6. Damon

Nicholas's kindness kept on coming. His promise to go get things from the car and move it didn't surprise me—not with the way he had treated me. But I still didn't understand why. I was a stranger… a stranger who called at a time when I was in my greatest need. He didn't need to do any of this and yet he did.

I wasn't sure how I managed to mess up calling my brother. It wasn't like I hadn't called him a thousand times over the years, but maybe it was for the best. He'd be working now, and Sandy wasn't really the best comfort. He tended to, in his words, "truth bomb" you, which could easily have been him mentioning death and funerals. He didn't try to be a dick, it just came naturally to him. If it came from a place of meanness, it would be one thing. He talked first and thought later. It was his way.

Sandy had been the only person I could think to call. He was the only other person in our lives who would drop everything for us besides our mom and dad. The parents of the other children had their own crises to deal with, anyway. Watching what happened to George—that was something that would scar those kids for life. You couldn't unsee that.

I walked up to the nursing station. "Is there a way I could leave a message so that if people call for George, they could get information?" The parents were going to want to know he was okay, and I didn't have the spoons to make a thousand calls and an email felt too impersonal.

She shook her head. "No, they need to call with a code." She grabbed the back of her neck. "So… in theory, yes, but you'd have to do a bunch of other things before that could happen, and the information they would get would be what you wrote for us to read to them."

I closed my eyes. Of course it couldn't be that easy.

"My guess is you just don't want to have to call everybody right now," she guessed.

"I can't."

"Don't worry, honey, people understand. It's not like you're on vacation and you forgot to tell them to pick up your mail. This is serious, and they don't have any expectations of you, and those that do can bug off. The only expectation you should have on yourself right now is being there for your child."

I thanked her, needing to have heard her words, and started to walk back into the waiting area when the nurse who had brought me to the consult room came back. "He's all closed up and they're bringing him into recovery. Usually, we have you wait a while and get patients starting to stir first, but the doctor said he'd like you to come back there."

Listening to someone describe my son as all closed up sent a chill down my spine.

"Oh, okay. Just one second." I went back to the nurse's station, not wanting to have Nicholas come here, find me gone, and think he needed to wait for me. "So, there's the guy that was in there before with me—Nicholas. He went to do something for me. Can you just?—"

She nodded. "I got you. Go be with your boy."

I followed the other nurse down to the recovery room, which was in the basement. It was eerie and somber. There was nothing about it that shouted that everything was sunshine and roses, that was for sure.

"We're starting him here, but as soon as his vitals are stable, we'll move him up to pediatrics." Her explanation helped… a lot. "This was the area that had room the quickest, is all." Then she lowered her voice to a whisper, "It's mostly old people."

I braced myself, knowing I was going to see something that would haunt me for the rest of my life. The room was lined with bed after bed, with curtains in between so you couldn't see who was beside you. And there were beeps, so many beeps. Everybody was on a monitor or monitors, and they each had their own sound.

"He's the next one."

A few steps later and I was at George's bedside. Except it looked nothing like him. He lay there, perfectly still, wires coming out of everywhere, an oxygen mask fully on, not just the nose kind he'd had on earlier. And his skin, it was off. My poor sweet boy.

"Should I be worried about that?" I pointed to the oxygen mask.

She shook her head. "No, you just got here earlier than we usually let people in. That'll be coming off in a minute and he'll get the kind he had earlier. He looks really good considering."

He didn't look really good to me, but I took her word for it.. Nurses came in and out, writing things down, typing in iPads, turning knobs. There were doctors too, including the surgeon I saw earlier.

"He's doing great, Dad. He is doing great."

I wanted to believe him. I did believe him, but also… if this was great, I wanted to know what was better than great, because that was what I wanted for George.

"Is it okay if I hold his hand?"

"Absolutely. Just come around to this side because the other one has the oxygen monitors on it."

I did as he directed and pulled up the little rolling chair they had there and held my son's hand. It was cool and lifeless. I'd never wish this experience on anyone… ever.

The doctors and nurses discussed things I didn't quite understand as they switched out machines and wires. And I didn't need to understand it all. They were the experts, and it was my job to be Dad.

"We're going to take him upstairs in five minutes. Just waiting on the transport team. It'll be much nicer up there," he assured me.

He left, and for the first time since I arrived at the hospital, I was alone with my son.

"Hey, George." I scootched in closer. "You've been very brave. That had to be so scary for you. But don't worry, the doctors fixed you all up. Did I tell you about when I was little and my cousin had his tonsils out? I was so jealous because he got a brand-new stuffie shaped like an alligator. I know how you really like stuffed toys, and don't worry, I'm going to make sure you get a new one, too. Maybe two because this was a longer surgery than tonsils. Seems only fair."

Looking back, it was silly for me to be jealous over a stuffed toy, but I had been three, so I didn't understand surgery and all of this.

"It's going to rain tonight, so you don't have to worry about watering the garden either. All you need to do is wake up and let me know how you feel. Deal? I love you."

I kept right on talking, and it quickly turned to random things. Eventually, the transport team came in, three different people to move his bed. Two were moving the actual bed, one moving the monitors. They brought us upstairs, and I was happy to see George was placed in a step-down unit. I hadn't thought to discuss any of that with the medical team, assuming he was going to be in the PICU. This was a thousand times better. Not as good as being in a general wing, but good.

"It'll take just a second for us to set up. Why don't you go to the station we just passed and get yourself something to drink? You can't afford to get sick, Dad." The lead of the transport team tipped his head toward the door.

I didn't want to leave George, but he was right. I was all George had. He needed me to be the strong one.

"I'll be right back, honey. Okay? Be good." I let go of George's hand.

From the moment I walked out the door, I missed him. I walked as fast as I could without getting into trouble and grabbed one of the Styrofoam cups, filling it with the tiny ice nuggets, and then apple juice. Being the pediatric ward, it was apple juice or water. No coffee here. Or maybe hospitals didn't have coffee, I didn't know. But the trip distracted me slightly, and I needed that right now—a distraction.

Back at the room, I sat down. The lead of the team waited until I arrived and then left. I didn't stay alone with George for long. Nurses and techs came in and out, introducing themselves and putting their contact information on the dry-erase board on the wall. He was going to be well taken care of here. That was for sure.

"How about I tell you that story you like? The one about the prince and the dragon?"

"The dragon?" He was here.

I looked toward the door and standing there was Nicholas, holding the things he got for me. He didn't need to come all the way up. He could have left them with the nurses. But he did.

"I hope I'm not interrupting." He had yet to step fully in.

"No, not at all. You didn't need to come." But I was so glad he did.

"But I did."

"Thanks for doing all this for me." All of it. He couldn't have any idea how much it meant to me.

"I don't mind at all. How's he doing?"

"You can come in and see for yourself. This is George."

Nicholas looked at George intently.

"They say he's doing well… better than can be expected. Can I ask you a favor?" I wasn't sure what had gotten over me, but now that Nicholas was here, I wasn't ready for him to leave.

"Anything."

"This is going to sound weird and it's a huge imposition, but maybe you could sit with me here until he wakes up?" Please say yes. Please say yes.