Mother of the Bride (31 page)

The fresh air did her good, and she could feel her tension headache beginning to ease as she kept in step with her daughter. Turning up Booterstown Avenue they walked to the small local church, slipping into a pew to pray for Paddy. Helen was delighted when morning Mass began, and offered all her prayers for her husband, silently urging him to come through the operation.

Paddy was strong and healthy, and maybe he would sail through his surgery. In thirty-three years of marriage he had never been seriously ill, never had anything worse than bad flu or a toothache or stomach bug. One time he had fallen and broken his arm during icy weather when the children were small, and it had been a nightmare trying to cope while his arm was in a cast. She was the one who usually had the health problems. She'd had a hysterectomy seven years ago, and been so weak she could barely walk up and down the stairs of her home for weeks on end. More recently, she'd been having problems with her knees and had been told she was developing early signs of arthritis, a disease that ran in her family.

Paddy was strong as a horse, she reminded herself. He would get through this. He would.

‘Mum, you've had no proper breakfast,' Ciara reminded her when Mass finished. ‘Why don't we go down to a coffee shop in the village? Then maybe we can go for a drive, or, if you want to, just sit in the sun in the park near the hospital.'

‘That sounds good. I want to be near by and be back in the hospital before your dad's operation finishes,' Helen insisted. ‘I just want him to know that I'm there.'

Five hours later they seemed to have spent days waiting for news, walking the hospital corridors. They sat in the large hospital day room drinking tea and coffee from the vending machine in the corner.

The time ticked by so slowly that Helen felt like they were in some private limbo. Amy and Ronan and Fran kept texting her and she could only say no news . . . no news. She and Ciara took turns asking the nursing staff on the ward if there was any word on Paddy and his condition.

Helen felt the tight grip of fear ease a little when Staff Nurse O'Donnell eventually told her that Paddy was out of theatre and in the recovery area. At least he had come through the surgery and would soon be moved up to intensive care.

Ciara squeezed Helen's hand, her tense face twisting into a smile. ‘Dad's going to be OK!'

An hour later they were dressed in gowns and masks and led into the intensive care unit, which was hushed and quiet, with patients asleep on narrow beds. These seemed almost suspended, and were surrounded by machines and attached to all kinds of monitors.

Oh my God! Helen thought, getting such a shock when the nurse who had been assigned to look after him, Nurse Breda Carey, brought them over to Paddy. He was covered in wires and tubes and looked as cold and white as a corpse.

‘The operation went well,' assured Nurse Carey. ‘Mr Mulligan will be in later, when he is finished in theatre, to check on Paddy. He'll be around again in the morning if you want to talk to him.'

Paddy looked so pale and old, his hair pushed back off his face, wrinkles across his forehead, and deep lines etched on either side of his jaw. Helen kissed him gently, almost relieved to hear his slight snore. She could see the dressing on the long wound on his chest: blood was oozing from it.

‘You should go home and rest for a while,' suggested Nurse Carey. ‘We will be closely monitoring him. The first twenty-four hours after surgery is critical.'

Helen stared at her husband, praying that he had the strength and energy to come through this.

‘Is he in pain?'

‘No, we have him sedated so he cannot feel pain,' assured Nurse Carey. ‘Any change in his condition will be monitored, but we would hope that in twenty-four hours Paddy will be well enough to move from here back to the cardiac floor.'

Ciara was holding her dad's hand, stroking it gently.

‘Can we stay here with him?' she asked.

‘Only for a few minutes.' Nurse Carey smiled at her. ‘We need to be able to move around him and make sure that he is comfortable, so unfortunately we cannot encourage family to stay sitting here
around the bed, but you are welcome to use the family room across the corridor and we will automatically call you if there is any change in Paddy's condition.'

‘Thank you,' said Helen, filled with gratitude for this young nurse who was helping to keep her husband alive. She was reluctant to leave Paddy, but knew that they were in the way of the high-tech medical team working in the unit.

‘Come on, Mum,' urged Ciara. ‘We can come back in and check on Dad later.'

Ciara was right. Paddy was in a deep sleep after the surgery. He needed the rest.

‘I'll see you in a little while, Paddy love,' Helen whispered before leaving the intensive care unit with Ciara.

Amy and Ronan arrived about an hour later, Nurse Carey bringing them in to see their father. For the next few hours they all took turns going in and out to check on Paddy.

Amy fetched sandwiches from the hospital café. Helen was so glad that she had her family around her now when she needed them most.

‘Mum, it's nearly midnight,' Amy announced. ‘You've been here all day, maybe you should go home and sleep for a few hours. You must be exhausted!'

‘How would I sleep with your dad like this?' Helen said, adamant about staying near Paddy. ‘No, I'll grab a blanket and pillow and rest up on the couch there.'

‘Listen, I'll stay here with Mum and you two go home,' offered Ronan. ‘I'll phone you if there is any change. There's no point in us all being sleep-deprived.'

While Helen settled herself in a blanket on the couch, Nurse Carey showed Ronan where to find pillows for them both. Silently Helen thanked God for getting her husband to this point, and begged Him to let Paddy recover.

Helen and Ronan were called during the night as Paddy's temperature had shot up. There was a fan positioned on his bed and Helen could see that he was shivering slightly.

‘Unfortunately, he has developed a slight infection,' Nurse Carey explained. ‘But we are giving him extra antibiotics and doing our best to get his temperature back to normal. Mr Mulligan's registrar saw him and will be back again in about half an hour to check on him.'

Poor Paddy, thought Helen, touching his clammy skin, hoping that the risks the surgeon had warned them about wouldn't overwhelm her husband.

Two hours later things appeared to have settled, Paddy's temperature was only slightly raised, and she had fallen asleep again, leaning on her son's shoulder.

Both of them were unable to hide their relief when, at 8 a.m., gowned and masked up again they had gone back into the unit to find Paddy's colour was better and the awful blue tinge around his lips had disappeared. Helen grasped Paddy's hand, wishing that he could respond.

‘Paddy, the operation's over!' she whispered, hoping that he could
hear her, trying to control her emotions now that her husband had come through and survived.

‘Dad,' said Ronan, standing beside her. She looked at her handsome son. He and Paddy were so alike. Not just physically, but also in terms of temperament and personality. Ronan was just as kindhearted and soft as his father!

Mr Mulligan arrived up at the unit to check on Paddy at 9 a.m.

‘He's doing well,' he told them. ‘The high temperature is a bit of a setback, but hopefully we have the infection under control. I think we should hold on to him where he is for another few hours and review him again tonight. Hopefully by this time tomorrow he can move to the cardiac floor.'

‘Thank you so much, Mr Mulligan,' said Helen, eternally grateful to the surgeon.

‘Helen, we are not out of the woods yet,' Mr Mulligan warned, ‘but looking at him, Paddy is making progress.'

The next twenty four-hours passed in a blur of worry and exhaustion. Ciara arrived, and insisted Helen go home for a few hours while she and Amy took over watching Paddy.

Helen remembered to feed and walk Barney. Then Fran called over, and she bawled her eyes out for about twenty minutes as Fran listened to her fears. After that, she fell into bed exhausted, sure that she was having a bad dream. She woke up four hours later, horrified to find everything was real. But at least after she had showered and changed she felt more refreshed.

‘I know he still looks very pale,' explained Nurse Carey when Helen returned to the hospital, ‘but his temperature has settled and his colour and general condition and respiration have really improved over the past few hours. Mr Mulligan called in to check on him briefly before he went to his outpatients' clinic, and was very pleased.'

‘Well, that's good to hear.' Helen smiled, silently thanking God
and the universe for getting her husband to this stage, past the first critical twenty-four-hour period!

‘Mr Mulligan said he'll talk to you tomorrow,' Nurse Carey said reassuringly as she checked Paddy's oxygen.

Early the next morning Paddy was transferred out of intensive care and back to the cardiac unit. Lucy O'Driscoll, a fresh staff nurse, welcomed him back and settled him into a private room near the nurses' station. Helen was so relieved that she almost wanted to shout with joy when Paddy finally opened his eyes and squeezed her hand.

‘Your dad is going to be fine,' she told her children. ‘He's going to be fine.'

She sat contently for hours watching as Paddy drifted in and out of sleep. She talked to him and chatted casually about everything, and at times he tried to talk back to her. He sipped on a long stick with lemon on it to damp his lips and mouth. Just before his medication he sometimes moaned in pain, but the nurses seemed so attuned to his needs that Helen knew that he was comfortable and in good hands. The dressing on his chest was saturated with blood, but Staff Nurse O'Driscoll assured her that was normal, as the dressings were only changed four days after the surgery.

‘Then Paddy will be up and ready to have his shower,' she promised.

Ronan called in again for an hour before heading home. Amy and Ciara returned after going for something quick to eat in Eddie Rocket's. Looking at their two daughters, heads bent close together, chatting softly at Paddy's bedside, Helen gave silent thanks for their support and love.

Eventually, reassured by the night staff that Paddy was comfortable and fast asleep and that they would contact her if anything happened to him, Helen agreed to go home.

Amy was staying the night again. Thank heaven the problem of
dealing with Sheila wasn't an issue, as she had gone off down to stay with Helen's brother Brendan and his wife Claire in Wexford for a few days' holiday. Helen was so relieved that on top of everything else she didn't have that responsibility.

The minute they got home, she and Amy collapsed on the leather couch in the kitchen.

‘Do you want a drink, Mum?' asked Amy.

Helen would have loved a glass of something, but worried that she might be called back to the hospital again in the night and would need to be sober, so she opted for a big pot of tea instead.

‘It's been such a long day!' She sighed as she took a sip of the reviving drink. Every bone in her body ached with tiredness, but she knew in her heart that the worst was over. She could see it in Paddy's eyes. It was early days, but he was a fighter. Paddy O'Connor was going to recover, get back on his feet and get on with his life!

Amy had rushed through everything in the office, piling a load of work on to Gary Cole, the trainee, hoping to God that he was up to the responsibility and wouldn't let her down. All the art work for the new hotel that was opening on Ely Place was in, and looked fantastic, but she wanted it copied and packed in presentation folders for the directors and marketing people.

‘Gary, everything must look perfect,' she warned, ‘or Norah will have your guts for garters. She hates sloppy presentations.'

Gary at least had the good grace to look scared.

There was a meeting till 7.30 p.m. with the Ely Hotel management group, followed by a launch party for the brand-new crunchy corn snack called Chippo in the Laughter Lounge. She had worked on the campaign for the past three months and there was already a good, fun buzz about it.

‘Norah, if it's OK I'll run and check in on my dad after the hotel presentation, and try and get back to say hello to a few of the Chippo reps and sales people afterwards,' Amy said. ‘Apparently they are expecting a great turnout now that two of the members of that new boy band Dogz are attending. Rumour has it that they are bringing their model girlfriends.'

‘Well, Chippo's team will be thrilled with that publicity, but, listen, go see your dad and don't worry!' insisted Norah, who to Amy's surprise had been very supportive since Paddy had got sick. ‘You've put a huge amount of work into the campaign and everyone knows that. We'll have enough hands on deck tonight with Jilly and Gary and young Niamh there. The office will always be here, but your dad and your family need you now, so just go once we finish the meeting.'

Amy didn't need to be told twice, and once it was clear that the clients loved the glossy package she'd designed to promote their new classy city-centre hotel, she grabbed her things and set off for the hospital.

Amy yawned, suddenly tired. She had barely slept over the past few days, and had spent as much time at the hospital with her dad as she could.

Her mum was fit to collapse with all the worry and stress, and it was so incredible to see the closeness and love between them. The utter patience and care and understanding that her mum showed, as she sat at the side of the bed, talking and humming and keeping her dad company, even if he was almost unconscious asleep. Helen O'Connor refused to go home and sleep or let down her guard lest something happened to him. She was like a sentinel on constant duty watching over him. Paddy had come through major surgery, but the heart surgeon Mr Mulligan had made it quite clear that although he was making good progress he still wasn't out of the woods yet.