He lay supine on the bed; tubes snaking up his nose and his chest rose and fell with strain. The machine showed his heart beat. The doctor said there is nothing more to be done; I instead waited on a miracle.
He was in the Intensive Care Unit, I was not permitted entry. I could not hold his hand; I desperately wished to say to him that he is going to be ok, that I will never let him leave me.
Jake is so young, we planned on taking the weekend off away from his tensions, just me and him. His skin had turned pale, his breath weak. Last Friday, I got a call from his office; he was admitted to John Memorial Hospital because he had fallen unconscious.
My heart skipped a beat wasting no time I rushed to the hospital. The doctor had him in observation. I was called for after 10 long minutes, Doctor Jane said that his liver function had failed and his kidney had started to deteriorate. He had just a few days to live.
I thought it was just a nightmare from which I will wake up to find Jake besides me on our bed. Dr Jane patted me on the shoulder and the fact dawned on me.
“Let us hope for the best, we will continue to give him medicines as long as he can hold on “she had said before she left.
That morning I had seen him in all his vitality, little did I know that this was never bound to last.
The hallway where I stood was empty except for the occasional visit of nurses to check upon him. Time and space did not seem to exist anymore.
I was allowed inside this morning. I stayed by his side and held his hand. He did not open his eyes, unconscious to everything. I sat listening to the murmur of machines, savoring the breaths he took.
The rush of a gurney being wheeled inside broke me from my chain of thoughts .A baby was wheeled inside, his Mother and Father stood huddled in grief.
“Your baby had a minor heart problem, his heart beats are erratic. It is curable.” I heard their doctor say.
An alarm broke; Jake’s heart monitor showed his life lines flattened. The Doctors rushed in, I ran inside without an invitation. Dr Jane felt his pulse and shook her head sympathetically. I knew then that it was all over. The nurses moved to make way for me.
I shook him hoping to wake him up. His body was cold as marble, pale as death. The baby’s heart had revived nurses uttered a scream of joy as a wail escaped from the infant’s mouth. The joyous parents rushed in to see him, while I drowned in my sorrow. Life is a waif that flits from one abode to another.