Until Then

Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

Kenneth

I wish I could think of another explanation. I wish there was another reason why she can see me and hear me when others can't, but I know in my heart it's really the only way. It seems like the closer she comes to death, the easier it is for her to see me. That has to be the reason that she couldn't see me in the waiting room days ago, but can now as if I'm as physically present as any of the living people around her.

"I'm sorry," I tell her. And I am. She's so young and beautiful it breaks my heart to think that she won't get to live out the rest of her life caring for children like she was clearly born to do. "I can't think of another reason. Believe me, I've been trying."

"I know," she answers softly. I expect tears or some sort of denial, but she sits there in the bed with grace as if knowing her death is eminent doesn't bother her in the slightest.

"You're not afraid?" I ask. I never feared death, but many of the people I talked to over the years had. It's the unknown space that can't be studied. Even the world's best scientist can't prove any theories of what happens to our souls when our bodies stop living. Sure, they can tell you how your heart stops along with your breathing, or how long it takes for a body to turn to dust and bones, but they can't tell us where our souls will go—or that we even have one.

"No." She smiles and rests her head back against her pillow again. "I've sat with a lot of dying children and of course my grandma when she was passing too. No one is afraid at the very end. Lots of fear in the weeks right after the terminal diagnosis, but in the days before their body shuts down, no one is afraid. In fact, that's when I see the most peace."

I nod my head. She's right in my experience. There was no pain and no boogie monster on the other side. Just a bright light and then a warm memory to wake up in. "It was peaceful for me, too."

She closes her eyes and I can see her body tense up in pain. "I just wish this didn't hurt so bad," she bites out and the heart monitor she's hooked up to spikes with her increased heart rate. It's torture watching her be in pain when there's nothing I can do to help relieve it. I reach for her hand again as it clutches the railing, and while I can almost feel it beneath my palm, I can't quite get it into my hand. I'd been able to gather her hair earlier, but it also wasn't as tangible as it should've been. It gives me hope that maybe she isn't too close to passing over.

"Me too. Can't they give you something?"

"Yes. Good idea. I'll call the nurse." Her hand is shaking as she reaches for the button. I can see more sweat gathering on her forehead. She's really hurting now. She manages to push it and I hear the crackle of the intercom on her bed come to life.

"This is your nurse, do you need something?" A sweet voice asks.

"I'm in pain. Can you get me something for that?" Her voice is tight and rough, and I don't think the nurse will even question her about it.

"Let me get the doctor. He hasn't written an order for pain medication, but it'll just be a minute."

"Thank you," Quinn says before dropping her hand back to her side.

There's nothing I can say that will take away her pain. I just hold the space for her as she breathes through it. Her face is getting paler and she closes her eyes just seconds before an older doctor slides back the curtain.

"Quinn," he says as he moves to the side of her bed. She opens her eyes and I can see the tears forming in them. I just want him to take away her pain. "I'm having the nurse bring you something for the pain."

"Thank you Dr. Vance."

"You're welcome." He stands there in silence and waits for the nurse to come. Quinn has shut her eyes again and her knuckles are turning white as she grips the railing once more.

A nurse rushes in, her expression solemn as she scans in the medication into the computer. Quinn lifts her wrist without being asked, offering up her hospital ID bracelet so it can be scanned too. Finally, the nurse pushes the medication she brought into the IV port.

"It's strong, Quinn. I wrote an order for Zofran in case it makes you nauseous." The doctor stands watch over her until it's clear that the medication is working. Quinn's hand goes limp and the pink color returns to her knuckles again. Her heart rate slows down and she opens her eyes.

"Thank you," she says again and I finally feel the vice around my chest relinquish its grip so I can breathe.

It feels like it's time for the doctor to leave, but he stays as the nurse cleans up the vomit from earlier and then connects her IV fluids again. Finally, she leaves the small space so she can tend to other patients.

"I'm afraid I have some bad news," the doctor tells Quinn and this time when I reach for her hand, I can feel the warmth of it inside my palm. 

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