overseeing the treatments on your son, during his stay at this fine institution. But, first, back to Clarissa. Please do not hold her accountable for any of her actions. She is a victim of many unforgivable deeds, and she developed horrible eating disorders and self mutilation disorders. She got sick with a psychiatric disease from it. She is employed here, but she is not quite fully here all the time. She is usually exceptionally sweet."

"I am very sorry to hear that," Mrs. Ryan politely commented, "but what about my son?"

"Unfortunately, nothing is yet certain. Because of his "episode" earlier today, we can't be sure whether he will live or die. If he begins to have those often, he will suffer excessive brain damage until he eventually dies from it. If he has no more "episodes", then it all depends if he begins to breathe and if the brain damage is major enough. Intensive X-rays and CT scans show definite brain damage present, but to the degree of life or death, we do not know. We believe he will begin to breathe on the ventilator, eventually, meaning the brain is what we are most worried about."

"So it sounds like he could make it?" Mrs. Ryan asked hoping for confirmation.

"Yes, but, the longer it takes him to wake up, the less likely he will," Doctor Howart replied. "It's already been nearly two months. If he doesn't wake up within the next week, chances are, he's gone. I'm sorry. This is a lot to take in, but it is best if I don't sugar coat it in case he is to die. I want to tell you all the possibilities now. I will be very open and up front with you the whole time. I like to keep people very clued in with what exactly is going on."

"Thank you very much," Mrs. Ryan showed gratitude. "Dr. Helm, the old doctor that had been working on him, had been very reluctant to tell Mrs. Ryan anything, afraid she might take it the wrong way. It drove her insane. Every time she asked him, he would say that Jake was getting better and they were expecting him to wake up within the next day or two, which was not the truth. Back then, they knew it would be a while before he woke up, if he ever did. Mrs. Ryan was so thankful just to have somebody treat her like she's an adult, as nobody else had.

Mrs. Ryan exited the room to an overanxious Miley who wanted to know everything. She sat down and began to tell her the hopes and fears, not leaving out a single detail, not wanting to dishonor Miley's astonishing maturity. She watched Miley's hopeful face fall and rise like the fickle waters in the oceans' deep blue sea.

((I'll write again soon…not much happened his chapter…but I promise it is important…we may see clarissa again somewhere…we may not…you never know…reviews please…XOXO, CHRISTINE))