50. Sarah

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Callie continued to simply stare straight ahead. She remained catatonic. I tried signing to her, not sure if she could see me at all wherever she was in her mind. I told her Bren was going to be okay, and that we understood what had happened. I told her we weren't mad, but that we would be definitely getting her help when we got home. Which made me cry, because we were due to fly home in another week and I couldn't be sure the hospital was going to let us take Callie home. And if they did, what state she might be in still.

I tried to keep my composure when I was in Callie's room with her, but occasionally, I needed a break to cry and Kala would take over, signing to Callie in what should be her line of vision, if she can even see anything.  She's shown no signs of awareness of her surroundings. The doctor had had to order a nasogastric tube be inserted because Callie wouldn't even eat. She had no awareness when someone tried to feed her. I'd tried the first day they'd let me up to see her and the food, a spoonful of applesauce, just sat in her mouth until she basically drooled it back out. We'd tried again at dinner with the same result. After two days, the doctors felt an NG tube was the best solution. It was temporary, required no surgical intervention and shouldn't bother Callie at all. Even when she woke up, or whatever.

I'd had to fight and argue with the staff to get Callie even a bit of decency. A blanket and a pillow. We'd sat her up a bit so she wasn't flat on her back, choking on her own saliva all the time. Callie wasn't swallowing, either. She just drooled. I'd gotten a towel and placed it under her chin and would wipe her mouth as needed while I was there.

They still weren't letting me on the unit outside of visitor hours except at the end of the evening hours at four. At first they'd let me stay until Callie's dinner came so I could try to coax her to eat. But since she was currently being tube fed, they'd gone back to strictly enforcing the visiting hours. And it broke my heart each time I had to leave Callie alone in that stark room. Her hands and feet were still tied to the bed and my heart broke with what Callie must be thinking.

"I have to get her out of here," I said to Kala. "She can't heal here. They can't reach her."

"I think if we could bring B up here, she'd start coming back. If she can see, that is."

"They won't let me bring him up yet. They're going to get him up and walking today, but they don't want him coming up here in case Callie reacts badly," I said, not believing the words that were coming out of my mouth.

Callie would never have attacked Brendon on purpose. She had been in an unfamiliar place, had had a nightmare and reacted. We hadn't known she'd found a knife. We had no idea she would wield a weapon, but so many nights in her young life had been interrupted by men doing terrible things to her. We weren't going to fix that simply because we adopted her. It was going to take time. And therapy.

Kala and I sat with Callie until the end of morning visiting hours. I held her hand, kissing her little knuckles and just wishing I could get through to her.

The doctors, through an interpreter, were trying to find out what happened. I had consulted with them every day telling them about Callie's past, why she might have lashed out at Brendon. They were trying to help Callie, too. But not knowing if she was aware made it hard.

"Okay, sweetheart," I signed in her field of vision. "I have to leave. I'm going to go back to Dad. I'll tell him you say hi, okay?"

Nothing. I shook my head, hugged my daughter, kissed her head and gathered up the few things I'd brought upstairs. Callie stared straight ahead still.

Kala and I headed downstairs to Bren's room. He was sitting up and watching TV when Kala and I came back in.

"How's Callie?" He asked the moment I walked in the room.

"The same. They've inserted an NG tube because she isn't swallowing, so she won't eat. She just stares straight ahead."

Brendon shook his head.

"What do we do? How so we get through to her?" He asked.

"For starters, getting her off that horrible psychiatric ward would be helpful," I frowned. "She's alone in her room, no one can communicate with her if they don't have an interpreter. She just... lies there."

Tears welled up in my eyes. Bren frowned.

"I want to go up and see her. I don't care what the doctors or nurses say. At the next visiting hours, I'm coming up with you. Screw them. They're not helping her."

"Bren," Zack said in a warning tone.

"Zack. Forgive me but fuck off. Everyone who seems to think they know what's best for Callie and me, have done absolutely nothing for Callie. You heard Sarah. She's alone. She's my kid and I'm going to go see her."

Zack put up his hands in defeat. Zack knows when not to argue with Brendon.

We sat and chatted for a while until it was time for visiting hours on the psychiatric ward.  Brendon got into a wheelchair (he'd follow that rule at least) and I pushed him to the elevator. Zack and Kala came with.

"Sir? Where do you think you're going?" The nurse asked.

"I'm going to visit my daughter," Brendon said, challenging then to try to stop him.

"Sir, I don't think that's a good idea," the nurse said.

"Why's that?" Brendon challenged her. "What is a catatonic 12-year-old tied to a bed going to do?"

"You only just got up today. Take it easy at least one day," the nurse tried.

"I am going to see my daughter," Brendon said through clenched teeth. "Call security if you want to stop me, but I am going."

The nurse shook her head and shrugged.

The elevator came and the four of us got on and I pressed the button for Callie's floor. The doors closed with no further comments from the nurse.

Better Off Alone (Adopted by Brendon and Sarah Urie)Where stories live. Discover now