*continued from first blog

We walked into his room, he was alone. “How could they leave him alone?!” I angrily thought. There were wires and tubes everywhere. There he was, laying in that bed, staring at the ceiling, while all the machines worked urgently to produce his state of being. I just stood there and stared at him in shock. “You can talk to him, you can touch him, it’s okay. Let him know you are here” my sister encouraged. “Baby, I’m here, you have had a stroke and you are in the hospital, I am here with you…..I love you so much” I petted his silky hair.  A doctor walked in “your boyfriend has had aneurysm and it’s pretty bad” his accent made it difficult for me to understand. “Can I look at CT the scans?”my sister asked. “yes, come with me”he sighed, he was annoyed. When my sister returned she looked at me, she looked into my eyes-into my soul paralyzed with fear. “It’s bad sis, really bad, he has an 80% bleed on his brain”. I stood there for a moment trying to process what she had just said. “Can he come back from this, he has a chance right?” “Well this is really bad, I may be wrong, I hope I am, but it looks like he doesn’t have much of a chance” She said hesitantly. “He can’t die, no she’s wrong, he’s gonna be okay, he’s going to a good hospital, they can fix this”my mind told me. It wasn’t ready to accept his fate, I still needed that hope to cling securely to. Before I could even shake myself out of shock to respond a nurse came in and told us he was going to flown to a better equipped hospital.


One last goodbye, one more I love you before he was sent off to the bigger hospital. “Can he even hear me I thought, God I hope so”. My sister drove. I don’t remember much other than staring out the window as my tears burned my cheeks. “Sis, I just want to be realistic, this may not end well, that’s a big bleed, I’ve never seen anyone survive one like that” “But if he does, he can do rehab, I can take care of him, he will be okay” I replied, I knew she was wrong. “Miracles happen all the time and I have been wrong before” she reassured hesitantly. Silence. We couldn’t get there fast enough. “why are these fucking cars not moving out of the way with the blinkers on” I wanted to scream out but the silence continued. What else was there to say?

We arrived at the hospital, his family there in the waiting room. They asked me to tell the story of what happened. “He will be okay” his mother said. “I hope” I whimpered as I turned my gaze to the floor. Hours went by as the medical team worked to get him stable. Finally we could go see him. His mother went first and then myself and my sister-she never left my side. We enter the room, even more tubing and cables. He looked the same but that was a lot of equipment and drugs. I took my time holding his hand and telling him how much me and the baby loved him, that he would need to fight hard to get through this for us. Back to the waiting room, family rotated in and out every 15 minutes. A nurse walked in asking for his family. We all stood up. “If you would come with me, we will use a room to give you a little privacy” Hmmm I had never had this happen in the past during my experience with sick family. We all walked in and sat down in this cramped room about the size of walk in closet. “Okay, I am really sorry to say this but, there is nothing we can do for him, he’s been declared brain dead” I fell in the floor screaming No and sobbing to the point to where I was beginning to hyperventilate.I didn’t need to hear the rest, I was losing my best friend, my soul mate, the father of my child” I had never reacted to bad news like,in fact I always thought it was silly when I would see people react that way, that they were faking it. I literally had no control over my body, mind or emotions at that moment.My sister picked me up out of the floor, the rest of the family was asking question to the nurse. “This isn’t fair, why would this happen to us, we had our whole future planned out” My sister held me in her arms sobbing with me “I don’t know sweetie, it’s not fair at all”.I had gotten down on my knees in one of the bathrooms there and begged God to save his life, why hasn’t He fixed this? I questioned my beliefs, my existence, my future.

The next few days I lived in the hospital, if you can call it living, I survived in the hospital. I did not eat or drink or shower. I just sat there and cried, occasionally getting up to walk the hospital halls in between visits. But I never left his side, not once. I would sit there numb to anything else and silently pray for a miracle even though I was sure by now that this was it.Im not sure I carried on an actual conversation with anyone those days. I cried to the point that my eyes were no longer producing tears. My baby would kick and stretch my belly very often this time, probably due to the lack of food she was receiving and stress hormones going in the womb. But every time I felt her, I was reminded of how this little girl was going to be born into the world without a daddy. Visiting him was more so me holding hand or pet his hair. You could barely get to him with all the machinery. His lips had began to dry and chap,  his nose was filled with mucus,  this wasn’t the man I was in love with, he was already gone, this was a shell of him. A nurse came in and checked on me, reset some IV’s and hung some new ones. The defining moment for was when she used her pen light to see if you could get a reaction out of his pupils when it was shined in eyes. They did nothing, never constricted. She just looked at me sadly. In fact every time I made the  trip to see him the staff would watch me as I waddled to his room, their eyebrows furrowed, smiles wiped away and replaced with a quick frown.

By the third day, everyone had given up hope I feel like. There were less visits, no hopeful smiles, just silence. Because his brain had been injured so badly it could no longer control his internal body temperature, he temperature rose by the hour.His body was shutting down on it’s own, it wasn’t going to wait for us to “be ready”, his body rejected the life support from doing it’s job. I knew then that today was the day. The last time I would ever be able to see him “alive” or touch his arm and feel the warmth of his body like there was someone there. By the end of the day even ice wasn’t able to keep his fever down. They asked if they could unhook him from the machine. The family finally agreed. He died, there was no miraculous recovery, he didn’t just wake up once they took him off life support, no this was it this time, this was real.





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