Finding My Way Home Page 3

  I whisper to her,” Has there been any change since I left a few hours ago?”

  “No. Mrs. Miller’s readings remain consistent. She has a slight temperature of 100.8, and I am monitoring her temperature every ten minutes. Pulse and heart rate are steady. There have been no fluctuations in the readings over the past three hours.”

  “Is it okay if I stay here with her? I know it’s against hospital protocol, but I need to be with her.”

  The nurse, Jane, gently squeezes my arm and gives me one of those sorry, obligatory responses. I recognize it immediately. We all do this when a patient's family begs for more time. I feel a little off balance and unsteady on my feet. All I want at the present moment is a few minutes alone with my wife.

  “Take all the time you need Doctor Miller. The staff understands the situation, and you have unlimited access whenever you feel the need to visit. If you need me, ring the buzzer. Otherwise, I will be back in ten minutes to take another temperature reading.”

  I am relieved when she leaves the room. I feel selfish because I want every possible moment alone with my wife. I lean down to gently feel her forehead. I can feel the heat on her skin, and I quickly review her chart and make a note to discuss antibiotics should her temperature rise further. Pulling over a chair, I lower the guard rail and get as close to Diane as I can. Her head is bandaged, her left leg is immobilized from the cast, which thankfully, is below the knee. Her left arm is in a cast to the elbow.

  Hot tears erupt from my eyes, and I do nothing to stop them. My mind is a whirlwind of memories, and all of them are precious to me. I think back to yesterday morning. We were so carefree and happy, and joking about our missed opportunity for morning sex. God, how I wish I could go back twenty-four hours.

  Hindsight is a bitch. Nothing good comes from re-hashing what you could have done differently. I link my fingers to hers, lift Diane’s hand to my lips and hold it there. I can’t feel her skin through the mask. Repeatedly, I beg the higher powers to bring my wife back to me. I know the induced coma is the only option we have for the next several days, and I worry about the long-term effects. Head trauma combined with the coma could impair her in some way. We will not know the extent of her injuries until she is awake.

  I am so goddam tired. I release Diane’s hand and rest my head on the mattress. The room is eerily quiet, except for the myriad of machines clicking and beeping around me. I close my eyes and listen to the steady rhythmic sound of the respirator. In and out. Over and over again. Diane’s chest slowly rises and falls in rhythm to the sound. That’s the last thing I remember until I feel a hand on my arm, gently shaking me. My eyes feel like sandpaper, gritty and dry. It takes me a few seconds to focus my vision. Jerry is standing next to me. What time is it? I look at the clock on the wall, and I am surprised to see that it is six in the morning. I’ve slept for five hours.

  My brother lacks the finesse to lie to my face when he said, “Damn, you look like shit.”

  I don’t care if I look like shit. My back protests when I try to stand. Fuck, my back is a twisted knot of muscles. Jeremy sees me struggling and pushes me back in the chair.

  “Sit for a minute,” he said. “I’ll take care of your back.”

  Strong hands press against the twisted knot that is my lower back. Jerry scolds me as he works on my stiff muscles. “You can’t do this Ethan. Diane needs you to be in top form. If you throw your back out, you will be in bed next to her in traction. If you want to stay with her at night, I will have someone bring in an extra bed. No more sleeping in a chair.”

  He’s right, and as I feel my back loosen, I resolve to think before I act. The last time my back protested, I was off my feet for two weeks. I can’t afford that now. “I had no intention of falling asleep. I only came in for a quick visit. It won’t happen again. Have someone bring in a reclining chair and place it by the window. I’ll sleep there if I need to. How is Diane this morning, Jerry?”

  Jerry quickly scans my wife’s chart. “Her vitals continue to improve, no signs of arrhythmia, and her temperature is 100.6. The night nurse administered Doxycycline IV push to ward off post-operative infection.”

  “How long do you intend to keep her under?”

  “I would like to give it at least five to seven days. I still see traces of blood coming from the drainage tube. I don’t want to bring Diane out of it until the fluid runs clear. I also want to give her a chance to reduce the pain threshold. It will be significant if I wake her up now. She needs this time to heal Ethan. Please, be patient. You know as well as I do, if we rush this, she will be in extreme pain.”

  I wish I could turn off my brain and just follow his instructions. I can’t do that. Everywhere I turn is a reminder of how my wife is suffering. Endless IV tubes in her arms and head. Black and blue marks that are so vivid due to her pale complexion that it takes my breath away. I nod my head as my brother continues speaking.

  “If her vitals remain steady, we can move Diane out of ICU tomorrow and into a private room. I know everyone is either at the hospital or your house. We need to keep the environment as sterile as possible. Diane’s temperature is still above normal, and I gave her something again a few hours ago to bring it down. I don’t want to run the risk of infection.”

  I agree with my brother. “I think for the immediate future, we should restrict visitation to just me. I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize Diane’s recovery. I don’t want my children to see all of these machines because I know it will terrify them, especially Kellie.”

  “I think that’s a good idea. Go home and get some rest.”

  As much as I hate to leave, my body is exhausted.

  Chapter Five

  Diane

  I hear voices again. Who is Diane?

  Am I Diane? I can’t remember.

  Do they know me? Are they my family?

  Do I have a family?

  My head hurts. I can’t focus.

  I see a little girl at a zoo.

  Who is the little girl?

  She looks so happy. The images are vivid.

  She is with her father, and they are laughing.

  “Daddy; I want to see the giraffes. Can you lift me so I can see?”

  The father laughs and lifts the little girl onto his shoulders.

  How old is she?

  She claps happily. “Daddy, aren’t they pretty?”

  “Yes, they are, honey. Do you want to feed the giraffes?”

  “Can I Daddy?”

  The man hands the little girl something, and she stretches out her arm.

  Oh, the animal is beautiful.

  I feel excited as she hands the giraffe the food.

  I can feel her happiness. It’s an incredible feeling.

  Now I see the father giving the girl something to eat.

  “Don’t tell Mommy that I gave you a hot dog for lunch, okay sweetheart.”

  “Why would Mommy be mad if I ate a hot dog?”

  “Mommy thinks hot dogs are not good for little girls.”

  “Mommy is a funny bunny. Hot dogs are great!”

  The father laughs. “Yes, they are, do you want another one?”

  “Can I have some of that green stuff on it?”

  “That green stuff is relish.”

  “Oh, can I still have it?”

  Oh no, the image is gone.

  Where did it go?

  Come back, please!

  I’m alone and frightened of the darkness that surrounds me.

  It is pressing me down. I can’t escape it!

  Who am I?

  Ethan

  I receive a very unpleasant call from Doctor Christopher Simmons, Chief of Staff. The Board Members want to see me…now. What the hell do they want? I have a sick feeling I know, and I’ll fight them tooth and nail. When I enter the boardroom, I see the usual faces. I’m looking at the medical review committee, and my blood runs cold.

  “Doctor. Miller, please take a seat.”

  Once I sit down, I feel like
a bug under a microscope. Jerry is in hot water, and I’ll fight them because he saved Diane’s life.

  “Doctor. Miller; it has come to our attention that Doctor. Jeremy Miller, your brother, is the head neurosurgeon for your wife, Diane Miller. He performed surgery yesterday against hospital protocol. As you are aware, the AMA has strict guidelines on how doctors treat family members. The American Medical Association’s Code of Medical Ethics: Opinion 8.19 states, “Physicians generally should not treat themselves or members of their immediate families.” The American College of Physicians Ethics Manual states, “Physicians should avoid treating themselves, close friends, or members of their family. As physicians, we are taught early in our careers to keep a proper professional boundary between our patients and us. It’s obvious to all of us that emotions are a factor in Doctor Miller’s decision to operate on his sister-in-law. His decision to violate hospital policy puts the board in a very awkward position. Doctor Miller is a gifted surgeon, but there must be some form of punishment for his lack of judgment.”

  My blood is boiling with rage. Simmons will not hurt my brother or take any action that will jeopardize his career. “Are you seriously telling me that you want to punish my brother for saving my wife’s life? You were not in the emergency room that night, and before you cast judgment on a skilled doctor, I want you to read the entire medical file. My wife would have died from an aneurysm had Jerry not been in the emergency room with me. What do you want from me? Do you expect me to sign a disclaimer absolving the hospital of any financial responsibility? Is your only concern money? You know Jerry, and I have clean records with this hospital, so I have to ask you again, what do you want from me?”

  “What we want, Doctor Miller is for our medical staff to follow procedures. What we want is an assurance that this event will never happen again. We sympathize with your situation Ethan, but our first concern must be for the hospital’s reputation. If you agree to sign a legal document stating that if your wife’s condition deteriorates, you will take no legal action against the hospital, we will take no further action against your brother. If you refuse, I will revoke his surgical privileges permanently. What I am offering is your only option Doctor Miller, and we need your answer now.”

  “What do I need to sign?” I ask with contempt in my voice. I don’t react well to threats, but I also will not jeopardize my brother’s career. I gave my consent, and ultimately it is my responsibility to protect Jerry. Doctor Simmons slides something across the boardroom table. I am not surprised when I see they are one step ahead of me. After taking a long time to read every word, and I do this to piss them off, I sign my name.

  “Is this all you want from me? Will you now leave my brother alone and let him treat my wife? I don’t want anyone else touching her. If you cannot comply with my request, I will transfer my wife to another hospital.” That got their attention. They cannot afford the scandal of one of their doctors moving a patient, in this case, my wife, to another hospital. I’ve backed them against the wall, and I fucking love it. I trust only Jerry with her care. I sit back and wait while they cackle like fucking hens.

  “I agree on one condition. I want another doctor present during examinations, and this is non-negotiable. Don’t think I don’t know what you’ve just done Ethan because I do. If it weren’t for the seriousness of your wife’s injury, I would assign another doctor today. I’m not cruel Ethan, but my first priority must be for the integrity of the hospital.”

  “No,” I say as I stand to leave the room. “Your first priority should be for the well-being of the patient, and not the reputation of the hospital. How sad is it that you don’t realize this? I’m leaving now. I need to see my wife.”

  My legs shake as I walk down the hallway to the elevator. I punch the down button and take a few breaths to calm my racing heart. No one hurts my family, and if I must resign from the hospital staff, that’s what I’ll do. I won’t tell my brother what happened today because he will lose focus on my wife’s medical care. I say this in all sincerity; I will never forget this day.

  *****

  When I return home, everyone is in the kitchen eating breakfast. God, whatever they are eating smells fantastic. My daughter plows into me, her eyes seeking answers. So is everyone else. “Mom’s condition is the same as it was yesterday. Uncle Jerry wants to keep her medicated for at least a week. The only change is that she had a fever all day yesterday. Her temperature is a little high even with the medication, and Uncle Jerry suggested that we restrict visitation to just me for a few days.”

  Kellie cries out, “But why Daddy? I want to see Mommy.”

  Her crying breaks my heart. I sit down and pull her onto my lap. “Honey, this is what’s best for Mommy. You have to remember that she is still recovering. You don’t want to bring in a pesky bug or germ that would make her sick, do you?”

  The thought horrified my sweet girl. “No Daddy! I don’t want that, but why can’t we see her? I’ll take a bath and take off my clothes.”

  I try not to laugh considering the seriousness of the situation, but my sweet child has a unique way of looking at the world around her. I gather her into my arms and run my hand down her back in an attempt to calm her. “It will only be for a few days baby. Just until we are sure mommy won’t get another fever. Her body is fighting to get better. I promise I will talk to you as often as possible. I will make sure your mother knows you want to see her, but can’t for a few days. It will be okay honey. You just have to be a little patient.”

  Everyone is looking at me as I soothe my sweet baby girl. Joey especially is hanging on to every word I say. My mother is comforting Barbara, and I am so glad my parents are here with me. I need their support now more than ever. My mom knows exactly why we are concerned. I can see it in her eyes.

  My mother breaks the tension in the room. “Do you want breakfast, Ethan? When was the last time you have eaten?”

  “I could eat something.” At that moment, my stomach complains loudly, and everyone hears it. Kellie starts laughing.

  “You have a bear in your stomach, Daddy. You need to feed the bear.”

  I bite on her neck which makes her laugh. I pinch her side, and she scrambles off my lap.

  “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for school, munchkin?”

  “Do I have to go to school today?”

  “Yes, you do. Mommy would be upset if you missed your classes.”

  Defeated, she said, “I know. I just want to stay home.”

  I get up and grab my keys. “I’ll take you to school, and Granny Catherine will pick you up after school.” My two very depressed children follow me into the garage.

  By the time I arrive home, I am too exhausted to eat anything. I manage to crawl up the stairs, and once I enter our bedroom, reality hits me. I fall onto the bed, and I am immediately overwhelmed with memories. Diane’s scent is all around me, and I reach out to hold her pillow. Another scent attacks me. It’s the scent of her shampoo. Holding onto my wife’s pillow, I curl into a ball and cry from the deepest part of my soul.

  I don’t know how long I have slept, but when I open my eyes, I have a fucking headache that throbs like a bitch. My stomach feels as if I have swallowed battery acid. I need food, and I need it now. The house is empty, and truthfully, I need a few quiet minutes to myself. I head to the kitchen and make a cup of coffee. My mother always bakes when she is nervous, as evidenced by the massive amount of pastries on the counter. I grab the first thing I can get my hands on, her delicious coffee cake. In a matter of minutes, I have devoured half the cake. My stomach thanks me, and I have my third cup of coffee. My brain synapsis’ are firing now, and I remember that I still have to call the detective. I grab my phone and head to my office.

  The detective answers on the third ring. “This is Holloway.”

  “Detective Holloway, this is Ethan Miller. You are the arresting officer for the son of a bitch that hit my wife, Diane. I am calling for an update.”

  I hear the clicking of keys,
and then he responds. “We have arrested a twenty-year-old male, Michael Dougherty. His intoxication blood level at the time of his detention is 0.126. Mr. Dougherty has a criminal record. He had been arrested twice in the past year for drunk driving. We have suspended his license, and he will remain in custody until a bail hearing can be scheduled. His lawyer is arguing for home monitoring until the bail hearing. That won’t happen. Three strikes and you’re out. He will serve time for this accident.”

  “What options do we have as far as jail time? I want him to pay for what he did to my wife.”

  “I would suggest you contact your lawyer as soon as possible and file civil charges. Make that happen soon, Mr. Miller. We can only hold him so long without either granting bail, or filing charges.”

  “I want that bastard in jail. Do what you have to do to delay the hearing. I’m calling my lawyer now.”

  This conversation snapped me out of my sorrow and flung me right into a hot boiling rage. I call my cousin Brian Williams, who is also my attorney, and after a thirty-minute conversation, he has all of the necessary information to pursue a civil lawsuit against the son of a bitch. The bastard is staying right where he is.

  Chapter Six

  Diane

  I don’t know how long I’ve been in this darkness.

  You lose all concept of time when all you see is…nothing.

  I've had brief glimpses of a person I assume is me, even if I don’t recognize this person.

  I see birthday parties. I see a wedding.

  I see babies crying, playing, and laughing.

  What I can’t understand is why my mind refuses to recognize these images.

  Why can’t I break free of this darkness?

  Recently, I have been able to feel things.

  I can feel someone touching me. I can feel someone kissing me.

  Who is this person? Is it the man I see often?

  Is he my husband?

  As I concentrate on the image, I feel a sharp pain somewhere on me.

  I can’t pinpoint where it is coming from, and it quickly vanishes.

  All I know is that it hurts, and I want to cry.

  What’s happening to me?