Your Heart to Keep: Holly and Jax (3 page)

“We need to ask you to remove any jewelry you might be wearing and give it to your parents for safe-keeping,” requested the nurse.

The only jewelry I wore was my braille watch and a gold necklace; a teardrop pendant with my amethyst birthstone embedded into it, given to me when I turned 18. I had never taken it off. It was like a security device for me. I would touch it when I was worried about something. As if a simple chunk of rock could calm me down. I reached for it now and rubbed the pendant furiously, praying that it would act as a lucky charm and offer me an incident-free surgery, even while it was in the hands of my mother.

Silent prayers flooded my mind as I continued to rub the pendant asking God to keep me safe from this point forward.

My watch was first as I removed it and held it out for either parent to take and then I sat up and forward, pulling my hair off my neck so that my necklace could be removed.

“We’ll give them back to you when you wake in ICU.” Mom wept as if she was positively confirming that I was going to survive the surgery and would see the items again. She knew how much the necklace meant to me and as I felt it fall from my neck, I couldn’t help but feel the loss.

A drip was inserted into my hand and anti-rejection medication started while some blood was drawn. There was going to be a catheter placed into my neck and wrist directly before surgery to monitor my heart and blood pressure. Thankfully, I would be unconscious by that stage.

I listened to the noises around me, each one telling its own story. A child crying. A man groaning in pain. Medical staff, liaising between patients and fellow employees. Trolley’s being pushed. They were sounds I’d heard many times over the years with my numerous visits to hospitals and medical centers. Today though, every noise was more exaggerated, becoming a part of me, leaching into my blood as if it could be the last time I heard such earthly, immaterial sounds. They suddenly became important as I clung to them. The sounds of the living.

“Okay Holly. It looks like the operating theater is ready for you. Can you say goodbye to your folks now?”

Show time. The only thing I wished for in that very second was to survive surgery. It wasn’t much and yet it was everything. All else was irrelevant. Continuing to live was all that mattered. To wake and take a breath. Even though my world would still be sightless I wanted to immerse myself in making every moment count. To take nothing for granted and to live as if each day was my last. To experience facets of life that had so far eluded me. Guys for one! I’d never even had a boyfriend! My first kiss! Going on a date! Getting married and having a child! I just needed another chance.

Chewing on my gums which is something I did when I was frightened, I brought my hand up to my face to wipe the tears away, wishing it wasn’t me on the bed about to be sliced open and my heart removed. It didn’t seem possible that I could be kept alive by machines while my chest cavity gaped open with a giant void in it where the one organ I needed the most to survive, was absent.

My mouth was suddenly dry and my stomach awash with nausea. I’d never been good at goodbyes but this one was by far the hardest because I didn’t know if it was going to be forever. How did you let go of the two people who had been your strength and support system your whole life? Who had adapted to your illness as if it were nothing? Two people that filled my life with so much love that sometimes it was overwhelming. They made sure all my needs were met, emotionally and financially. Not just me but Ty as well. Two of the most selfless people that I may never see again. That in itself was far scarier than the hours of surgery awaiting me.

Dad leaned in and over me, wrapping his big strong arms around me. Arms I wanted to stay cocooned in forever. My free hand that wasn’t still stinging from the IV line, wound around his shoulders in a fierce embrace. I could feel his body quaking and knew he was still upset. What father wouldn’t be?

“I love you so much, Holly. More than anything. I’m so proud of you…” He paused as he tried to compose himself and push through what he needed to say. “You’re going to rock it in there…” I breathed in his familiar ‘dad’ smell, burning it into my mind along with the sound of his voice that was drowning in emotion. My fingers danced over the knit sweater he wore, etching the texture and feel of it into my essence. Such an inconsequential thing to do and yet it felt so important to me.

As he sobbed and pulled away to let my mother in, I broke down even more. “I’m frightened…I love you, Mom and Ty more than anything. I don’t want to go.”

My mother was there then, always the stronger one, having managed to pull herself together from her earlier lapse. “It’s going to be fine, Holly. You’re tough and a fighter. You can do this! The doctors and nurses are going to look after you. They’re not going to let anything happen to you.”

I nodded because what more could I say? Her lips found my cheek and lingered there longer than normal, a whimper escaping her.

“I love you, darling. We’ll see you on the other side.”

“I love you too Mom.”

I felt the wheels beneath the bed start to move as my mother and father walked with me, her hand still in mine as they kept chanting their love for me over and over. “We love you, Holly. We’ll be close by. We’re not leaving.”

And then, her hand was ripped away and I was taken further into the bowels of the hospital towards the theater. I’d never felt so alone.

The journey to my fate was short and grim. Silent yet filled with the noise of my relentless mind-chatter. I would rather the anesthesiologist had knocked me out prior to being led like a sheep to the slaughterhouse.

The bed stopped and I was greeted by the surgeon and his crew.

“Hello Holly. Are you comfortable?” Dr. Mason appeared at my side, touching my arm in a gesture meant to help re-assure me. It did very little because I was too wound up.

Was I comfortable? No! I was shaking all over and had to keep swallowing every second. I nodded, mutely, not wanting to speak for fear that talking would bring on a fresh wave of tears that I’m sure would hinder the commencement of surgery. While that thought sounded like a wonderful option, I knew it would only delay the inevitable.

“Your new heart is looking great. It’s out of the donor and has been checked over. All is going to plan.”

“Thank you.” So far so good. It would be terrible to get this far and then be told that there was a problem with the donor heart and I would have to go home again. I’d heard of it happening quite often.

Another doctor spoke from my other side, introducing himself. “Holly, I’m Dr. Hatfield and I’m your anesthesiologist for the operation. We’re going to put you to sleep now. The next thing you’ll be aware of is waking up in ICU.”

Crap. This was it. It all came down to this point in time. Once the liquid started its journey into my veins, it would initiate the chain of events that would determine life or death.

I closed my eyes and waited. A gentle pull on the cannula in my hand let me know that they were connecting the syringe. Countdown.

“Okay Holly. You’re doing great,” said Dr. Hatfield. “Can you count back from number 10 to number one, for me?”

Already I could feel a hint of sleepiness. “Ten, nine, eight…” Light-headedness. “Seven…” My voice sounded like I’d been drinking. So drowsy. “Siiiiiixxx, Fi…” Nothing.

Chapter Three

Jax

No broken bones. I could have told them that. I’d suffered from a few over the years and would know if there was anything fractured. I guess they were being vigilant. I was already starting to bruise from the seatbelt but that was only minor. Not worth worrying about. The only important thing to concern myself with now as I was wheeled back to the same examination room I’d been in before, was finding out about Chloe. This time, I wouldn’t back down if they gave me the run around.

My mom was hovering at the nurse’s station as I was wheeled towards her. She ran to me, tears falling hard and a grief-stricken look on her face that had me squeezing the sheets on my bed. It was an expression I’d never seen her wear. Forehead creased, eyes looking at me with remorse.

“Jax! Oh honey! I got here as soon as I could. I’m so glad you’re alright!” She showered me with kisses, holding my face only inches from hers. “When I got the phone call. I thought the worst! They wouldn’t tell me anything. Only that you had been in an accident and were in University Hospital.”

She followed my bed until I was tucked away in my corner to await further instruction. I gathered they would release me now that it was proven that I was relatively unscathed.

“Chloe. I haven’t seen her. I need to see her. Make sure she’s okay. She wasn’t breathing. Mom…She wasn’t fucking breathing!”

She’d heard me swear but I tried not to do it often around her unless it was warranted. Her face remained unchanged, apart from her lip that began wavering.

“Honey. I’m so sorry!” Her pained words, dug into my already wounded heart.

“Sorry? No. Not sorry! What? What!” I was yelling and found myself in the sitting position, swinging my legs around to dangle over the bed.

Her face didn’t resemble that of my mother. I hadn’t seen it before. The deep grooves in her brow. A pitiful expression. Helplessness.

“Mom?”

“She didn’t make it! I’m sorry, son. Chloe’s dead.” Her sobbing failed to convince me.

“No! No, she’s not. I was just with her. Not long ago. She just stopped breathing, that’s all. She’s fine. The medics took care of her. They told me they would. How can you say that?”

My mother walked in to me and grabbed me, pulling my head into her shoulder. “She was dead when the ambulance arrived. I’m so very sorry. I loved her too. I feel like I’ve lost my daughter.”

I pulled my head away from mom, my hands grabbing her shoulders as I shook her to try and make her see. “No! I’m telling you she’s not dead! You’re wrong!”

“Jax, honey you’re hurting me.”

I let her go and grabbed a handful of my hair in frustration. “Get me a nurse!”

“They’re going to tell you the same thing.” Her voice sounded far, far away.

“I said get me the fucking nurse that was going to find out for me earlier! Now!”

She looked horrified at my outburst. I’d never spoken to her like that. Ever. But this bullshit caused for desperate measures. I needed this sorted out.

After a minute, I was greeted with the same nurse who had promised to get me information before my X-Ray. “Tell my mother that there’s been some mistake. Chloe McQuade was brought in here not long ago. She’s fine right?”

I was off the bed and pacing, never taking my eyes off the nurse. She gave my mother a look. A fucking look!

“She’s fine, right?!

The nurse’s face softened in what looked like ‘I’m about to drop the bottom out of your world,’ expression. “Your mother is correct. Ms. McQuade is deceased. They have taken her into surgery.

“Surgery? So are they bringing her back to life?” I’d somehow opted not to focus on the word, deceased, instead fixating on the word, surgery. If I’d concentrated more on what I was saying instead of what I wanted to hear, I would have realized just how screwed up I sounded.

“No. I’m afraid not. She’s an organ donor. We have a patient waiting in a seperate theater to receive your girlfriend’s heart.”

And that’s when everything came tumbling down. My whole world. Crashing, just like I was as my knees hit the floor.

Something fearful and primal leached out of my insides, thrusting itself into the noisy emergency ward, overpowering all else. Both hands gripped my head as the tormented howl clawed its way out. Two doctors came running, asking what was wrong. My mother tried to comfort me by placing a hand on my shoulder but I barely felt it. My face was twisted in agony as I screamed, pounding a fist into my head.

Everyone left except my mother as the nurse explained to the doctors why I was having a meltdown, the curtain drawn. A lot of good it would do but I guess it was to stop sick patients from being frightened.

Once the screaming stopped, the sobbing began. I was cut to pieces. Wrecked.

My Chloe. My life. She can’t be gone. Dead means forever. I can’t accept it.

“No. No. No. No. No. Fucking No!” From my head, I forced my fist into the hard ground. Over and over, trying to understand what the hell was happening.

“Jax. Stop. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Hurt myself?” I let out a humorless laugh. “Chloe is dead and you’re worried I’m going to hurt myself?” Looking up and into the woman’s eyes that had put my life before her own to make sure I was clothed and fed, I found her on the verge of breaking.

“You’re my only son. I love you. I can’t stand to see you so wounded.”

I hated that she was hurting but I couldn’t stop. “Just don’t, Mom! Okay? Just don’t. I’m fine. Believe me! The X-Rays proved that there is barely a mark on me. I mean, how is that? Tell me! How did I walk away?” She couldn’t answer but it didn’t matter. I was far from finished. “Oh, and they’re going to cut her fucking heart out? My heart! They’re going to give it to a stranger? Why wasn’t her family asked first? Do they even know she’s dead?”

“I’m sure the staff have notified her next of kin. The family didn’t have to be asked about her heart, Son. She’d been on the organ donor registry for the last five years.”

“That’s insane! Why didn’t she tell me?! How come you knew? Everyone knew but me!” Shock was eclipsing my anger. How could she have kept something so important from me? We told each other everything. We didn’t keep secrets.

“I didn’t know. I found out from the hospital staff, earlier. I swear! Honey, the reason she probably didn’t tell you is because she knew how you felt about the whole concept.”

Wasn’t that a fact? I couldn’t fathom cutting someone up and removing parts and then burying them, less than whole. I knew they were dead but, shit! It just seemed so barbaric!

And now my girlfriend’s heart. The one I owned was being given to someone else? It was a total mind fuck! I’d vowed to love that very heart for all of time but never in a million years when I made that pledge did I think it would end up beating in someone else.

Reality hammered at me, chiseling pieces of denial away. If Chloe hadn’t been dead after the accident and there had been some mistake, she sure as hell was now because she didn’t have a heart! They’d taken it from her! I wanted to be sick. Queasiness had me gagging a couple of times. It was all too much to deal with.

“I can’t cope with this.” My voice had quietened. All I was left with was a hollowed out carcass of my former-self. My tank was empty. I lowered my head trying to keep the vomit from surging out onto the floor.

“Why don’t you come stay with me tonight? I don’t think you should be alone.”

Maybe I would. If I went back to my house, I’d spend the night in my own head, beating myself up. I simply nodded.

We sat in silence for a while until a male doctor entered. “It looks like you’re free to go home now. You’ll just need to sign some paperwork at the desk on your way out. The police will be wanting your statement so you may want to contact them later in the day.”

“Where’s Chloe? Is she done in surgery?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to leave yet. Some part of me needed to know the outcome of the heart transplant. I think secretly I wished that they’d ended up leaving her heart alone because it wasn’t compatible but that was wishful thinking. They wouldn’t remove it unless they were sure it was a match for the recipient. I hated the person already who had my Chloe’s heart. It was an asshole way to feel but I couldn’t help it. That heart held all of my girlfriend’s emotions and the love I had given her. I was a part of that heart. I didn’t want anyone else to have it. A flesh and blood part of my love. The one part of her that stored everything we had meant to each other. It was sacred.

“I believe Chloe’s part of the procedure was a success. She’s out of surgery and has been transferred to the morgue. The female recipient is undergoing the transplant at this time.”

Female? I despised her. She got to live. Chloe was dead. I couldn’t see the good in that. We were mourning and some other family was going to be over the moon that their daughter survived at the expense of my girlfriend. That was just so mutant. I didn’t want to think about it anymore

“Take me home, Mom.”