Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
When I wake up the second time, the sun is starting to rise. I sit up, wiping my hands over my face. I check on Monroe, but there doesn’t seem to be any change. She’s still hooked up to these machines that are keeping her alive, with a tube down her throat. There’s a lump in mine, but I swallow it back. I need to be strong for her.
I stand and make my way to the bed.
“Morning, baby.” I kiss her cheek. “Love you,” I murmur as the door to her room opens.
In walks Dr. Hamilton. “Good morning, Legend.”
“Doc,” I greet him.
“I’ve been looking over her vitals from last night. She’s stable, which is a good thing. Later on today, we’re going to do a wean test.”
“What’s that?”
“We’re going to turn down the machine and see how she does with breathing on her own.”
“Is that safe?”
“Yes. It’s a crucial test to gauge how her lungs are healing.” He pulls up the chair and sits. “We got the test results back.”
“And?”
“The toxicology report was negative.”
“Told you.”
He nods. “I know. I meant no offense, I assure you. It’s protocol. There are so many families who come in just as adamant as you were who have no idea their loved ones are taking drugs.”
“I understand. I could have handled it better,” I tell him.
He waves me off. “You’d just witnessed something very traumatic. It’s in the past. Now, the chest X-rays and CT scans, along with the cultures and other workup we’ve done, show she has viral pneumonia.”
“She was on antibiotics.”
“She was, but they were not the right antibiotics.”
“I knew I should have made her go back,” I mutter.
“From what I can see from her urgent care notes, she did have a classic case of bronchitis. She was treated appropriately. However, this is just one of those things that can happen. Pneumonia can come on out of nowhere with these kinds of illnesses. Chances are, if you had brought her in, we still would have admitted her for IV medication and fluids, as she was dehydrated.”
“But then she wouldn’t be here, lying in a hospital bed with a tube and a machine breathing for her.”
“We don’t know that for sure. Don’t beat yourself up about this, Legend. You saved her. Five more minutes, and we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Remember that. You saved your wife's life.”
“I’d give mine for hers if I could.”
“We’re going to get her healthy and back home to you.”
“You can’t make that promise.”
“You’re right, I can’t. However, I can look at her stats, and I can have faith in my team and the science behind the medicine. Sure, that’s not always enough, but your wife, she’s a fighter.”
“She is.” I nod my agreement.
“We’ll be in later this afternoon for the wean test. If that goes well, we’ll move her to a step-down unit, and if she continues to do well from there, you’ll eventually be able to take her home.”
“When will she wake up?”
“We still have her in a medically induced coma. If she passes the wean test, we’ll stop those medications, and as they wear off, she should wake up.”
“Should?”
“The human body is often a mystery. That’s how it should work, and I’m hopeful that’s the result we will get.”
“What should I expect when she does wake up?”
“She’s going to be very groggy and in and out of consciousness. She’ll be sleeping a lot, but as time goes by, the grogginess will pass, and she will be more clear-minded and alert. She’s going to have a sore throat for a few days from the tube, and her voice may reflect that.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
He nods and leaves just as quietly as he entered.
“You hear that, baby? We’re going to see if you can breathe normally without the machine. You get to show these people you’re a fighter.”
Grabbing my phone from the charger that Emerson picked up for me in the gift shop, I fire off a text to our parents. I take my time, making sure I give them every detail the doctor just told me. Then I copy that exact message and send it to our friends. Once I have everyone updated, I move to the chair on the other side of the bed and hold my wife’s hand, willing her to open her eyes.
“I’m here, Mo. I’m here, and I need to see those baby blues. Please come back to me. I need you.”
“So, what does that mean?” my mother-in-law asks. “She failed the wean test, so what’s next?”
“It’s not uncommon. We’ll try again tomorrow. Her vitals continue to improve, her fever has broken, and her blood pressure is stabilizing. It’s still a little low, but that’s to be expected.”
“When do we try again?” I ask.
“If she continues to stabilize, we’ll try again tomorrow.”
“So, she won’t wake up before then?” her dad asks.