Not Letting You Go
Chapter 9
Margaret and Alan returned to the room to find Donnie still asleep albeit a restless sleep. A nurse was checking Charlie's vitals as well as preparing to take blood for the next round of testing. "How is he?" Margaret whispered as the nurse made her notations in Charlie's chart.
"He's doing well," The nurse offered a smile, "The ventilator's log shows that it hasn't activated in almost an hour; that's really encouraging news." The nurse looked again at Margaret, her smile fading as she nodded toward Donnie. "I know it's not my place to say anything, but he really should get some air. I've seen older siblings worry themselves sick when a younger one is hurt or ill."
Alan stepped up next to Margaret, looking at the nurse then toward Donnie. "When he wakes up I'm going to try and get him out for a bit." Again the nurse smiled, finishing her duties, then silently left the room. Alan and Margaret took their seats next to Charlie's bed, glancing toward Donnie, each feeling a growing sense of worry about their oldest son.
A couple of hours later Donnie finally began to stir. He stretched in the chair, then sat up, looking first at Charlie, then noticing his parents. "Hey." He stood to stretch his legs, "How is he doing? Any more on when they can take that thing off of him?" Donnie gestured toward the ventilator. He stood next to his brother's bed watching the rise and fall of his chest.
Alan stood, looking concerned toward his oldest. "The machine hasn't activated for nearly four hours; he's been doing all the breathing on his own. Dr. McDonald should be here anytime." Alan frowned slightly still watching his eldest, "How are you feeling son?"
Donnie couldn't hide the exhaustion in his voice, "I'm good dad, really."
"I'm sure, "Alan couldn't help the bit of sarcasm in his voice. "After Dr. McDonald comes I'm going to take you to get something besides hospital food to eat." Donnie's face became fearful, terrified at the thought of leaving Charlie, even though he seemed to be improving. Alan noticed this, "Don't worry, I'm not going to take you home unless you want to go, you'd just drive yourself back." Alan knew his son had barely eaten when they had been downstairs earlier, but hoped if he got him out for a bit he could get him to eat. As exhausted as Alan felt, he had at least been out of the hospital when he took Margaret home for a while. He could see the weary exhaustion in his eldest's face. He wasn't only concerned with Donnie's physical well being, but his emotional as well.
Donnie managed a tired smile for his father. "Okay dad, but not too long, please."
Alan nodded. He accepted the small victory his son was allowing, because he knew that if Donnie didn't want to leave the hospital there would be no way, aside from force, that Alan would be able to get him to go.
It was another hour before Dr. McDonald entered the room, a very encouraging expression on his face. "Alan, Margaret," the doctor acknowledged them, "Donnie; I think I have some good news for you." Eager faces met the doctor's gaze as they followed him out into the hallway. "From Charlie's last round of blood work, it looks as if all the depressant has been flushed from his system! From the nursing notes I see that the ventilator hasn't activated for nearly five hours. I feel confident enough to go ahead and have it removed completely."
"Are you sure?" Donnie voiced his concern.
Dr. McDonald smiled at him, "Yes, I'm sure. We will probably remove it within the hour; he will then be monitored here for about another two hours. If all goes as expected we can have him moved into a regular room in the pediatric unit within a few hours. Tomorrow we will start to run the additional tests I mentioned before--to start checking for any signs of damage the drug could have caused."
The doctor noticed Donnie pale a bit. He still wasn't ready to accept that there still could be something wrong with Charlie. "There's still a chance he could be just fine, right?"
Dr. McDonald responded, "There's always a chance he'll be fine, but you have to be ready for the possibility that he may not be." The doctor again surveyed the family before him, knowing they so desperately wanted their loved one to wake up. Yet it was still his job to prepare them for the worst. "Let's look at it this way; he's actually recovering quicker than we'd expected and we are able to remove the ventilator sooner then we'd hoped. Everything up to this point has been very good, let's just wait and see what happens." They all silently nodded. Dr. McDonald turned and left.
Alan turned toward Donnie. "Son, you need to get out for a bit. Let me take you to get something to eat and then maybe, just maybe, you'll decide a shower might feel nice. We could stop by the house for a bit and you could clean up."
It broke Alan's heart to hear the fear in his son's voice, "Dad, I…I can't be gone that long, what if he needs me?" Donnie looked into the room, at his brother. He was thankful that the horribly necessary machine that had kept his brother breathing was finally going to be removed. He wanted so much to see his brother's face without that hose taped to it.
Margaret spoke. "Donnie, honey, you heard the doctor, they could have him moved to a regular room in a few hours. Please sweetheart, for me and for your brother, you need to take a break. You'll be more help to him if you're better rested and have something good to eat in you."
Donnie looked at his mother's worried face, feeling bad that this time the worry was being caused by him. "If I let dad take me home, you'll call if anything changes right?"
Margaret pulled him into a hug, "You know I will." She felt Donnie nod, knowing his mother would, of course, call. Margaret continued, "If you aren't back when he's moved I'll call and let you know the room number, so you don't worry if he's not here when you come back, okay?"
Donnie nodded. "Thanks mom," he whispered. Margaret looked over his back at Alan, who smiled reassuringly at her. They both knew that even though Donnie had slept some at his brother's side, he was very near the point of complete exhaustion. Proof of that being his willingness to give into his parents wishes to go home and rest was proof enough of that. Donnie pulled back from his mom, then much to her surprise, he leaned in and gave her a kiss on the cheek, whispering, "I love you mom." As he stepped back he gave a tired smile to his mother, then turned toward his father. Alan didn't say a word, just placed his hand on the back of his son's neck as they walked down the hall.