Chapter
32
By Julie
The
next morning, I awoke early, immediately feeling depressed. It seemed that everything in my life, which
only a few days before had seemed perfect, had gone wrong. The worst thing, of course, was that my best
friend was probably going to die. But
also, I had just gone through two surgeries and almost died myself. I might even need a third operation on my
broken leg. I was weak and in pain, even
though the doctors had given me morphine.
There wasn’t much I could do, so I just lay there, listening to the
rhythmic sounds of Nick’s and my monitors and machines.
I
rolled over slightly, groaning as my ribs and stomach protested, and studied
Nick. He didn’t look any different to
me, no better, yet no worse. Although, I
wasn’t sure if he could possibly look any worse than he did then. His skin was pasty white, except for dark
circles under his eyes and red splotches on his cheeks from his raging
fever. He lay as still as a corpse, his
rising and falling chest being the only movement of his body. And I knew the only reason he was breathing
was because of the respirator he was on.
His breathing still sounded shallow and raspy, even with the respirator,
so I could tell that the pneumonia was still filling his lungs.
My
eyes filled with tears as I watched him.
I remembered all that we had went through together when we were stuck in
that plane. Nick had fought so hard. He couldn’t give up now.
“Nicky,
please keep fighting. Come on, you
managed to live through a plane crash and nearly a week in the plane with
barely any food. You can’t die now, you
just can’t,“ I sobbed out loud. “Come
on, Frack, I need you. How can Frick go
on without Frack, huh?” I tearfully asked, knowing there would be no response,
but hoping that some kind of miracle would happen, and Nick would awaken. But nothing happened, and I began to lose
hope. I gave up trying to talk to Nick
and talked to God instead. I said the
same prayer over and over, that Nick would survive. It was the only thing I wanted. I didn’t care about my own pain, about facing
more surgery, about anything, except Nick.
If I could have given up my own life so he could live, I would do it in
a heartbeat. But I knew there was
nothing I could do for Nick, except pray.
So I did.
***
Later that morning, Jane came in by
herself.
”Hi, Brian,” she said, managing to smile at me.
I forced a smile back to her.
“Hey,
Jane,” I said. Jane smiled tearfully at
me and sat down next to Nick’s bed. She
pulled the curtain dividing our beds closed, so she could have some privacy,
although it was not much. I could hear
everything she said, and it brought me to tears, hearing her talk to her son,
begging him to come back to her. I lay
back and silently cried, praying once again for Nick to be okay, for not only
my sake, but Jane’s and everyone else’s as well.
***
By the end of the day, Dr. Collins had
run some tests on Nick. “Unfortunately,
he still isn’t getting any better,” he concluded. “But at least he is not getting any
worse.” It was that hope that I clung
to. I knew from my own experiences that
miracles could happen, and I prayed that that would happen to Nick. I knew everyone else was praying for the
same thing.
***
