Jacked (Trent Brothers #1)(64)

My pager chimed, vibrating from the pocket of my medical coat. The number displayed was for the ICU.

I slipped my cell back into my pocket after returning the page. Everything in my chest tightened, cutting off my ability to breathe.

I ran to the elevator, pushing the button several times, but it was taking too long. I sprinted down the hallway, slamming my shoulder into the door to the stairwell. I ran both flights of stairs up to the third floor.

The antiseptic smell of the ICU overpowered me, burning my nose as I jogged down the tiled hall. My sneakers squeaked on the floor with each step, breaking the relative quiet of the intensive care unit.

My father was leaning hard on the metal doorframe outside my uncle’s room, looking as though he’d just had the wind knocked out of him. He had on a pale yellow long-sleeved medical gown covering the front of his body that was falling off his shoulders, exposing his street clothing underneath, and blue latex medical gloves that were protocol for all ICU visitors. He noticed me over his arm and slowly straightened; his face so sullen and anguished that it was almost unbearable to witness.

Dad held my face after he hugged me. “What happened? You’re hurt.”

I shook my head. “It’s nothing. A patient—” My words cut off when the pool of tears dripped down his cheeks.

His entire body shook as he wept in my arms. I tried to be his strength but my own was waning fast.

My cousin Nate slipped around the curtain shielding the view of my uncle, exposing a sliver of an elderly man clad in all black. He read from the book held in his hands. Daylight from the window glinted off the beaded rosary dangling from his fingers.

Nate’s wife Andrea hurried behind him. Both passed me, stopping only a few feet from the doorway. Nate covered his eyes and broke down into choking tears.

My own anguish roiled, sending a blaze of anguish throughout my chest and up into my throat.

“Kids decided to remove him… from the… the life support,” my father stuttered into my shoulder.

I knew my uncle wasn’t improving and one by one his major organs were starting to fail. There was no bouncing back at this point but I didn’t know they’d be making the final decision of his treatment today. I tried to search for words of comfort. “I know it’s hard to take, Dad, but it’s for the best.”

His breath stuttered. “I know.”

I tried to speak through the burn and tears. “Uncle Cal would hate to be hooked up to all of those machines. You know he would.”

I felt his cheek brush my hair, nodding in acknowledgement. “I know,” he sputtered. “Your mom and I talked it over with the boys. Still, it’s not an easy decision. I can’t. I can’t go back in there. Your mother…”

I rubbed his back, trying to sooth him. “I know.”

Hearing my mom’s muted wails from the other side of the curtain as she said her final goodbyes tore my heart to pieces.

I gave my dad one last kiss on the cheek before letting him go.

My mother and cousin were huddled together near the long spans of window. The bleak and cloudy backdrop of Philadelphia seemed so aptly befitting.

My mom had her face mashed into Chris’s chest while hospital staff removed my uncle’s breathing tube from the ventilator. Chris stood tall and rubbed her back, crying his own silent tears as he somehow found the last ounce of bravery within him.

“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want,” the priest recited. “He maketh me to lie down in green pastures, He leadeth me beside the still waters, He restoreth my soul. He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for though art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies. Thou anointest my head with oil, my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”

Everything hit me at once, making me hyperaware of my surroundings, though it all seemed very irrationally unreal. The sight of my mother beyond distraught and falling apart crushed me. The anguish scorching my lungs was almost unbearable. My cousin Chris, who was just two years younger than me, suffering to keep a brave face clashed with my sudden anger. I knew both of my cousins had just made a very difficult decision, but my mother was too fragile to endure bearing witness to my uncle’s final moments. She didn’t need to be here like this, watching this. He needed to get her out of this room instead of facilitating it.

Uncle Cal’s attending, Doctor Paul Webber, passed in front of me, his face impassive. I presumed he was doing his best to ignore the drowning feeling that surrounds you when a patient is dying in front of you and you can’t do a damn thing to stop it. The nursing staff was working methodically, disconnecting my uncle from life support.

“Mom… come.” I tried to move her. “You don’t want this memory.”

“No!” She refused to budge.

I wrapped myself around her, hugging any part of her I could reach, doing my best to comfort her.

Within moments, the constant monotone of a heart monitor no longer keeping rhythms marked the final process.

Doctor Webber hushed his voice to announce the official time of death and made a notation on the chart in his hand. He handed it to one of the nurses and then came over to us. I wondered for a moment if this latest loss had caused another weary line to permanently crinkle this doctor’s face or take him one step closer to his own sad finality.