Chapter Six: Greater is He (Blanca)
Hobbling around the hospital floor wasn't her idea of freedom, but it was much better than being cooped up in her hospital room. Uncle Wordy and Uncle Spike laughingly offered to hold down the fort, prompting her own laugh as she reluctantly tugged the IV pole after her and out the door. The physical therapist and her nurse for the day hovered as she made her way down the corridor. Then she felt it, a lightheadedness that led to a tingling in her right leg and the beginnings of a quaver in her muscles. Alanna gritted her teeth and continued forward, bound and determined to overcome the lightheaded feeling. But the quaver in her leg grew worse and worse, until finally her leg just buckled under her; she started to fall, but the physical therapist grabbed the large, thick belt around her waist and kept her up until the nurse got a chair under her.
The odd thing was that, aside from her leg buckling, nothing felt wrong. In fact, almost as soon as her leg gave, she felt fine. The nurse and the physical therapist hovered over her, keeping her from standing up; she was rather annoyed when they wouldn't let her finish the walk and made her go back to her room instead.
Of course, Uncle Wordy and Uncle Spike's reactions were completely different; they hovered even more than her nurse when they found out her leg had given out on her. Uncle Spike was so upset that Uncle Wordy had to pass on the news to everyone else.
When they'd finally calmed down enough for her to talk, she gave a little huff. "I'm fine," she informed them. "It was really weird and I don't know why my leg just gave out like that, but I could have walked back." Her head tilted to the side. "Maybe I've been sitting too long," she suggested impishly. She was a bit disappointed when they didn't laugh.
Her Uncle Greg hovered as she walked, an anxious look on his face. Although annoyed, Alanna just kept moving, hoping to get back to her room quickly. They'd detached her from the IV for this walk, which should have been an improvement, but only a minute or so into the walk her head started hurting the way it had the night her 'adventure' had started. She gritted her teeth, hoping the headache would stop, but instead, it just got worse. With her usual reserves still rather depleted and her control over her emotions worn thin, she abandoned being brave in favor of getting back to her room. Alanna let her pain show in her eyes and gave her uncle a slightly pleading look.
"Hurts?" he asked softly. When she nodded, he gestured the nurse over and told her, "I think she's got a headache."
The nurse's expression turned worried and she ushered both back to the room where she reattached the IV as quickly as possible. Alanna suppressed a sigh of relief as the headache faded in moments. The nurse still looked unhappy as Alanna opted for the recliner instead of the hospital bed, but Alanna wasn't particularly interested at the moment in what was wrong this time. After all, it was almost time for The Judge.
The next day, Alanna was playing around with her tablet with her brother looking just as bored as she felt from his post on the sofa. He'd just scooted over to use the laptop Spike was letting them borrow when someone tapped on the mostly closed door. Both siblings looked up and blinked in surprise when they saw who it was. Dean Parker and his mother Catherine were standing right outside the hospital room. "Hi Dean," Alanna chirped, waving the hand that wasn't holding her tablet. "Come on in."
The two entered, Catherine looking both pleased and upset when she realized her ex-husband wasn't in the room. Lance understood at once. "Uncle Greg's getting lunch," the teenager explained lazily. "We take turns so 'Lanna's not alone."
Alanna's expression spoke volumes of her wish to smack her brother's arm; Dean smirked and did it for her. Both of them laughed at the startled look on Lance's face. "You deserved that, brother mine," Alanna remarked.
Lance made a point of sneering back and putting his nose in the air. "I see how it is." That he flounced just so and made room for Dean to sit down went unremarked, even if Dean rolled his eyes at his cousin's theatrics.
"Glad to see you're doing better," Dean told Alanna with a genuine smile on his face. "Boy, was it a surprise when Ed called and told me what was going on."
"Yes," his mother agreed, "Such a surprise that you didn't tell me." Her displeasure at that fact dripped from her voice and her expression was unhappy.
Dean looked embarrassed. "I, um, yeah…sorry, Mom."
Alanna had a private suspicion of what Dean had been fumbling to say…he hadn't thought his mother would be interested. But saying that was impolitic, so she interrupted. "Well, it was a surprise for me, too. Not something I ever want to do again."
"I bet," Dean replied, "Do you know when you can go home?"
The redhead slumped down a bit. "Have to stay for two weeks minimum," she began. "Plus, um, the last couple times they tried to take me off the drip, I got a headache really fast and they had to turn it back on."
"That does seem to be the biggest hurdle at the moment," Uncle Greg agreed from the doorway. He looked unsurprised by the guests, but Alanna had seen her brother's discreet texting from the corner of her eye. "Dean, Catherine." The Sergeant came in and, with an apologetic look at Alanna, dropped his lunch items on her hospital bed. With his arms free, he crossed to Dean and pulled his son up for a brief hug.
"Hey, Dad," Dean managed around his father's hug. "We, uh, Mom thought we should come up and visit."
Alanna watched as her uncle shifted back and beamed at his former wife. "Thanks Catherine." Their argument from the last time they'd spoken seemed to have been forgotten as Catherine smiled back.
Though she said nothing, she looked far more approving of her ex-husband than she had before. Alanna moved the conversation along, asking about how Dean's school and sports team were doing. Lance chipped in, adding his own share and keeping things from getting awkward.
When Dean and his mother finally had to leave, it was Dean who hugged his father, promising to come back when he could. Lance and Alanna pretended not to notice the tears in their uncle's eyes.
Jules had gotten to the hospital first, only to get a message from Wordy that he'd been delayed at home. With a mental sigh, Jules hiked up to Alanna's hospital room and relieved the overnighters: Ed and Sam. She shooed them out the door, promising that she could handle a couple of hours on her own. Perhaps an hour after her arrival, a flock of doctors arrived.
The lead doctor solemnly explained to both ladies, "We're going to do a test to see if we can take you off the IV drip, Miss Calvin. I know you've done this before and it's becoming a concern that you haven't improved significantly during each prior test."
Alanna nodded agreement, a pinch of dread on her face. The doctor shut off the drip and the group waited. Unfortunately, less than fifteen minutes went by before Alanna's face was screwed up in pain and she was starting to clutch at her head. The drip was turned back on, the disappointment of the entire group of doctors clear.
Jules cleared her throat. "What exactly are you testing for?"
At first the doctor regarded her with some caution, but Alanna's nurse slipped out and came back with the paperwork Sarge had filled out, granting his entire team medical power of attorney whenever he couldn't personally be at the hospital. The doctor inspected the paperwork and asked to see Jules' identification. Jules provided it without a qualm, pleased that they were being cautious.
Satisfied that Jules had sufficient authority to make decisions and hear more…restricted…medical information, he explained, "During an event like an aneurysm or a stroke, many body and brain functions shut down, for lack of a better term. Two weeks is normally the amount of time it takes for those functions to 'restart' themselves." Jules nodded as she took the information in. "One of those functions is a system that our brains use to drain excess cerebrospinal fluid. Now, this fluid is constantly being produced by our brains and the excess fluid will drain out of the brain to be dealt with by the rest of the body. Alanna's brain is producing spinal fluid just as it should, but so far the system to drain that fluid hasn't kicked back in."
He made to continue, but stopped at Jules' hand wave. "So how long do we wait for that to happen? And what if it never happens?"
She received an understanding look from the doctor. "That's precisely what we need to discuss at this point, Miss Callaghan. We can choose to give Alanna more time or we can make the decision that the fluid drainage system is unlikely to kick back in and implant a shunt that will do the job for her."
Jules frowned, wishing that Sarge was here; she might have the authority to make this call, but she felt uncomfortable doing so. Alanna asked her own question. "How much longer would I have to stay?" Her longing to go home was so obvious that Jules squirmed.
"If we attempt to give your brain time to restart the fluid draining, it would be at least another week," the doctor replied apologetically. "If the shunt, you would likely be able to go home a day or so after it's installed. But that would require another surgery."
Alanna made a face at that. She shifted towards Jules, then looked back at the doctor. "And if another week doesn't help?"
"Then you would be looking at a shunt in any case."
Put that way, the decision was more straightforward. Jules looked the teenager in the eye. "You sure?"
Alanna nodded. "I don't think it's going to get better, Aunt Jules. I might as well get it over with." And go home.
Jules drew in a deep breath and turned to the doctors. "Let's do the shunt."
Wordy arrived perhaps ten minutes later; he was disappointed by the news, but understood Alanna's line of thinking perfectly. "I probably would have made the same decision, kiddo," he told the redhead.
Alanna smiled back, looking reassured by his response. "Thanks, Uncle Wordy."
With a grin, Wordy turned to Jules. "I'll let Sarge know first. Then everyone else."
"Thanks, Wordy." Jules got up to pace around the room, stretching her legs as Wordy headed off to make a few phone calls. She was just starting to get into a rhythm when the door opened and a female doctor came in, followed by Alanna's nurse for the day.
The doctor walked right up to the bed with a perky smile and a rather superior attitude. "All right, Miss Calvin. We're going to run a quick test to see how your brain systems are doing right now. Then we'll know what our next steps are."
"Excuse me," Jules interrupted, her back rigid, "They already ran that test this morning."
The doctor's perkiness faded. "Oh?" she inquired in a condescending tone, clearly trying to regain control.
Jules' eyes narrowed. "Yes and we've decided what our next steps are." She paused, then added sarcastically, "Since you can't be bothered to read Alanna's file, I don't think we need you in here." When the doctor tried to stare the constable down, Jules just hiked both brows, crossed her arms, and waited. It didn't take long for the doctor to retreat.
In the background, Alanna giggled.
Greg was grateful that Shelley Wordsworth had bullied her way into being at the hospital with him as Alanna went through the surgery to get the shunt placed. Not only did that mean that Lance didn't have to see his sister like this, it also meant that Greg had some much needed immediate backup. Shelley, used to the illnesses of childhood, understood perfectly well how to handle Alanna's very bad reaction to the anesthesia. The blonde woman held a tub for Alanna as the girl threw up what seemed like everything she'd eaten in the past twenty-four hours. When Alanna stopped, looking miserable, Shelley put the tub down in easy reach and quietly instructed the nurse to find saltine crackers and a small Chill for the young girl to eat.
"Easy, Alanna," Shelley soothed, "You're fine, you're all right. We're just going to take this one step at a time and we'll have you feeling better soon."
Alanna nodded. Despite her current unhappy state, she already looked much better than she had only a few hours earlier. She was no longer attached to the IV drip that had been her constant shadow over the past two weeks. Her hair was an absolute mess and Greg was strongly considering making her cut it all off and letting what was left grow back out, but it no longer had the bandaged drain in it. And the anti-nausea medicine was finally kicking in, letting the girl, who'd already lost a fair amount of weight, have something to eat before she dropped off to sleep, cautiously curled around her timber wolf.
Greg had refused, point-blank, to be sent home as night fell and he and his niece sat in her new hospital room. Through the window they watched as fireworks went off; he wasn't sure what was being celebrated, but he felt them apropos nonetheless. After all, for him, the fireworks were celebrating the fact that Alanna was getting better and she'd be coming home soon. Even better, aside from the first couple days, he hadn't seen a single sign of Alanna having permanent brain damage.
Alanna's hair was cut short, practically to her scalp, she had staples in her head, around the new shunt, and the doctors had insisted that she ride in a wheelchair, but she was finally coming home, fifteen days after her initial collapse. She was still weak, her hearing was still much more sensitive than usual, and she tired easily, but she could walk, talk, and eat. It was a heck of a lot more than Greg had dared to hope those first couple of awful days.
Silnok had helped arrange for Greg to rent a minivan at a reasonable price; Greg's thinking was that a minivan had more space and would be easier for his niece to get in and out of. The goblin account manager had approved and insisted that the Calvin estate foot the bill for the rental. Lance stayed with Alanna while his uncle headed to where they'd parked earlier and drove the minivan to the skyway level to pick them up.
Alanna thanked the hospital employee who'd pushed her wheelchair and, with her brother's help, clambered up into the van's front seat. Lance took the middle seat and made sure all the doors were closed. "Okay, we're good," he reported.
At home, the welcome-home soup Shelley Wordsworth had dropped off was waiting for the trio and the living room couch was set up in its air mattress mode. And if, on that first night, Greg found his nephew curled up next to his sister, well, he wasn't going to argue.
Author note: We are in the home stretch! Both with this story and with my time at this company. To my dismay, I was accepted by the company I'm extremely wary and skeptical of. Though none of my misgivings have gone away, I've decided to take this as God's decision and I will move forward in obedience. He's got my back and He always will.
Please pray for my two (three? - Gossip says the third was accepted, but I'm not 100% sure) classmates who were not accepted and will have to wait and do more interviews with other companies. Please also pray that we will get more information (I'm not even sure which city I'll be going to yet) and that we will get to go home before our onboarding date at the end of this month. For myself, I have a number of doctor's appointments and such that need to be dealt with in this gap, so pray for that.
Have a great weekend and our last chapter will be up, as usual, on Tuesday (barring unforeseen circumstances). Also, a Side Story may appear soon(tm)...once I have more information about where I'm going.