She didn't know how long they'd been sitting in the waiting room, or how Matt was doing. The last thing they'd heard was that he was being taken in for a CT scan. She wasn't one who could sit in this situation, and she was sure she'd made fifty laps around the waiting room before Kendra came out to speak to them.
"We got his seizure activity controlled for now. His CT shows a subdural hematoma, which is very serious at this point especially given the seizures. Right now, he's going in for emergency surgery to relieve the pressure." Her hand covered her mouth, fighting tears back. This could change everything, this could end everything, and she wasn't ready for that. She wasn't ready to lose him. She didn't understand why life couldn't just go her way for once, to stop throwing her the curveball.
"Gabby, you need to sit down," Herrmann said, supporting most of Gabby's body weight. She hadn't realized her knees had started to buckle or that tears had started to cascade down her cheeks. And she did as he said, sat right there in the middle of the hallway on the linoleum. Herrmann knelt with her, wrapping her in his arms as she struggled to breathe through the sobs. An overreaction? No. They all knew there was a good possibility that Matt wouldn't come out of this, or if he did, he'd be a changed man forever.
Once she had composed herself enough, Herrmann had helped her stand and move over to an actual seat. After that, it was just more waiting, more worrying. Every once in awhile, somebody would stand and walk away, only to come back a few minutes later with food or a drink. Eventually, Cindy showed up with refreshments for everybody.
"I figured you guys hadn't eaten yet, so I brought sandwiches," she said, walking around the room, letting each person grab one out of the tupperware container. But Gabby couldn't bring herself to eat. She knew that if she did, her anxiety would make it end up on the floor within minutes. As everyone ate, Cindy sat with Herrmann, holding his hand and being his rock. It made her think of what she and Matt should be.
"Hey, guys," Kendra said, walking up to the group. She looked at the clock. They'd been waiting sixteen hours for news of any kind, nobody complaining. Nobody saying they should go home. "He's out of surgery, which we're hoping was a success?"
"Hoping. What… What does that mean?" Boden asked her. Most of the team had stood, waiting for news. Gabby had stayed sitting, knowing that if it was bad it was better to lose it while sitting rather than standing.
"Intracranial pressure is at a normal level, which means they successfully drained the blood. However, this is where things get complicated. Since this was a head injury, there is going to be brain swelling that can't be controlled by draining since it's the brain itself that will swell. If it get's too bad, they'll remove a piece of his skull, but right now we wait. He won't be awake for a while, but they're hopeful he'll regain full neurological function," she finished, waiting for any questions since somebody usually had some.
"When can we see him?" Gabby finally asked, voice broken a strained. She stayed curled up in the chair, looking at Kendra - only at Kendra. Gabby's hands shook, biting her bottom lip.
"Right now, he's being closely monitored and is at a high risk for an infection, so we can't let anybody except family in. In a few days, he might be stable enough for a couple visitors." She nodded, stayed sitting. "I'll make sure you guys find out if there's any change."
"Alright guys, let's get back to the station and get the gear off. Then, go home and get rest. We all need it," Boden told them. She knew they had to get the rigs back, but she couldn't get her body to move. She didn't want to move. Shay knelt in front of her.
"Give me the radio, and you can stay here. I'll bring you some clothes in a little while." Gabby handed the radio over to her partner, eyes locked on the wall behind Shay. Everyone walked away, a few glancing back at her before turning the corner. Once they were gone, she looked back up to Kendra.
"Is there any way I can see him?" she asked, voice shaking this time. Kendra nodded, motioning for her to stand.
"I can't let you into his room, but there's a window. You can't sit outside his room, however, you can sit in the waiting room for his wing." A smile smile played across her face, but not enough to make her happy. Just enough to know all hope wasn't lost. As they walked down the corridor, she tried bracing herself for what she was going to see. The irrational part of her hoped he'd look normal, that there wouldn't be wires and tubes. But the rational part knew better, but couldn't fully brace her for the sight. Kendra stopped outside a room, Gabby taking a few deep breaths before she looked through the large window.
When she did, her breath caught in her throat. One hand covered her mouth in shock, the other gripping the windowsill for support. He had cuts and bruises across his face, but with a peaceful look. His chest was rising and falling methodically accompanied by the sounds of the air being pushed and pulled from his lungs, the tube secured to his face. Another tube was coming out of nose, secured across his right cheekbone with a piece of tape, which was hooked up to a bolus bag full of nutrients. An IV was in one of his arms, his head wrapped in gauze. Through the gauze, she could see the external ventricular drain - the tube coming out of the gauze that helped drain any fluid build up around his brain. She heard the methodic beeping of the heart rate monitor.
"The next twenty-four hours are the most critical," Kendra reminded her. "After that, things should get better." She took a few deep breaths, closed her eyes.
"You take care of him," she said, demanding. The other woman put a hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eye.
"I promise, we will do everything we can to make sure he pulls through." The doctor seemed to be the only person who would tell things the way they were, no sugar coating it and no lies. "He's strong," she then reminded Gabby. With a sigh, she nodded, knowing Kendra was right.