Casting About (25 page)

F
orty-five minutes later we were merging onto I-95 following the signs for Brunswick / Jacksonville when my cell phone rang. I answered to hear Dora's voice.

“Monica? Are you and Adam okay? Where're you at?”

“We're scared to death about Clarissa. Just got onto I-95. Any update?” I wished that my mother wasn't in Paris. I knew how confusing medical jargon could be, and it would have been nice to have a registered nurse at hand to fill in the gaps.

“No, I just spoke to Opal. Clarissa is still sleeping.”

“My God, Dora, this all happened so fast. Do you think she'll be okay?”

“I called your mother, Monica, to let her know what's going on. She said meningitis comes on that quickly, that's why it's so important to get treatment right away, but the problem is that we have to wait for culture and blood results to be certain of the correct antibiotic.”

I repeated my question. “Do you think she'll be okay?”

There was a pause before she said, “Monica, I can't truthfully answer that. It's serious. Very serious. It can lead to death within hours, and that's why treatment is started right away without waiting for the results of the tests.”

I gripped the phone tighter. She was right about how serious this was, and it was something I'd never experienced before. “I just thank God Opal was with her and knew exactly what to do.” Would I have known under the same circumstances or just brushed it off as a minor flu?

“I want you to know she has an excellent doctor and she's in an excellent hospital. I have Billie here with me and we've set up a phone tree to keep calls to a minimum. I'm the one who checks in with Opal, and then I call Saren and Grace to give them updates.”

“Thank you. Thank you for everything. Is Billie okay?”

“She's confused, of course, wondering where Clarissa is, and I'm sure she can't figure out why she's here with me, but she's fine. Only ate a little supper this evening, but that's to be expected.”

“Right. Okay, thanks again, Dora. I'll be in touch.”

I disconnected and filled Adam in on what she had to say—but I neglected the part about how serious this was. I figured he'd find out soon enough.

 

After stopping briefly at a rest area on I-95 for the bathroom and vending-machine coffee, we pulled into the parking lot of Shands Hospital at exactly 10:37.

We raced to the emergency room entrance and asked directions for intensive care. Stepping off the elevator, we saw Opal and Hank huddled together side by side on a sofa in the waiting room. Opal jumped up when she saw us walking toward her and pulled Adam and me into her arms.

“Oh, thank God you're here. There's still no change since we spoke an hour ago.” She dabbed at her eyes with a crumpled tissue as Hank came up and put his hand on her shoulder.

“Can we see her?” Adam asked.

“Yes, of course, come on,” she said, leading us to the desk at the nurses' station.

Opal introduced us to the nurse in charge.

“I'm Regina, the charge nurse for this shift. Let me get Clarissa's nurse.”

She returned with an attractive brunette wearing blue scrubs and a black stethoscope dangling from around her neck.

“Hi, I'm Tara. I've been with Clarissa since seven this evening. There hasn't been much change since I came on duty. Her last temp was still a hundred and three, we're running in some IV antibiotics, and she was having a little difficulty breathing earlier so the doctor ordered some oxygen to make her more comfortable. I'm afraid at this point, that's all I can tell you. But I want you to be aware when you go in to see her that she's hooked up to lots of monitors and there's lots of tubes, so don't be alarmed. Dr. Sutter is still in the building and he wanted me to page him when you arrived so he could speak with you. Do you have any questions?”

I stood there mute while Adam shook his head and said, “No, not right now. Thank you very much. You'll let us know when the doctor arrives?”

Tara nodded. “I'll come and get you. Just go through these doors and Clarissa's bed is the first one on the left.”

Adam turned around to Opal. “Mom, you've been here all day and night. I want Hank to take you home now. Monica and I will be staying.”

Opal dabbed at her eyes again. “Are you sure, Adam? I can stay.”

“No, I'm positive. You look exhausted. You'll get her home, Hank?”

“Absolutely. Don't you worry. Come on, Opal.”

My mother-in-law embraced both Adam and me and then allowed Hank to lead her to the elevator.

“Ready?” Adam said.

I reached for his hand and nodded. We pushed the double doors open and walked into a large, semicircular room. In the center was what I assumed was the nurses' station. A U-shaped area, with office chairs on wheels, lots of counter space and many screens that blinked as lines and numbers ran past. Five nurses sat at the counter looking through paperwork. Tara saw us and nodded, then resumed watching the monitor in front of her.

My gaze panned the unit and that's when I saw what looked like about eight individual cubicles, white curtains arranged to prevent anybody from seeing beyond. I felt Adam tug my hand and followed him to the first one. He quietly slid the curtain back, allowing us to enter the cubicle. My legs began to tremble uncontrollably and I gripped his hand tighter. We stood there for a few moments taking in what was before our eyes.

A dim fluorescent light cast an eerie glow on the area. Monitor screens, IV machines that beeped as green numbers glowed, plastic bags of fluids resting on the bedside table, and what looked to be miles of plastic tubing—all of it snaking its way into some part of Clarissa.

I finally forced my eyes to her, and for a second I thought I might faint. She lay in the middle of a bed that looked way too large for her, white sheet and blanket up to her neck, her face as pale as the linens, and covering her nose and mouth, an oxygen mask that hissed and released a steam vapor. Her eyes were closed and in that moment I wasn't even certain she was breathing.

“Oh, dear God,” I whispered, letting go of Adam's hand as he walked to the bedside. My legs were trembling like somebody with hypothermia and I gripped the iron bedrail.

I heard Adam murmuring to Clarissa as I stood there staring at what seemed to be a scene from my worst nightmare, and in that moment an emotion surged through my body that was both familiar and unfamiliar. It consumed my entire being because I knew without a doubt that it had come from the depths of my very soul.

Tears flowed down my face as I walked to the other side of Clarissa's bed and allowed the emotion to envelop me. I gently reached under the blanket and held Clarissa's small hand in mine. With my vision blurred, I whispered, “I love you, Clarissa. God, how I
love
you. Please be all right.”

I felt Adam step behind me and put his arm around my shoulder as the tears I couldn't control continued to fall. Staring at Clarissa so fragile, so vulnerable, and so terribly ill made me understand what it meant to deeply love a child and feel like your heart was being ripped out.

Neither Adam nor I spoke. We just stood there looking down on our daughter, clinging to each other until we heard Tara say, “Mr. and Mrs. Brooks? Dr. Sutton is out here to speak to you.”

I swiped at my eyes and reached for a tissue from the box on the table.

A tall, distinguished-looking man who appeared to be in his early fifties held his hand out to us as we approached the nurses' station. The pocket of his white lab coat had
Dr. Sutton
stitched in blue thread.

“I'm Clarissa's doctor,” he told us without a trace of a smile. “Why don't we go sit in a room over here so we can talk? Would either of you like coffee, a soft drink?”

“No, thank you,” Adam and I said in unison and followed him into a small room with a desk and three chairs.

The doctor sat behind the desk and placed paperwork and file folders in front of him.

“I won't lie,” he told us. “We have a serious situation, but we have Clarissa on the antibiotics and as soon as we get all the results back we'll have a better idea if they're the correct ones. If not, we'll know which ones to switch her to. You were fortunate your mother wasted no time in getting her in here. That will probably be in Clarissa's favor. I'm afraid I don't have much more information for you right now. Do you have any questions?”

“Is she unconscious?” Adam asked. “Can she hear us speak to her? Does she know we're here?”

“It's very important that we keep her quiet and calm, so we have her pretty well sedated right now. I can't say for sure, but yes, she probably can hear you and feel your touch. She drifts in and out of sleep, and when she was awake earlier she was having some difficulty breathing, that's why I ordered the oxygen. Are you familiar with bacterial meningitis at all?”

Adam shook his head. “Not really. What could the complications be? What might happen?”

“I don't mean to alarm you, but there're some complications we need to watch for. That's why she has to be in ICU. She could possibly have seizures, go into shock, or she could even lapse into a coma. Now, none of these things might happen, but you do need to be prepared, and of course if she went into a coma we'd have to place her on mechanical ventilation for her breathing.”

I gripped the arms of the chair and glanced at Adam. His face was the whitest I'd ever seen it and I knew he was struggling to hold on to his emotions.

Dr. Sutton gave us a few moments to digest what he'd told us and said, “Any other questions?”

“Yes,” I said in a voice that sounded foreign to my ears. “What exactly
is
bacterial meningitis? And how did Clarissa get it?”

“It's an inflammation of the subarachnoid space, which is located within the layers of tissue covering the brain and spinal cord. People who get this have been exposed to the organism, and it's most common among infants, children, adolescents, and people over fifty-five.”

Adam shook his head as if trying to comprehend all that was happening. “So now, all we can do is wait?”

“I'm afraid so,” Dr. Sutton replied. “I'd suggest you go home for the night and get some rest. We'll be in touch if there's any change.”

“No,” Adam said, without hesitating. “We're staying here all night. We'll be in the waiting room and go in to see Clarissa when we're allowed.”

Relief came over me and I reached for Adam's hand to squeeze it in agreement. There wasn't any way I wanted to leave Clarissa here all alone without us nearby.

Dr. Sutton stood up and nodded. “That's not a problem. That'll be fine. I'm leaving shortly, but Dr. Wilson will be on duty until I return in the morning. If you have any questions or concerns, tell Clarissa's nurse to page him.”

Adam and I both thanked him and returned to the vinyl sofa in the waiting room, where we were about to spend the longest night of my life.

I
felt Adam stir beside me and opened my eyes, feeling momentarily disoriented. My gaze took in the dimly lit waiting room. Dread washed over me as I realized why we were there.

“Are you okay?” I heard Adam say and felt his arm tighten around my shoulder.

I nodded and saw the large round clock on the wall read 6:25.

“Did you sleep at all?” I asked, feeling guilty for the hour or so I must have gotten.

“A bit. There's no change. Clarissa's still sleeping. How about I get us some coffee?”

I sat up and stretched. “That would be great.”

“A doughnut or something to go with it?”

“I couldn't eat a thing. Just coffee.”

I watched Adam walk toward the elevator. In the dim lighting and hushed quiet everything that had happened since the previous afternoon seemed surreal. I wouldn't even allow myself to think about the possibility that we could lose Clarissa, and my mind drifted back to the day she'd arrived at our house. Such a sullen and withdrawn little girl. Not at all the same girl who was now so seriously ill. Clarissa had flourished living with us—she'd become happy, well-adjusted, and secure.

And how about me,
I thought. I'd also had quite a transformation in the past eleven months. Little by little, all of the doubt I'd ever had about motherhood had slipped away, until suddenly one day being a mother to Clarissa had felt like the most natural thing in the world. So much so that I even looked forward to giving birth to my own child.

But this sudden and frightening situation with Clarissa was making me rethink my decision. To lose a child had to be the most painful and traumatic event that a parent could go through. I wasn't sure that I had the strength to endure something like that.

“Monica?”

I looked up to see Grace standing in front of me. Jumping up, I threw my arms around her and broke into sobs. “Oh, God, thank you for coming.”

I felt her squeeze me and then move me away from her as she swept the hair back from my face.

“Any change?” she asked.

I shook my head. “None. She's still sleeping and we're waiting on the final test results. God, I'm so glad you're here.”

She gave me a bag, saying, “Now, where else would your best friend be during a time like this? Here, I brought you some muffins from the coffee shop. Your favorite—blueberry ones.”

I smiled through my tears. “Gracie, what would I do without you? You're the best.”

“Hey, Grace,” we heard Adam say and turned around to see him carrying a cardboard container filled with half a dozen cups of coffee. “I figured you'd be here before long.” He passed a cup to each of us. Spying the logo on the bag, he said, “Ah, blueberry muffins?”

Grace nodded. “I'm so sorry about Clarissa, Adam, but all of Cedar Key is praying for her, so she's in good hands.”

“Thanks,” he said, and took a sip of coffee.

“When do you think you might know something?” she asked.

Adam shrugged. “We're waiting on those final results. Dr. Sutton comes back on duty at seven, so maybe we'll hear something then.”

“I'm going to head into that restroom over there. One of the nurses gave us an admitting bag with toothbrush and stuff. I'll be right back.”

By the time I returned to the waiting room, I had to admit that physically I felt a bit better. When Adam returned from freshening up we went in to see Clarissa again. She was beginning to stir but still was not awake. My heart turned over at the sight of her—so helpless, and I was powerless to do anything to make her better.

Adam and I went back to the waiting room to find that Grace had set up the table with juice, muffins, and bagels.

“I ran down to the cafeteria,” she told us. “Y'all have to eat something. It's eight in the morning and I bet you can't remember the last time you ate.”

She was right. “Thank you,” I said, sitting down to nibble on a muffin. I had no appetite, but felt it was the least I could do for Grace's kindness. I saw that Adam was doing the same.

About ten minutes later, Dr. Sutton entered the waiting room and both Adam and I jumped up.

“Good morning,” the doctor said, sounding a bit more congenial than the night before. “Well, I think I have some good news. I don't want you getting your hopes up quite yet, but we've isolated the bacterium and we started Clarissa on the proper antibiotic.”

There was no way to describe the relief I felt hearing his words. Adam pulled me into his arms and I felt his tears mingling with mine.

Dr. Sutton put up a hand. “Now, look, we're not over the hump yet, but it's a good start.”

A good start was good enough for me. A good start gave me hope and allowed me to feel that maybe, just maybe, Clarissa would be okay.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Adam said. “Now what? Will she be waking up?”

“Well, we still have some waiting ahead of us. It'll take about twenty-four hours to see a dramatic improvement with the new antibiotic. I think by this evening we can begin decreasing her sedative and she'll be more awake. We'll be doing more blood work and monitoring that. My hope is that within forty-eight hours she'll be on the road to recovery. I know you've been here all night and I strongly suggest that you go home, get some rest, and then come back late this evening. By then, Clarissa might be awake for short periods of time.”

Adam nodded. “Thank you again, Doctor. If we go home, you do have our home phone number in case there's any change?”

“Yes, it's in the records, and I would personally call you, but I don't anticipate that happening at this point.”

We watched him go back inside the ICU and turned around to receive a huge hug from Grace.

“It sounds good,” she said. “Now we just have to keep thinking positive and sending out lots of prayers.”

I nodded. “What do you think?” I asked Adam. “Do you think we should leave for a while?”

“I'll stay,” Grace said. “I know I'm not a family member and I can't go in to see Clarissa, but I'll stay out here to keep an eye on things.” She lifted a tote bag. “See, I even brought my knitting, so I'm all set.”

Adam's cell phone rang before he could answer me. I heard him say “Hi, Mom” and knew it was Opal calling for an update.

A few minutes later he disconnected and said, “Yes, I think we should go home and try to get some sleep, or we'll really be useless in the days to come. Grace, if you could stay for a while that would be great. My mom and Hank will be here by one, she said, and they can relieve you. If you'd like to go in to see Clarissa, I can arrange it and tell them you're her aunt.”

I caught a look of alarm crossing my friend's face. “Oh, that's really nice of you, Adam, but if you don't mind, I'd really rather not see Clarissa like that. You know, so sick. But if there's anything going on and she needed somebody, I'd be right here.”

I could understand Grace's hesitation and pulled her into an embrace. “That would be great. We really appreciate it, Gracie, and I love you for being such a good friend.”

“I love you too,” she said.

“Okay, well then, we'll head home and be back this evening. All set?” Adam asked me.

“Call us if you need to,” I told Grace, following Adam to the elevator.

Just as he pushed the button, I exclaimed, “Oh, no! The music box. I can't leave Clarissa here without the music box I bought for her. She
has
to have it.”

I think Adam saw a touch of panic on my face and he patted my arm. “Okay, wait here. I know which bag it's in. I'll run out to the car and bring it back.”

I saw Grace look at me questioningly as Adam got on the elevator and I proceeded to tell her the story behind the music box that I'd found in Augusta for Clarissa.

“What an amazing story. I mean, really—could you call it coincidence? The dog resembles Billie, the box plays “Amazing Grace,” which Sybile wanted played at her memorial service, and it was originally given to this other little girl when she had pneumonia and they almost lost her. It sounds like this music box has magical qualities.”

“That's exactly what I thought when I found it, and I felt compelled to get it for Clarissa.”

We both saw Adam coming toward us from the elevator, gift bag in hand.

“I had wanted her to unwrap it,” I said, gently removing the paper and satin bow. “But I want to leave it at her bedside before we go.”

Holding it up for Grace to inspect, I said, “Isn't it gorgeous?”

She touched it gingerly with her fingertips. “It is,” she said, softly. “It's very special. I can tell—because it has a good
feel
to it.”

Adam and I walked to Clarissa's bedside and I wound the music box. The haunting melody of “Amazing Grace” filled the small cubicle.

I leaned over and kissed Clarissa's forehead. “Get well,” I whispered. “Get well and come home to us, where you belong. I love you so
very
much, Clarissa.”