A relentless noise in the darkness of Jack’s hospital room startles me from my thoughts till I eventually realise the anguished sobbing noises are coming from me, somewhere deep inside of me. Quickly followed by the sobbing turned to a kind of hysterical laughter, I could not control it, I had no idea what the fuck was so funny about this but I just couldn’t stop.
Maybe it was the absurd recollection of the Surgeon advising me that “what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger” earlier, because that quite frankly is the worst lie I’d ever heard.
My poor husband, not only had God seen fit to take the use of his body away from him, now he was attacking the only part of Jack that remained, his mind. A stroke. A fucking stroke. I stopped laughing abruptly my body filling with rage.
I was so angry for him, I wanted to smash the fucking room up and then take on the whole fucking hospital. I don’t think there was enough stuff to break in this world to make me feel less angry with the hand that had been dealt to us already, let alone this even shittier new complication.
Nobody had been able to tell me to what extent Jack’s brain might have been damaged or how much of my husband would remain after surgery to remove a large blood clot. I was no surgeon but as a Doctor, former Doctor anyway, the endless horror sceneries I’d been taught in these situations raced through my mind. I was just glad that Greta had caught on early enough to know what was happening and sought immediate medical attention. I knew that the time factor was important in how much of Jack came back from this and it mattered because his mind and his memories were all he had. This world had been so cruel to us both. My scar hurt and I rubbed at it roughly trying to take the pain away in my chest but it wouldn’t ease up at all, so I picked at the part of it that poked out of the top of my dress instead, picked at it till my fingers felt wet and sticky with the blood I’d drawn on purpose.
I felt no relief though, For the first time in a long while I felt overwhelming guilt at having been with Marshall while Jack was taken ill. I could feel it festering and working it’s fucking way around my body, twisting through my veins. I was the worst kind of human being because with all my heart I wished he was here with me, just a silent presence beside me, holding me upright while I waited. I’d made Jayne go home earlier, grateful as always at her continued love and never ending support, but I’d wanted to be alone then, to wallow in this state of anger and fear for the man I loved and had married. It was too soon to lose him and whilst I’d always known the possibility of us growing old together was never really likely, this was just to god damned soon, it wasn’t fair.
My phone glowed in the dark once more signalling another missed call from the other man I’d fallen for, guilt stopped me from taking his calls and knowing he’d come if I asked. Come and comfort me while I sat crying over my husband. I wasn’t going to though. Jack came first, before me and certainly before Marshall. I fought internally with the idea of calling Jack’s parents in Australia, I tried to think of the last time they’d called us. Called me to check on their only child, selfish fucks. They should know, whether they would do anything about seeing him was then their choice. I tried to work out the time in Australia to call them before stopping giving any fucks if I woke them up.
I called them gave them the facts or what I’d been told up till that point, Jack’s mom sobbed down the phone, asking why she had to go through this, just making me become even angrier and when his Dad said he would have to check the prices of flights before considering coming to see Jack, I got even angrier and hung up on them before I could say something I’d truly regret, or would I truly regret it? I was half tempted to call back and unload all of the desperate anger I felt about this onto them.
Instead I curled up in a chair beside Jack’s empty bed and waited for him to come back, I must have fallen asleep, I know it wasn’t a restful sleep because I ached all over, I’d picked at my already broken scar and there was blood down the front of my dress and on my hands again. It was also dawn by the looks of the light filtering into the room. The door opened and I jumped up out of my sleep glancing past the Surgeon hopefully to see Jack, hoping they were bringing him back to this room but he wasn’t there.
