HURT FOR ME

Chapter Thirty-Four - Hospital

"A hospital is no place to be sick."

- Samuel Goldwyn

Aaron Adair

As I sat beside Olivia, the rhythmic beeping of monitors, soft murmurs of conversations and occasional footsteps passing the door occupied my ears.

Despite the relentless struggle of my weary eyes to close, I refused to succumb to sleep. I yearned to stay awake until Olivia awakened, ensuring her safety and well-being. Witnessing her lying in the hospital bed rekindled painful memories that I desperately sought to suppress.

Layla arrived at the hospital and kindly offered to keep watch over Olivia, suggesting that I take a nap. Despite her thoughtfulness, I declined her offer. While I trusted Layla completely, I couldn't bear the thought of Olivia waking up and me not being by her side. In this crucial moment, we relied on each other's presence and support more than ever, and I couldn't afford to be away from her.

"Hey, Lay," I whispered gently. "Do you mind giving me a moment?" I lifted my gaze to meet her eyes, and there I found a compassionate expression etched on her face.

"Of course," She smiled. "I'll be right outside."

As soon as Layla closed the door behind her, my gaze fell upon Olivia's motionless form. Anger surged within me, threatening to unleash itself in a destructive frenzy. Yet, I restrained myself, channeling my fury into a fervent desire for Olivia's swift recovery. The only thing that kept my anger in check was the flicker of hope that burned within me, praying for her healing.

The doctors provided an explanation for Olivia's condition, revealing that one of the tumors on her kidneys had ruptured, leading to the excruciating pain she experienced. To ensure her safety, they decided to keep her under sedation until they could address the ruptured tumor and alleviate her suffering. I consented to their recommendation, understanding that it was the best course of action. It has been nearly four weeks since I brought Olivia to the hospital, and during this time, she has relied on a feeding tube for nutrition and has remained predominantly unconscious.

With my forehead pressed against the back of her hand, I found myself engaging in an act I had never placed much faith in before. I began to pray fervently for Olivia's recovery, beseeching any higher power or force that might be listening to intercede on her behalf. Desperation filled my words as I pleaded for help, desperately hoping that some form of divine intervention would aid her in her time of need.

Despite the challenging circumstances, the unwavering love I held for my wife and our unborn child provided me with the strength to keep pushing forward. Olivia's growing belly, although not yet prominent, served as a reminder of the life growing within her. Each morning, as I awoke, I would place a tender kiss on her stomach, symbolizing the affection and connection that both Olivia and I shared with our baby. It was a gesture I performed on behalf of both of us, knowing that it was a gesture Olivia herself would have wanted, even in her current state.

As I sat by Olivia's side, my mind wandered into a realm of hopeful possibilities. I envisioned a future where she would recover and our lives would regain a sense of normalcy. In my daydreams, I saw us joyfully preparing a nursery for our baby, carefully selecting adorable baby clothes, and embarking on the adventure of finding the perfect family car. These thoughts brought a smile to my face, offering a glimmer of optimism in the midst of uncertainty.

As the weight of the situation bore down on me, the floodgates of my emotions burst open. Tears streamed down my face, each drop carrying a mix of fear, worry, and the overwhelming love I held for Olivia. The strength I had been trying to maintain crumbled in that moment, and I allowed myself to release the pent-up emotions that had been building within me.

As the words poured out through my tears, I clung desperately to the hope that my pleas would reach her. I whispered her name over and over, my voice filled with desperation and longing. The room seemed to grow still, the beeping of the machines fading into the background as my entire focus centered on Olivia. In that moment, all I wanted was for her to wake up, to hear her voice, and to feel her presence beside me once more.

Tears continued to stream down my face as I held onto her hand, my heart aching with each passing moment. The love I felt for her was overwhelming, consuming my every thought and emotion. I prayed that she could sense my presence, my love, and my unwavering support. The room felt heavy with the weight of uncertainty, but in that moment, I held onto a glimmer of hope, refusing to let it fade.

❁

Layla placed the tray on the side table and handed me the coffee. Her caring eyes met mine, understanding the struggle I was going through. "You need to take care of yourself too," she said softly. "Olivia needs you to be strong." I nodded, appreciating her concern. Reluctantly, I picked up a piece of toast and took a bite, forcing myself to eat despite the lack of appetite. It was a small step, but an important one in ensuring I could be there for Olivia in every way possible.

"Dr. Kavanaugh found me in the cafeteria," She said. Her statement piqued my interest so I took my eyes away from Olivia and placed them onto her, waiting for further explanation. "He said soon they'd be able to take her sedation away," She cleared her throat. "But if she doesn't wake up on her own after that..." I raised my hand in the air, denying whatever was coming next.

My heart sank at Layla's words. I couldn't bear the thought of Olivia not waking up after the sedation was lifted. Fear and desperation welled up inside me as I interrupted her. "No, Layla," I pleaded. "She has to wake up. She will wake up. We can't give up on her." I could feel tears threatening to spill from my eyes, but I fought to keep them at bay. I had to remain strong for Olivia, for our baby.

"Of course," Layla reassured me.

A sudden knock on the door gained both Layla and I's attention, "Come in." Layla answered.

Carrying a clipboard, Dr. Kavanaugh entered the room with a cheerful greeting, "Hello, everyone." His beaming smile perplexed me as I wondered how he managed to maintain such positivity in this environment, particularly when I felt like I was draining all the positive energy from the room.

"When is my wife being taken off of the anesthesia?" I asked.

"The results are being assessed, and if they are favorable, there's a possibility we could proceed today," he explained, placing the previous scans on the illuminated LED screen, revealing the tumors that had previously plagued Olivia's kidneys. "If not today, we are optimistic that it will happen within the next week."

I glanced between him and the screen, "What about our baby?"

Dr. Kavanaugh provided reassurance, stating, "The baby should be perfectly fine. I have no doubts that anything we've done to help Olivia will affect her pregnancy at all." While his words offered some relief, I remained cautious and hesitant to place all my hope solely on that assurance.