The Rise of A Phoenix

Chapter Five-Death And The Aftermath

My worst fears were confirmed as the team finished CPR and I heard the heart monitor ring flat. I broke then, grabbing his left hand and pulling it towards me, kissing his clenched fist.

“Damn it! I knew that this would happen to us! All because he had to behave like he was able bodied and not missing the last six feet of his intestine! Dammit!” I pounded my fist into the bed in rage and wailed in grief. The Pathology department came after the MDs and resuscitation team pronounced him dead and covered his body with a sheet in preparation for taking his body to the morgue. They left after that and I realized that everything that happened in the last few hours was real. I started crying uncontrollably, so the heart monitor went wild as my heart rate and blood pressure rose.

The next thing I heard were Meredith's footsteps in the hallway and the click of the doorknob. Meredith walked into the room holding a syringe and stood at my shoulder.

“Okay, Brittany, honey, I'm gonna have to prick you with this syringe here. It's just something to make you feel better and calm you down so your heart rate doesn't jump too high. One, two, three. And we're done,” she said while she pulled out the syringe, stood, walked over to the sharps box on the wall and dropped the needle in.

The medicine kicked in and then I drifted into the void as Meredith was leaving the room. I woke up hours later with a sore left bicep from the Haldol injection, but opened my eyes and was surprised I even got any sleep at all. I glanced around and reoriented myself to the surroundings, then pushed the call button for the nurse. I slowly recalled the events of the night before. My heart rate started to rise, and I had to take a deep breath to try and clear my head. The nurse opened the door to me crying, and all she could say was,

“Wow, Death Valley takes another one. I'm sorry for your loss, dear. Does he have any family?”

“No, it's just me. There are a few people who need to know that he's gone though. They're all back at Victoria House PCH in Monessen as staff or patients. Those people are his surrogate mother, grandmother and grandfather. I can write a letter to his surrogate grandfather. I was close to him before I left Victoria House. His name is Gary Holt. Wow, I can't…why am I doing this? I haven't even properly processed this. Can I see him or is seeing him not an option because we're not married? I don't know how this works now that he's actually dead.

I need my phone. Half the numbers I need are in it. Thank you.,”

I drew a breath and slowly exhaled while counting in my head before I spoke again. The urge to cry was threatening to overcome my thoughts and I was fighting the urge for all I was worth.

Aries through and through, I was fighting to the point of my own destruction. I dialed the number for Victoria House and hoped someone would answer the phone. I reflexively glanced at the clock on the wall while the line rang. Someone answered the phone and I recognized the voice as Dawn's. She answered the phone in her usual cheery fashion.

“ Dawn, is Ms. Victoria there? I need her. It's about Tommy and y'all are still listed as his emergency contact number at Mon Valley. I heard voices screaming Ms. Victoria's name in the background and smiled at myself. I was thankful that I had taken my anxiety medication that morning because of what happened next. Ms. Victoria answered the phone and I said,

“Ms.V, I need your help here. I have bad news about Tommy and I need to find out if he actually has family. Y'all are listed as his emergency contact number here at Mon Valley. Ms. V, Tommy's dead. He died last night. I couldn't remember if he had family so I called y'all. I'm sorry I called. I just didn't know where else to go with this. Oh hell, I'm all squishy now. Are Martha and Gary still there with y'all? I have to break the news to them both. They are his surrogate family and they need to know he's gone. She heard the phone being put down on the desk, followed by the shout of Gary's name. She then heard the squeak of treadless wheelchair wheels on tile followed by an extremely husky voice saying hello.

“ Prof! I'm so glad to hear your voice. I'd be dancing if my hip wasn't busted to hell and back. The surgeon got me good. Anyway, down to business. Hemingway died last night. I was there with him. Prof, I can't think straight. I don't know what to do here. Even in the grave, Hemingway still finds a way to make me shoulder his s**t. I shouldn't speak ill of the dead, but this is bullshit which I don't have the patience for right now. I need to heal and get my body ready for the hell round of PT in six weeks. But you already know that because it's me. Speaking of you, did Doc fix that hinge joint of yours? When I left, the option was still on the table. Both literally and figuratively. Nah, I barely escaped unscathed from this last one. Pop, snap, clatter, crash is how it went. I dislocated the rod in my hip. Added another eighth of an inch to the scar. I can't feel my ass but I suppose it's just a reminder to never do this again. I miss you. Soon as I get out of Death Valley I'll come up and see y'all. Well, the nurse is here to give me my meds. I'll talk to y'all soon. Love you Prof. Give everyone else my love, would you please?” He filled me in on the happenings at Victoria House as I finished speaking and told me he loved me. My heart melted knowing that because he was one of the few people who truly knew and cared about me. It made me feel less lonely even though I was away from him.

I hung up the phone and looked over at the nurse holding my dose cup. I took it with a nod and tipped back the cup in one swallow. “There, I got it now. This is hell.” I looked over at the nurse who took the dose cup from my hands, saying,

“I know. For what it's worth, you're being so courageous and strong right now. I know that this whole thing is really hard for you.”

“ Surgically, it was a cakewalk. My boyfriend dying on me is the hard part. “, I said this in a husky voice, laden with unshed tears. The nurse nodded in agreement and left the room, leaving me in silence with my thoughts.

Mom, I wish you weren't so far away. This is hell. I need a hug and a shot of whiskey, I thought to myself.

In lieu of that, I blasted Garth Brooks’ Standing Outside the Fire on repeat, screaming the lyrics at the top of my lungs until I hoarse and my throat was raw. The only sound I heard was my own voice and the heartbeat in my chest. I found it strangely comforting to think as if I was outside my body, detached from everything and everyone. The bubble burst when Doc Morrison came in to see how I was doing post surgery, and I could barely find the words to speak.

“ The hip's fine, but my heart is breaking here, Doc. I need my mother and she's too far away.

Surgically, I handled it well one more time, I think. The pain isn't too bad for me, so that's a plus. The pain is only about three or four out of ten on the pain scale. That's taking into account my high tolerance for pain, just so you know. We McFaddens are good for that. My dad fractured thirty three bones in his body,including five vertebrae and only took the painkillers for the first three weeks he was healing.

As for me, I had my left leg entirely realigned and the hip socket reconstructed and I only took them for a week. We bleed quickly, we heal quickly, and we're straight bullheads when it comes to the hospital. We have to be dying or something has to go completely wrong for you to see us here. Just saying, Doc.” Dr. Morrison nodded in agreement, saying,

“You've certainly lived up to the proof in your family tree, Ms. McFadden. I can see it. That fortitude in your blood is probably why you're still here and not in a wheelchair.”

“ I have my father, my mother and my stepmother to thank for that. My sophomore year of high school was the last time I used one permanently and I don't plan on going back to that again. I can't and I won't. It's not in me to fail and that's failure in my mind. I can't stand the way people look at me when they see it. Nothing in their eyes but pity and those singsong patterns in the way they speak. It's sad and embarrassing.”, I said with my voice raised.

With that, he looked at the incision and rebandaged it before leaving the room. As the door closed, I disappeared into a whirlwind of memories.