The January Wish (23 page)

‘Pulse is weak and thready, but fast,’ he said calmly.

Just then Grace’s lips moved, and she opened her eyes and tried to get up. After feeling like her heart was frozen in time, Sylvia’s heart resumed beating as relief flooded her chest. ‘It’s okay Grace, I’m here. Stay put for a moment and tell me what happened.’ She noticed a slight tremor in Grace’s hands as she nestled Grace’s head in her lap.

‘I’m sorry, I…felt so weak, and…’ Grace mumbled. ‘Your birthday…sorry, it’s just…’

‘It’s okay, take a deep breath Grace. Just tell me how you feel.’ Sylvia tucked Grace’s hair behind her ears, and caressed her cheek. Mark was holding Grace’s hand, and was now checking the pulse on her wrist.

‘I was feeling really weak, and…and…then my heart kept going funny, like it was missing beats,’ Grace explained breathlessly, while tears glossed her eyes. ‘I felt like, like I was going to die.’ Grace inhaled short sharp breaths, and sobbed.

Sylvia kissed her on the forehead. ‘It’s going to be okay.’ Then she looked at Mark who said what she was thinking.

‘Let’s get her to hospital, I’ll drive. It’ll be quicker than waiting for an ambulance.’

Sylvia nodded.

‘No, no hospital. I’m…okay,’ Grace protested, clambering to get up, before clasping her chest and looking like she was struggling to get air into her lungs.

‘No you’re not,’ Mark said, tossing his car keys into Sylvia’s hands and sliding his arms underneath Grace to lift her up. ‘Let’s get you some help hey, so you’ll feel better.’

Sylvia mouthed ‘sorry’ to Joyce and the others who were standing next to several shocked onlookers from the restaurant.

‘It’s okay, go,’ Joyce mouthed back, tossing Sylvia’s handbag towards her.

Mark walked quickly over to his car parked on the side of the street, and Sylvia clicked the unlock button on the key ring and opened the back door. ‘Sylvia, in the boot there’s a BP monitor in the first aid kit, can you grab it?’ Mark said as he helped Grace into the car.

Sylvia lifted the huge bag from the boot. Man, this guy was prepared for anything. It contained even more emergency supplies than
her
kit. She closed the boot, and tossed the keys over the top of the car to Mark as he opened the driver’s side door. Sylvia slid into the back of the car next to Grace, and rested Grace’s head on her lap as she unzipped the blood pressure monitor.

Grace startled every few seconds, mumbling, ‘My heart, my heart…keeps palpitating,’ while Sylvia inflated the cuff.

‘What’s her BP?’ Mark asked, as he drove.

‘Ninety over sixty, pulse one-twenty-five.’

‘What’s happening?’ Grace looked upwards at Sylvia.

For a moment Grace appeared to be like a small child, and an ache stabbed at Sylvia’s heart, as though sympathetically feeling her daughter’s distress. ‘It’s okay, it isn’t too bad. I’ll check it again in a few minutes, and the doctors at the hospital will find out what’s going on. You just focus on breathing deeply and staying calm, okay?’ Sylvia caressed Grace’s cheek. Hopefully the emergency department wasn’t too busy tonight. But Grace would get seen to right away, as any heart complaints were considered a high priority. Unless, of course, an ambulance wheeled in an unconscious patient bleeding to death from stab wounds. Grace would need to have blood taken and an ECG. Sylvia found her mind going through the tests she’d order if she was the doctor on duty.

As hoped, Grace was taken right through, but after the nurse got the details on what happened, she asked if Sylvia and Mark could wait outside the curtain while they got her hooked up to electrodes and performed tests. After a while, Sylvia could hear the doctor asking Grace some questions, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. Should she go in? No, surely Grace would ask the nurse to get her if she wanted Sylvia there. Mark kept looking like he was about to say something, but didn’t. He simply held onto the small of Sylvia’s back in a gesture of support. He still didn’t know Grace was her daughter. Or did he? Anyway, it didn’t matter. Sylvia just wanted to know what was wrong with Grace and that she’d be okay. Grace had mentioned her mother’s death; maybe there was a genetic heart complaint? But then she remembered that
she
was Grace’s biological mother, and Grace’s father was fit as a fiddle, so that possibility was impossible.

The doctor came out and said the ECG was normal, and that it was likely she was experiencing ectopic beats. He went on to explain what that meant until Sylvia interrupted and told him she was a doctor too. His choice of words immediately changed from layman’s terms to medical terminology, then with his work completed for now, he walked away and disappeared inside another curtain.

Every now and again the nurse would emerge from the curtain, walk away for a while, and come back again. ‘She’s stable, just resting now. I’ll let you know when we know what’s going on,’ the nurse said.

Sylvia wanted to go in, but she didn’t want to disturb Grace if she was resting. Mark had suggested he grab them a coffee, but Sylvia couldn’t drink or eat anything right now. Not until the blood results came back. So they simply sat in the small corner where a few chairs were placed, and waited in silence. Three other people soon joined them, looking similarly anxious.

After more waiting, the doctor from before slipped back inside Grace’s curtain, along with the nurse. Sylvia perched on the edge of the chair. He emerged soon after and went straight over to another patient who was thrashing about in distress on the bed. Moments later, the nurse came out and Sylvia walked over to meet her.

‘You’re Grace’s mother, right?’ the nurse asked.

Sylvia glanced for a moment at Mark who was standing back a little, but still close enough to hear. ‘Yes, I am,’ she replied.

‘Grace will be okay, but we’ll keep her in overnight for monitoring, and I’ve put her on a drip. She’s anaemic, so she’ll need iron replacement for a while, and her calcium and potassium levels are a little low. With all of that combined it may have affected her blood flow, and the way her heart was beating. Panic could have contributed somewhat too, probably worried that the cancer had come back, poor girl. But don’t worry, there’s no sign of that in the blood. Her white cells and platelets are normal.’

A jolt of shock rooted Sylvia’s feet to the floor. ‘Cancer?’

‘The leukaemia. But as I said, no evidence that it’s returned, which is good news,’ the nurse explained.

‘She had
leukaemia
?’ Sylvia asked, her forehead aching from the furrowing of her brows.

The nurse looked confused. ‘Surely you knew?’

Sylvia shook her head. ‘I
am
her mother, but we only met three months ago. I gave her up for adoption after she was born.’ As the words stung her throat with guilt, she barely registered Mark’s touch as his hand returned to the small of her back.

The nurse brought a hand to her mouth. ‘Oh no, I’m so sorry. I just assumed…oh, I’d better contact her adoptive parents, do you have their details?’

Sylvia didn’t answer. She went straight towards Grace’s bed and pulled the curtain aside.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Sylvia rushed to Grace’s side and sat on the bed, grasping her daughter’s hand gently, careful not to disrupt the sticky piece of tape securing the IV line.

‘The nurse told you? About the cancer?’

Sylvia nodded.

‘I didn’t want you to find out.’ Grace tilted her head away from Sylvia, the tears from earlier resurfacing. Sylvia wiped them away with her thumb. ‘I didn’t want you to think…’

‘Think what?’

‘That I only wanted to find you in case…in case I needed a bone marrow transplant.’ Grace’s voice shook.

‘Oh, Grace, I wouldn’t have thought that! And even if you
were
looking for me for that purpose, I wouldn’t have hesitated to be tested.
Or
go through the procedure if I was found to be a match.’ Sylvia tucked some wayward curls behind Grace’s ear.

‘I wouldn’t expect you to though, I mean it’s such a big ask.’

‘Not as big as what you went through.’

‘Anyway, they said it’s just anaemia, and apart from a couple of other things everything else is normal. So it doesn’t look like I’ll be needing bone marrow anytime soon,’ Grace said, attempting a smile.

‘How long have you been in remission?’ Sylvia asked.

‘Two years.’

‘What type of leukaemia was it?’

‘AML. Acute myeloid leukaemia,’ Grace replied.

A thousand thoughts ran through Sylvia’s mind, and she wanted to know all the details. How old Grace was when it appeared, what subtype it was, the treatment protocol used, the prognosis and chance of recurrence, how she coped with the chemotherapy… But she was here as Grace’s mother, not her doctor.

As if hearing her thoughts, Grace added, ‘I was diagnosed when I was thirteen. My teenage years were just beginning when the cancer appeared. It all happened so quickly. I started feeling tired all the time, I’d bruise at the slightest bump, and I could never seem to shake off a minor cold.’

Sylvia nodded as she listened to Grace relay how she was diagnosed and began treatment right away. It broke Sylvia’s heart to imagine her baby girl going through the debilitating treatment, and she had to bite back a sense of guilt at not being there for her. Not that she was to know, but nonetheless, regret seeped through her heart. While she’d been helping save the lives of strangers, her own flesh and blood had been suffering from a deadly disease.

‘The doctors and nurses said I was a fighter, that I never complained and just
got on with it
. But to be honest, it was easier to not talk about it. So I kept distracting myself as much as possible, with reading mostly.’

‘That’s how you became so knowledgeable about books,’ Sylvia said.

‘I guess so. While my friends were reading magazines and hanging out with boys after school, I was in bed dreaming of a fantasy world. It passed the time, and stopped me feeling too overwhelmed.’ Grace’s eyes stared straight ahead but appeared distant, as though looking into the past. ‘But there were many times I didn’t even feel well enough to read. Sometimes all I could do was just lie there and be with the illness. I kept wishing I’d wake up one morning in my own bed and the cancer would be gone, and I’d dress up and go out with my friends, and do all the normal things a teenager would be doing. But when I’d wake, everything would be the same. And funnily enough, even when the tests gave me the ‘all clear’ just before my sixteenth birthday, all I wanted to do then was study and finish school, get my HSC.’

‘Which you did.’

‘Yes. I told my mind that the more I focused on my studies the less room the cancer would have to take up residence in my body again.’

And the less room there’d be for guilt to take up residence,
Sylvia thought as she remembered her gruelling final two years of school, just after having Grace. Study saved her from seeing Grace’s baby face in her mind, feeling the silky touch of her tiny hand. By the time she was at university she had no time to think of the past.

‘My follow-up tests kept coming back normal,’ Grace said. ‘And with each passing month I grew more hopeful. By Year Twelve at school I finally felt like I’d turned a corner and the cancer was lost somewhere in the past. But only a few months before the HSC exams, everything changed again.’ Grace wiped a new tear from the corner of her eye.

‘Your mum.’ Sylvia shook her head gently from side to side at the unfairness of it all, at the incomprehensible trauma of going through cancer, then recovering, only to lose the mother who’s cared for you your whole life.

Grace nodded, wiping away another tear. ‘I thought I’d done something wrong to deserve such pain. Dad and I were inconsolable for a while. But then I remembered Mum’s face as she’d told me how proud she was of me, getting stuck into my studies again and working hard for my future. I knew I couldn’t give up, so I decided I’d get through the HSC successfully no matter what.’ A triumphant smile grew on Grace’s face, and she readjusted her position on the bed, seeming stronger already.

‘She’d be even more proud of you now, I’m sure of it,’ Sylvia said. When she’d handed Grace over after she was born, she never imagined her baby would end up going through all of this. Sylvia spent time with teenagers and young children suffering from cancer during her oncology placements as a trainee doctor, and the thing that struck her most was their sense of being older and wiser than others their age. Their experience etched onto their faces, hiding the innocence and invincibility that once lay beneath. ‘I’m proud of you too, Grace,’ Sylvia whispered as she exhaled slowly, her tense concern from earlier softening into acceptance and admiration.

‘Thanks, that means a lot,’ Grace replied. ‘And from now on, I promise to be more consistent with my medical check-ups. I can’t believe I ended up in here—it was exactly what I was trying to avoid!’

‘Well now that I know your secret, don’t expect me to forget it. If you miss any appointments or tests you’ll have me to answer to, young lady,’ Sylvia said, waving her finger at Grace.

‘Oooh, I’m scared.’ Grace pretended to hide under her blanket, and Sylvia laughed. ‘I’m sorry I ruined your birthday. Of all the days for this to happen.’ Grace sat up.

‘Don’t worry about that, your health is much more important. Besides, you saved me from overindulging in a fat, sugar, and cholesterol-laden dessert. You may have saved
my
life, you know!’ Sylvia said, glad to see a smile on Grace’s face.

‘I don’t know about that, you’ve got to enjoy life while you’ve got it. Eat the dessert, I say!’

‘I won’t tell Mark you said that.’

‘Good,’ Grace replied. ‘I’m glad Mark was there tonight, he was like a knight in shining armour, rescuing me from my moment of distress.’ She giggled.

Mark. He was still out there waiting. Sylvia felt incredibly grateful he’d been there tonight; he seemed more in control than she was, and that was saying something. For a moment she felt she should check on him, wondering if being here was triggering memories he’d rather forget.

‘I feel bad though, I didn’t follow through with the tests he told me to get,’ Grace continued. ‘When he did the live blood analysis he said my red blood cells weren’t of “optimal shape and size” and that I should get a full blood count, and iron studies done, along with some other things, but I can’t remember. Maybe if I’d listened to him this wouldn’t have happened.’