"One, two, three," Marlowe counted down, her arms firmly grasping to the gait belt that had been secured tightly around Carlton's waist by Carol.
"Good job, Marlowe," Carol said, standing close behind them for backup.
Marlowe heard her husband grunt a little as she helped him into a standing position. "You okay?" She asked quickly, fear that she was going to hurt him cascading down her hands, willing her to grip the belt harder.
"Yes." He managed through deep exhales.
"Amazing job!" Carol said, walking over to help Marlowe support Carlton's weight so he could sit down on the side of his hospital bed. She bent down to pull his legs up and helped him adjust to a seated position against the head of the bed.
"Come here," Carlton said, reaching up to hold Marlowe's shoulder and pulling her gently towards him. She smiled as he kissed her on the cheek.
It had been three weeks since Carlton first stood up and while he still was unable to take a proper step forward, he no longer needed two people to get him to a standing position. And when he was standing, he was nearly able to support his own weight enough to stand at his full height. This meant that Marlowe could start helping in an effort to learn her new role as the caregiver.
She had figured Carlton would need help, even once he got home, but she could have never imagined the detailed list of daily cares that entailed. Over the last three weeks, as therapies and nurses had helped get him stable enough to move out of the hospital and into an intensive rehab facility, they were also teaching her about his medications and how to help him eat and get dressed and even use the bathroom. The notebook she had been given to keep track of everything was slowly filling up with words she hadn't even known two months ago, let alone pronounce with the degree of ease that she was able to now.
"Well," Carol said, collecting her equipment in her duffle bag. "If you're all settled in bed, that means that I'm officially done with you!"
Carol walked over to Marlowe and gave her a tight hug before reaching out and patting Carlton's shoulder which sat permanently in a sling. Carol had helped him fit it correctly because apparently since his arm was paralyzed, when he began walking the weight of his arm could dislocate his shoulder.
"It has been a pleasure working with you here, Carlton."
"Thank you. Carol." He said, reaching up to pat her hand.
"Now, I say this because I like you, Carlton," Carol said, leaning down and putting her hands on his shoulders to look right at him, "I hope from the bottom of my heart that I never see you again." She winked and looked up at Marlowe. "Or you."
"That makes two of us," Marlowe said, beaming at her husband.
As soon as Carol closed the door behind her, Marlowe refocused on the real reason she had come that day- they were moving out of the hospital. Her heart had been skipping beats with excitement and nerves since she tried to go to sleep the night before. He would no longer be in the hospital. That was amazing. After seven weeks in the hospital, nearly four of which were spent in intensive care while he was unconscious with a tube down his throat, he would finally be free of the bleached white walls and the constant beeping of the hospital. Marlowe for one couldn't wait.
But not being in the hospital also meant that he wouldn't be in the hospital anymore. What if something went wrong while he wasn't hooked up to all the monitors constantly? What if he fell and people were nowhere near him and didn't know? What if he had another stroke?"
She tried to put the fear out of her mind and focus on the positive.
"I brought your black suitcase with some pajamas and button-up shirts for you to bring with me," Marlowe said, holding the bag Carlton used for conferences. "Is this the one you were talking about?"
"Yes."
They chatted mindlessly as Marlowe floated around the room, collecting all the jackets and chargers and magazines that had collected in the room over the last two months.
"It's amazing how much stuff is here," Marlowe said, pulling some loose socks and a collection of Lily's toys out of a drawer. "You don't notice it until you try to move it."
"Sorry I can't help," Carlton said, repositioning his hand in the sling with his strong hand.
It was something that she still hadn't quite gotten used to seeing. Conceptually, she knew that he had been paralyzed. She understood that he couldn't move his hand or his leg the way that he used to. But watching him unable to move his hand without picking it up with his other hand and placing it where he wanted it to be made her stomach drop every time she saw it. It was a sign clear as day and completely unavoidable that he was not the same. And that even if he may be doing better he was not, in all reality, better.
"It's okay. You just focus on sitting there and looking pretty."
"Can do," he said, turning his head past his shoulder to get a good look at her.
"Oh!" Marlowe said, shuffling through her purse, "I almost forgot!"
She pulled out a small brown case and flicked it open to reveal black rimmed glasses. "These finally came in the mail."
After multiple vision screenings had revealed he couldn't see out of half of both of his eyes, the doctors had suggested Marlowe buy glasses to help him make sense of what he was able to see. Marlowe took a step forward and carefully placed the glasses on Carlton's ears, careful to avoid the little red dents that were finally beginning to fade from where the oxygen had sat snuggly against his head for weeks.
"You look good," she said, watching him adjust them a bit and look around. "How do they feel?"
She watched her husband's eyes take in the room, scanning the packed bags and tangled medical equipment.
"They'll take some getting used to," he said, eyes not meeting hers.
"That's okay." She watched his face distort slightly behind the thick lenses as he turned his head.
He's okay, Marlowe reminded herself for the millionth time since the tube was taken out. No matter what had changed, at least he was still here. He had made it through that first night. When all the odds were against him. When death was literally presented to her as inevitable, he had fought for his life. He was still here.
"You ready to go?" their nurse asked, walking through the door with a big cart for their bags.
"You have no idea!" Marlowe said, smiling at her husband as the nurse once and for all untapped the cords from his chest and turned off the monitor. She felt a rush of relief wash over her as the squiggly lines that she spent hours upon hours watching finally disappeared.
"We have all of your medications and follow up appointments in here," the nurse said, handing Marlowe a thick folder, "but other than that I think that you are good to go."
The nurse walked behind Carlton, unlocking his bed and began pushing him out the door, Marlowe following close behind with two months of their lives loaded onto the cart. She turned around to take one final look at the room, little pieces of trash littering the now empty space, and took a deep breath in before turning to follow her husband.
In the elevator, Marlowe held on to Carlton's shoulder who rested his hand on hers.
"Are you sure you're going to be okay in the ambulance by yourself?" Marlowe asked, partially hoping he had changed his mind and would let her come with him. For some reason she still didn't understand, the only way they could get Carlton to the rehab center was by way of an ambulance. Something about safety, they told her. She had planned to come with him, but the night before Carlton had asked her if she would wait until the next morning to come.
"I just think I need to take it in by myself," Carlton had told her, his eyes gazing unfocused out the window behind her.
"But I can come with you and help you set everything up," she said, trying to hide the desperation in her voice. It's not that she didn't understand. With the amount of difficulty Carlton was having engaging in normal and routine things as of late, she couldn't imagine how overwhelming an entirely new environment would be. But she had hoped that he would want her there for support.
"I'll be okay." He said, squeezing her hand. "You go pick Lily up from school."
The elevator stopped and she held the door as the nurse resumed pushing his bed.
"This is your stop," she said to Carlton, stopping in front of a sliding glass door with an ambulance waiting on the other side.
"I love you," Marlowe said, bending down to give her husband another kiss and tightly squeezing his hand, attempting to pour all of her love into him.
"I love you, too." He said, kissing her back, "Give Lily a hug for me."
"Of course," Marlowe said, starting to feel tears stinging the corner of her eyes. "I'll see you soon," she said to his back as he was wheeled away.
She watched the paramedics slide him from the hospital bed to the stretcher to get him into the ambulance before one jumped in the back with him and another walked around the side to the driver's seat.
Slowly the big vehicle pulled away, taking her love with it.
"He's okay," she reminded herself when the ambulance was no longer in view through the glass doors. "That's all that matters. He's okay."
It was hard to watch Carlton leave, not knowing what would happen next for him. And for her. She was scared for what would come in rehab. What if he never got better? What if this was as good as he got and he wouldn't improve anymore? She had since seen the scans from the first night at the hospital. The doctor had pointed to light gray tissue which he said was healthy and dark gray tissue which he told her was damaged. And there certainly appeared to be more damaged tissue than healthy. The fact that he had made this much of a recovery despite being on death's doorstep just two months ago was more than any of his doctors had ever expected from him. "A miracle," they called it. So how much more could she really expect him to improve if this was already more than anyone had thought possible?
More than how scared she was for him now, she was scared for what would happen to him when he got home. Not just him though, but both of them. This sudden change in his ability changed the entire dynamic of their relationship.
Carlton was her rock. He had gotten her through hell. His strong support had carried her through some of the worst days of her life. But now, the power dynamic had suddenly shifted and she had to be the strong one. She had to be the one to carry him- literally. And that scared the hell out of her.
What if she couldn't do it?
What if she was too weak?
What if she broke down?
What if their marriage broke down?
She didn't think she could handle that. But she was so afraid of what would come next. She had to be the strong one now. It was her turn to carry him through hell- to return the favor.
"I'll carry you, my love," Marlowe whispered into the winter wind that washed over her face as she exited the hospital for what she could only pray would be the last time. "I've got you."