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Now, sitting next to his hospital bed as he sleeps, I realize just how lucky I am that it wasn’t worse. This situation could have turned out so differently and I am so grateful to the paramedics and doctors for taking such good care of him.
I stretch out in the uncomfortable chair, my back feeling tight and sore, before leaning down to retrieve my purse on the floor. Digging for my cell phone, I pull it out, realizing that I still have it in airplane mode. Switching it off, I pull up my boss’ number and hit call. I know he isn’t in the office, considering it’s almost eleven o’clock at night, but I’d rather leave him a message now than forget to call in the morning.
My mom went home for the evening. It had been like pulling teeth to get her to leave, but after reassuring her that I would stay the night at the hospital and call her if anything happened, she finally agreed. I think she knew there was no way she was going to be able to sleep in a chair given her back issues. And after the day she had, she needed a good night’s rest.
I still think she felt bad leaving, and I understand why. But if she’s going to help nurse Dad back to health, she has to take care of herself. Sometimes I feel extremely guilty for not moving down here with them like they’d asked me to. Don’t get me wrong, a part of me wanted to. But Boston is my home. I didn’t want to leave my job or my friends. My whole life is there.
Harris crosses my mind for the briefest of moments before my boss’ voicemail picks up, drawing me back. I leave a quick message, letting him know I will be out of the office tomorrow and Tuesday and that I’d let him know by Wednesday if I had an idea of when I would be back in town.
When I hang up, I see that I have six text messages. Clicking on the message box, I’m not surprised to see that all six are from Harris.
Harris:It’s only been five hours since I’ve seen you and already I’m having withdrawals.
Harris:Come over tonight. I’ll order from that Chinese restaurant you seem to like so much and we can continue our conversation about who’s the best Avenger. I’ve got a hankering to watch Thor.
I laugh at that one.
Harris:Hello? Are you going to answer me?
Harris:I’m going to tell myself you’re really busy and not ghosting me. Call me when you get these.
The last one was sent twenty minutes ago.
Harris:I’m starting to freak out a little and you’re making me feel very clinger-ish over here. Please text me that you’re okay.
Not wanting him to worry, I type up a quick message and fire it off.
Me:Sorry, I wasn’t avoiding you. I had my phone in airplane mode and I just got your messages. I’m actually in Florida right now. Something happened with my dad. I’ll explain when I see you next.
My phone rings less than a minute later and I quickly move to silence the ringer, not wanting to wake my dad. Standing, I hold the device to my chest as I slip out into the hallway.
“Hello,” I answer in a hushed tone.
“Is everything okay?” Harris asks, concern evident in his voice.
“It will be. My dad had a mild heart attack. My mom called me when they arrived at the hospital. I didn’t have time to let anyone know I was leaving. I just had to get here.”
“I completely understand. I would have done the same thing,” he says and I’m reminded that neither of his parents are still living. A sadness I didn’t expect to feel floods my chest. “Is he okay? What did the doctors say?”
“He’s good. He’s sleeping now. He has a couple blockages so they’re going to put some stents in tomorrow. They haven’t said how long they are going to keep him, but the way they talked it wouldn’t be more than a couple of days. Assuming the procedure goes smoothly and his test results come back good.”
“Well that’s good news. Are you at the hospital right now?”
“Yeah, I made my mom go home to get some rest. I’m going to stay the night here and keep an eye on things.”
“Is there anything you need? Anything I can do? Do you need me to let work know?”
“I already called and left a message at work, but if you could let Hannah know in the morning I would really appreciate it. I don’t want to bother her this late.”
“Consider it done.”
“Thanks, Harris.”
“Is there anything else I can do for you?” His eagerness to offer help is really appreciated, but considering less than two weeks ago we were practically strangers it feels weird to be including him in such a personal thing.
“No, I think I’m good.”
“Well, if you think of anything, anything at all, you’ll call?”
