Unfinished Perfection

America

Lynette knew it could not have been more than a few minutes, watching Harry heartbeat fluctuate on the screen, but truly it felt like hours.

And then, as suddenly as it started, he was back in sinus rhythm.

Lynette's legs buckled immediately and she was on the floor.  The cold linoleum was solid and comforting beneath her, and she took some extra moments to ground herself before accepting Gemma's proffered hand to pull herself up.

"Let's go, shall we?" Anne's voice was small and watery.  They all filed into the room in silence.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

There isn't much to say about the weeks that followed. 

Whenever it seemed that Harry would finally be out of the woods he would suddenly be in the thick of it.  The doctors hooked him up to an ECMO machine, and then another when one wasn't enough to support him. In order to minimize further infection through the two open sites on his femoral and jugular veins, everyone was advised to fully gown up before seeing Harry. Lynette felt as if she was going through each day holding her breath. Harry's parents took a leave from work and his relatives arranged times to come and see him.  The air felt heavy around the hospital bed and Lynette could hardly bring herself to meet Anne's worn eyes, guilt over the entire trip weighing on her mind.

But then Harry started to improve.

It started with the little things.  The alarms on the machines sounded a little less often and his infection stopped spreading. Soon his stats were stabilizing and Lynette swore his skin held more color, more life. Over the course of the following week, the doctors slowly weaned him off the ECMO machines, switched him from the oscillator to a classic ventilator, and took him off dialysis. There never was a definitive moment when Harry woke up, but his eyelids would soon flutter open for a few seconds every once in a while. His eyes stayed open for longer and longer each time and he began to blink in response to commands.

"You're up just in time for Easter term," Lynette told him lightly during one of his moments of lucidity.

Harry seemed to want to say something but settled for squeezing her hand weakly.

"I'll be going back in a week or so. But once you're better..."

Harry's eyelids began drooping, signaling the end of the conversation. Moments later he was back asleep. Lynette sighed and rested her head on the bed. She missed his voice.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Harry gradually grew stronger over the next few days and was moved out of the ICU. Anne spent the entire morning before the doctors extubated him lecturing him.

"At least this way, you can't interrupt me while I'm talking to you," she said, fondly tousling his hair.

The extubation was not pleasant by any means. Harry gagged and coughed as the tube came out and sat back exhausted after the whole ordeal. Lynette peered over him anxiously as he began breathing on his own.

"So let's hear that voice," Anne said cheerfully.

Harry's lips moved soundlessly at first, but soon he was getting out a soft whisper. And then, sounding like someone who had just woken up from a year-long nap, Harry cleared his throat, "What's wrong?" He cracked a dimpled grin, "you all look like someone just died."