Finding My Way Home Page 14

  “Dr. Miller, let us take you. This is an emergency. You can leave your car on the street.”

  My dad said, “Go with the officer, Ethan. I’ll follow you, and call your brother.”

  The twenty-minute ride to the hospital is the longest twenty minutes of my life. When I arrive at the hospital, I run into the emergency room to find my wife. Several of the nurses know me and lead me to her room. What I witness is beyond my worse fear. Diane’s eyes are open, and she is staring blankly at the ceiling. When I approach the bed, she doesn’t turn her head to look at me. She’s not blinking. She’s not moving. She’s catatonic! She is still fully clothed, and now that I can take a look at her, I see the DNA evidence on her breasts and stomach. Her tank top is ripped down the middle, and her bra is open. Her pants and her lace panties are half way down her legs. I feel someone tapping me on the shoulder. When I turn around, I see my brother, another doctor and a police officer with a camera standing next to me.

  “Ethan, please come with me. The police officer and the doctor need a few minutes alone with Diane.”

  “No, I don’t want to leave her Jerry. I need to be with her.”

  “You don’t want to see this Ethan. Please, step outside and let the police and the doctor do their jobs.”

  I turn one last time to look at the love of my life, and the pain that I feel at this moment is so intense, I have no words to adequately describe it. The doctor has a rape kit in her hand. My heart tightens at the thought of my wife being violated in that way. Two fucking hours later, I am allowed to see my wife. Diane is moved to a private room, and thankfully, she has been bathed and is wearing a hospital gown. Her clothes sit on a chair in an evidence bag, and the police officer is writing something on the evidence tag. The officer walks over to me and touches my arm.

  “I am sorry this has happened to your wife, Dr. Miller. I will have my report ready by the end of the day and deliver it to our sex crimes unit.”

  All I can say is, “Thank you.” What else can I say? Kill the fucker?

  *****

  I’ve read the medical report, and the only two words that resonate with me are, “no penetration.” The semen is localized to her chest and stomach. She has a few cuts and bruises on her face, a sprained right wrist and scrapes to her hands and legs. The psychological trauma is much worse. Diane hasn’t moved or blinked in the two hours that I’ve been in her room. Craig Jenkins recommends nasogastric intubation for the immediate future, and I agree with him. In her current catatonic state, eating and drinking are not an option.

  Diane is unresponsive to verbal command and stimuli. The MRI shows no signs of a stroke or bleeding, which is good news for her. Therefore, the problem is psychological, not physical. Once again, my family is in the waiting room. My children haven’t stopped crying since they arrived at the hospital. My father wants to speak to me privately, and we go back to my office.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask him.

  My father sighs and shakes his head. “I called Barbara to tell her what has happened, and she said she had an argument with Diane last night. She accused Diane of faking her amnesia, among other things. I think the argument is why she left the house. She was upset and probably went for a walk and got lost.”

  “That fucking bitch! How could she do this to her daughter? I don’t want them near her. If I see her fucking face in this hospital, I’ll have her thrown out!”

  “Calm down, Ethan.”

  “Why should I? This is her fault! She has always been a bitch towards Diane. I’m done with them. I don’t want them near Diane or the kids. You make sure they stay away from my children.”

  I don’t leave the hospital for the next ten days. Diane remains in a catatonic state. Her skin is a sickly pale color, and she’s already lost weight. I’ve had meetings with several different psychiatrists, and they all say the same thing. They recommend giving her Benzodiazepine. I will not approve this treatment option because Benzodiazepine is highly addictive. Diane has never shown signs of mental illness. Whatever triggered this episode has nothing to do with a mental deficiency. I have also made the decision to take her home. I’ve applied for and was granted an indefinite medical leave. There is no one more qualified to take care of my wife than me. I want her out of this hospital and home with the kids and me. This will be the best environment for her, and it gives me time to come up with a treatment option.

  Diane

  I am floating on a cloud of nothing.

  It is dark and lonely. I welcome the dark.

  I am not afraid of the dark.

  My life is over. I have tried to cope, but I can’t do it anymore.

  This time…I want to die.

  I want to die and fade away.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Ethan

  The day before I bring Diane home from the hospital, I have a serious discussion with my children. Kellie is no longer the active child she was a few months ago. Kellie is withdrawn and moody. She tends to stay to herself and has not played with her friends much since the accident. My heart aches for my sweet girl. No child should have to see a parent sick and broken. I cannot hide this from my kids. Joey understands the gravity of his mother’s illness, but Kellie is just a child. I find it difficult keeping it simple for her, and tonight, I struggle with how much she should know. It will be impossible hiding the intubation tube, catheter bag, and the medical equipment.

  It shocks me how quickly Diane’s appearance has changed in the past few days. Her skin is very pale which makes the bruises that much worse to look at. I have to face reality. Diane could be in this condition for many months, and my kids must face this truth. I don’t want my wife in a nursing facility. I don’t want strangers touching her. We all know these facilities do not have adequate staffing, and I will not risk her health to spare my children pain.

  I sound like a bastard saying this, but what else can I do? I need to take care of her. We’ve talked about this after Kellie had been born. However, you don’t anticipate having to make this type of medical decision in your forty’s. We have a health directive and a living will, but I don’t need a piece of paper to tell me what I should do. I am violating one condition in her health directive. I will not let my wife starve to death. Artificial nutrition is necessary for this situation. And so, tomorrow, I have the unfortunate duty to throw my children into the adult world, whether I like it or not. I decide to take them to my parent’s house in Cape May. Mom and Dad are coming with me. I know I am going to need them.

  *****

  “Where are we going, Daddy?”

  “We are going to Granny and Gramps house in Cape May. You like it there. Remember last summer?”

  “Yeah, I had tons of fun. Can we stay there?”

  “No, this is only a day trip, sweetheart.”

  “Is it because of Mommy that we have to come back today?”

  “Yes, baby. Mommy is coming home tomorrow, and I need to make sure the room is ready for her.”

  “Oh, that’s okay. I won’t have any fun today.”

  My father is driving the minivan, and I’m in the back of the van with my children. My phone chimes with a text message. It’s from Joey.

  What’s going on, Dad? Is something wrong with Mom?

  Not now Joey; today is about you and Kellie.

  Why are you evading the question? What is it? Just say it already.

  I have a few things I need to discuss with the two of you before Mom comes home.

  Is it something bad Dad?

  No. I just want to prepare the two of you for what you will see.

  You’re scaring me. What are we going to see?

  I need a few minutes to rest my eyes. Please, we’ll talk about everything when we get to the house.

  I close my eyes and pretend to sleep because I just need a few quiet minutes to settle my mind, and firm up what I want to say to the kids. By the time we arrive at the house, I pretty much know what I want to say. After having a light brunch, we walk towards the be
ach, tote bags in hand. We never miss an opportunity to collect seashells. It’s such a beautiful day, and I feel like shit because I have to spoil it for my kids. Kellie senses something is wrong with me, and oddly enough, she starts the conversation.

  “You’re sad Daddy. Is it because of Mommy?”

  I take her hand in mine, and we walk towards a quiet spot on the beach. Kellie crawls onto my lap, and Joey sits next to me, sifting sand through his fingers. “I wanted a quiet place because I need to tell you a few things about Mommy before she comes home tomorrow. When she comes home from the hospital, there will be a lot of medical equipment, just like when she was in the hospital. The only difference is that Mommy can’t eat, and she has a little tube in her nose that helps her to eat.”

  “I don’t understand Daddy? How can she eat through a tube?”

  Before I have a chance to answer her question, Joey screams at her. “Grow the fuck up Kellie! Mom is practically a vegetable. She’s as good as dead!”

  Joey’s sudden anger shocks me, and my brain can’t react fast enough to say something to him. I just sit there on the sand and watch my son run down the beach. Kellie is hysterical. She’s crying and can’t catch her breath. I can see my daughter is about to throw up. I hold her the best I can as she becomes sick.

  “It’s okay baby. Joey didn’t mean what he said. He’s just upset about Mom.”

  “He is so mean to me. Why did he say that? Is Mommy going to die?”

  “No, honey, Mom is not going to die.” How do I tell my daughter what Joey said is partially correct?

  “Are you sure she won’t die?”

  “I’m as sure as I can be, Kellie.”

  I carry my daughter back to my parent’s house. She still feels a little sick, so I give her a little orange juice with ginger ale and sit with her until she falls asleep. My mother follows me out of the room.

  “What happened at the beach, Ethan? Why did Kellie get sick?”

  I am so angry with my son, and I don’t hide it from my mother. “Joey lost it and said something awful to Kellie. He said Diane is as good as dead, and what he said traumatized Kellie. I know we are all under tremendous stress, but he has no right to say that about his mother. I need to find him.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  “No, thanks, I need to handle this alone. I have never been more disappointed in my son than I am now. He hurt his sister deeply.”

  “You knew this might happen. He’s been holding in everything the past few months. It was bound to come out at some point. I don’t like that he chose today to explode and hurt Kellie. Take it easy on him, Ethan. I’m sure he feels like shit for what he said.”

  *****

  It doesn’t take long for me to find Joey. He’s sitting on a rock by the edge of a sand dune. He doesn’t see me. I take a few minutes to watch him, and what I see breaks my heart. My son is suffering in silence. I have tried to respect Joey’s need to internalize his feelings, and I now realize that I am partly responsible for what has happened today. I do not want to force my son to talk to me, but I can no longer allow him to remain silent. Joey sees me approach him, and he gets up and starts running down the beach. “Joey, don’t run from me!” I manage to catch up to him and grab the back of his jacket. We both take a tumble onto the sand.

  “Get off me Dad. I don’t want to talk to you. I can’t face you after what I said to Kellie. I can’t look at you and see the disappointment in your eyes.”

  Joey’s words sting because they are true. I said so not fifteen minutes ago to my mother. He’s kicking me in an attempt to break free from my hold on him. I won’t let go of him. I’ll never let go of him. “Stop fighting me Joey and talk to me. Get it off your chest son.”

  One minute my son is fighting to break free from me, and the next, he’s wrapped around me sobbing. I don't want us to have a public display for all to see, however; I’m afraid that if I let go of him, Joey will never let me help him. It’s a pride thing with my son. Always so independent, even as a child. He never let me help him with his homework or school projects. This time, it’s different. I will not let him deal with this alone.

  After several minutes of wrestling on the sand, Joey finally stops fighting me, and we get up and walk back to my parent’s house. He doesn’t say a word to me and walks with his head down, and his hands in his pockets. I stop him before we reach the house. I want to have a private conversation with my son, and so I steer him to the back of the house where my parents have a gazebo.

  “Sit down Joey. We need to talk, and I want you to be honest with me. I’ve given you the privacy you’ve asked for, but now I see that it was a mistake. I should have forced you to talk to me. So now, I’m forcing the situation. I want to know why you said what you did about your mother. That was an awful thing to say to Kellie. I don’t think you realize how much you hurt her. Kellie is just a little girl. You fail to understand that sometimes, and she notices how you treat her.”

  “I’m sorry, Dad, about everything. I don’t understand why this had to happen to Mom. She never hurt anyone, and now look at her. She doesn’t even know we are in the room. What’s happened to her? I’m scared that she will always be this way, and I’ll never again get a chance to talk to her, to tell her that I love her, to have her in my life. I miss her, Dad. I miss her so much. She is my best friend. I can’t stand coming home from school and not seeing her. I know I’ve been hiding in my room, but I can’t help it. The house is so empty without her. I don’t want her to come home tomorrow. I don’t want to see her every day with that vacant look on her face. And, when she does open her eyes, a stranger is staring at me. Mom is gone, and I’m so afraid she won’t come back to us.”

  Hot tears run down my face as I listen to my son finally express his feelings. He hasn’t said one thing that I haven’t thought of myself. Hearing his fear, his loneliness hits me hard because I also feel it ten times worse than he does. I reach out and wrap my arm around my son. When I do, Joey shatters before my eyes. His body is shaking, and I just hold him close to me and let him cry. I see my father looking out of the kitchen window. He has his hand over his mouth, and I know he is crying. I close my eyes and cry with my son. I don’t know how long we held on to each other. Joey finally stops crying, and when he looks at me, I see the sorrow and regret in his eyes.

  “I’m sorry Dad. I never meant to hurt Kellie.”

  “I know son. All of us are under a lot of stress, but you have to remember that Kellie is a child, and she doesn’t understand the harsh realities of sickness and death. I try to keep it in the simplest terms for her, and I don’t want you upsetting her. I want you to come to me when you feel this way. It’s not going to be easy seeing your mother every day the way she is now. We don’t know how long she will be like this, and I don’t want her in a nursing facility because they won’t take care of mom as well as I will. It’s that simple Joey. Your mother needs me. In sickness and in health means something to me, Joey. Go into the house, splash some cold water on your face, and lay down for a few minutes. You can talk to Kellie when she wakes up from her nap.”

  “Okay. I need a few minutes to calm down. I love you Dad, and I’m sorry if I upset you.”

  “I love you too, Joey. Nothing you could ever say or do will change how much I love you.”

  *****

  If I were a drinking man, I’d drink myself into oblivion. Unfortunately for me, two or three beers is all I can handle, so it is with great relief when I see my dad walking towards me with two beers in hand. I gratefully accept the cold bottle and sigh with relief as I down half the bottle in one gulp.

  “How’s Joey. He looked pretty shook up when he came into the kitchen. Your mother told me what happened with Kellie.”

  I sigh and rub my temples. “Joey is a mess Dad. I don’t know how to help him, other than to let him vent when necessary. I never in a million years thought my children would have to face life and death situations at their young age. It kills me knowing I canno
t shield them from all of this. It will only get worse when we bring Diane home tomorrow. Am I making the right decision, or should I place her in a nursing facility? Am I acting selfishly at the expense of my kids?”

  “What other choice do you have? It would be just as difficult having the kids see their mother in a facility with so many other sick people. At least with Diane at home, the atmosphere is more settling for them. Don’t start the ‘what if’ game, Ethan. You are making all of the correct decisions for our girl. Follow your heart son, and you will never have to worry if your decision is right or wrong.”

  “Thanks, Dad. I am so tired. I feel like I could sleep for a year.”

  “Why don’t you go over to that very comfortable hammock and take a short nap. I’ll check on the kids, and I’ll wake you in an hour or two. I’m ordering take-out from Lombardo’s for dinner.”

  “That sound so good. I could use a nap.”

  *****

  I feel like I can’t breathe, and when I open my eyes, Kellie is lying on my chest.

  “Hi, Daddy, did I wake you up?”

  “You did, sweetheart. You’re so heavy. I can’t breathe. Lie next to me before I faint.”

  “You’re silly Daddy. I’m not heavy.”

  I lift my arm to accommodate my daughter’s little body next to mine. “Are you feeling better baby?”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry I threw up on your shoes.”

  “It’s okay honey. It’s happened before; it’s nothing to worry about.”

  “Is Joey still mad at me?”

  “He’s not mad at you Kellie. Joey is upset about Mom and said something stupid. We’ll talk to him when he wakes up.”

  “Oh, okay. I don’t like it when Joey screams at me. Why does he do that?”

  “Joey’s not screaming at you, honey. He just talks loud.”

  “Yeah, like my math teacher. Mr. Randall is always talking loud, and sometimes he spits. It’s so gross Daddy. All the kids laugh at him.”

  “It’s not nice to laugh at someone Kellie. You wouldn’t like it if someone laughed at you, would you?”

  “I would get mad if someone laughed at me. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

  “It’s not nice to make fun of someone.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “Are you hungry sweetheart. Granny and Gramps want to get take-out from Lombardo’s for dinner.”