I was a bundle of nerves by the time we made it to the hospital. My main concern was finding out where Dawn was and how she was doing, but in the ten minutes it had taken Brian to drive us there, a million other worries had manifested in the back of my mind.
What would we do if Dawn had to be admitted? Would we stay in Georgia or go home without her? Where would we stay? How would we get home? What about school? What about the ski trip? These were the kind of questions buzzing around in my brain as Brian pulled into the emergency parking lot.
There were plenty of handicapped spaces up front. Brian parked my van in one of them. While he lowered the ramp for me, Mason unbuckled me from the back. “Thanks, buddy,” I said as I wheeled myself toward the doorway. “You’ve been such a big help this morning.”
Mason didn’t reply until I had rolled down the ramp. “What’s that word say?” he asked me, pointing up at the big, red letters above the arched overhang outside the entrance of the two-story, tan brick building.
“Emergency.” Swallowing hard, I dug the heels of my hands into my push rims and propelled my chair up the sidewalk. Mason stayed right next to me, holding onto one of my handles, while Brian walked behind us.
Once inside, I gave the woman at the registration desk Dawn’s name and was directed through a set of doors and down a hallway to her temporary room. “How about I wait out here with Mason while you go in and see how Dawn’s doing?” Brian suggested, giving me a meaningful glance as we stopped outside her door. It stood partially open, but a privacy curtain had been pulled across the glass partition, preventing us from seeing inside.
“Good idea,” I replied, flashing him a grateful smile in return. “I’ll be right back, Mase.” I took a deep breath before I went through the doorway, trying to brace myself for whatever I might find on the other side.
“Is that you, Kevin?” I heard Dawn’s voice call. The familiar sound was like music to my ears.
My shoulders sagged as I let out the breath I’d been holding. “Yeah, it’s me. You decent in there?”
“Yup. Come on in!”
Pushing the door open wider, I rolled slowly into the room.
To my relief, Dawn was sitting up in bed, still wearing the damp t-shirt and sweatpants she’d had on in the hotel. Her whole face lit up when she saw me. “Hey… you made it.”
“I told you I’d be here,” I replied with a smile. “How ya feelin’?”
“A little better. Katie here is taking good care of me.” She tipped her chin toward the young, blonde nurse who stood next to her bed, typing notes into a computer on a cart.
Glancing up, Katie smiled at me. “You must be Kevin.”
“That’s right.” I rolled closer, parking my chair on the other side of Dawn’s bed, where there was more room. “Have you been seen by a doctor yet?” I asked her.
Dawn nodded. “Briefly. They don’t think I’m having a heart attack, but they won’t be able to rule it out until they get my test results. So far, they’ve done an EKG and drawn some blood.” She held out her right arm, showing me the cotton ball covered by a Band-aid in the crook of her elbow. An IV had been started in her other arm. “They’re gonna monitor me here until my bloodwork comes back.”
“They got you all wired up, huh?” There was a blood pressure cuff wrapped around her right arm and a pulse oximeter clipped to her left index finger. I could see a bundle of wires coming out from under the top and bottom of her t-shirt, connecting her to a monitor that kept track of her heartbeat and other vital signs. My eyes followed the green line as it spiked steadily across the screen. Her heart rate still seemed high, but the other numbers looked okay to me.
“Yup.” Dawn sighed. “Sorry again about all this.”
“What are you talking about? I told you, don’t worry about it,” I said, offering her another reassuring smile. “If anything, I’m the one who should be sorry.”
Her brow furrowed. “For what?”
“For dragging you down here for a damn Super Bowl party I didn’t even really wanna go to, even though I knew you weren’t feeling a hundred percent. And for giving you the flu in the first place.”
“I could have just as easily gotten it from Mason. Look, Kevin, you don’t need to apologize for anything. I had fun last night – maybe a little too much fun,” she said wryly, resting her hand on her stomach. Then she shook her head. “Besides… I don’t think this has anything to do with the flu.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, frowning.
Dawn sucked in a deep breath and let it out with another audible sigh. “The truth is, I haven’t felt one hundred percent for weeks… months, even. The fatigue and shortness of breath started sometime before Christmas. At first, I told myself it was just my body’s way of responding to the stress of such a busy time of year. And when I didn’t feel any better after the holidays, I made more excuses: I’m old and overweight and out of shape, so, of course, I wouldn’t have as much stamina as I used to. But I think it’s more than that.”
A fresh wave of anxiety crashed over my head, washing away any sense of relief I’d felt earlier. My breath caught in my throat as I waited for her to elaborate. But, before she could continue, the blood pressure cuff let out a low groan as it began to inflate automatically. Dawn paused, grimacing as it tightened around her arm. Glancing up at the monitor, I watched the numbers climb. Despite the calm, quiet way in which she’d been speaking, I could tell she was nervous. But when the pain cleared from her pale blue eyes, I observed that the gleam of wild panic I had seen in them earlier had been replaced by a dull look of resignation.
As the cuff finished deflating, Dawn took another deep breath. “I started seeing a cardiologist after I found out I was a carrier of DMD,” she said, her gaze drifting downward. “At first, I went every five years, just to make sure my heart was functioning normally. After I turned forty, my doctor noticed some subtle changes in my EKG, but since I didn’t have any symptoms of heart disease, she didn’t seem too worried. She told me to start coming every three years instead of five, so we could keep a closer eye on it.” As she spoke, her hand moved from her stomach to her chest. “My last check-up was almost three years ago, and, all things considered, everything looked okay then. My next appointment was scheduled for the end of this month, so I thought I could wait until then, but… maybe not.” Frowning, she massaged a spot beneath her left breast.
The nurse, Katie, must have noticed. “How are you feeling now, hon?” she asked, removing the stethoscope from around her neck and slipping it into her ears. I had almost forgotten she was in the room. “Is the chest pain better or worse than before?”
“Better. The aspirin helped some,” Dawn answered, lowering her hand to her side as the nurse slid the round end of the stethoscope down the front of her shirt.
“That’s good to hear. Deep breath in for me, please.” Katie bent over her bed, listening to the left side of her chest, then the right. “Are you still short of breath?”
“A little. It’s not as bad when I’m sitting up like this.”
Katie pursed her lips as she looked at the monitor. “Let me track down your doctor and see if I can give you some extra oxygen. I’ll be right back, okay?”
When the nurse left the room, I leaned closer to Dawn’s bed, looking her in the eye. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She took a shaky breath. “Because I didn’t wanna risk losing my job… my insurance… my home.” Blinking back tears, she went on, “I love working for you… and living with you and Mason. In the last four years, y’all have become like a family to me. I’ve lost one family before; I don’t wanna lose another one.”
A lump rose in my throat. Swallowing, I said, “What, you think I would fire you? For getting sick?”
“Why would you keep me around if I couldn’t do my job anymore?” she countered.
“Because, like you said, we’re family.” I reached out to her, resting my right hand on top of hers. “It goes both ways, Dawn; I care about you just as much as you care about Mason and me. When you first met me, I was just starting to get back on my feet – figuratively speaking, anyway.” I flashed her a crooked smile, and she cracked one in return as a single tear escaped her right eye. “But I was still missing Kristin like crazy,” I continued, “still struggling to fill the void she left in our lives. I didn’t just hire live-in help to cook and clean and take care of us; I hired you because I was lonely and looking for companionship from someone I could carry on an actual adult conversation with. You’ve become so much more to me than just a caregiver, a personal assistant, a housekeeper, or a nanny. I would never turn my back on you or kick you to the curb just because you couldn’t work anymore. No matter what happens, I’ll make sure you always have a roof over your head and a safety net underneath you, so don’t even worry about that. Right now, you just need to focus on feeling better. Got it?”
“Got it,” she whispered, giving me a grateful smile. Tears flowed freely down her face as she turned her hand over, palm up, and took hold of mine, gripping it tightly. “Thanks, Kevin.”
When Katie came back, she took one look at Dawn’s blotchy face and rushed to her bedside. “Oh no! What’s wrong, hon?” she asked with a worried expression, her eyes darting between Dawn and the heart monitor over her head.
Dawn shook her head. “Nothing. I’m fine,” she assured her. “Just having myself a little moment here.”
The nurse’s face relaxed. “Well, sure, you are. That’s perfectly normal and not a problem at all,” she replied, patting Dawn’s shoulder. “I just wanted to make sure your pain wasn’t getting worse.” She handed her a tissue, then shuffled behind her bed and turned on a valve on the wall. “So, I spoke with Dr. Edwards. He’s still waiting on your labs to come back, but in the meantime, he said we can try some supplemental oxygen through a nasal cannula to make you more comfortable.” As she talked, Katie took a length of clear plastic tubing out of its packaging and connected it to the valve. After adjusting the settings, she slipped the prongs of the cannula into Dawn’s nostrils. “This should help with your shortness of breath,” she said, tucking the thin tubes behind her ears and tightening the connecting piece that brought them together beneath her chin. “How’s that feel?”
“Fine,” Dawn said, self-consciously wiping her eyes with the tissue.
Sensing that she could use a minute to compose herself, I cleared my throat. “Hey, you mind if I go check on Mason? I left him waiting in the hall with Brian. I should probably update them on how you’re doing.”
“No, that’s fine. He’s welcome to come into the room, if he wants to,” she replied. “I probably scared him by passing out this morning; it might help for him to see that I’m all right, more or less.”
I nodded, promising to bring Mason back with me when I returned. I didn’t see him or Brian outside Dawn’s room, so I rolled further down the hall to a waiting area with a few vending machines. Of course, that was where I found them, feeding a dollar bill into one of the slots.
“Breakfast,” Brian said with a sheepish grin as Mason fished a bag of Cheetos out of the bottom. “He was getting hungry. You don’t mind, do ya?”
“Not as long as you don’t mind wiping the orange dust off his fingers when he’s done,” I replied, grinning back.
Brian chuckled. “Hey, Mason, lemme help you open that, bud.” He took the bag before Mason could tear into it, pulled apart the top seam, and handed it back. “So, how’s Dawn doing?”
“She’s okay.” I chose my words carefully, watching Mason out of the corner of my eye. He appeared to be preoccupied with eating cheese curls, but I knew he was probably still listening closely. “They’re waiting on test results. Apparently, the doctor doesn’t think she had a heart attack, but Dawn’s worried it may still be heart-related.”
“I hope not.” Brian frowned, his hand drifting toward the open collar of his blue button-down shirt. I could just see the top of his scar above the white tank top he wore underneath it. “But, hey, if it is, hopefully it’s something fixable.”
I nodded, not sure if a genetic mutation that caused the heart muscle to weaken would be considered “fixable” in the same way his congenital defect had been. But, then, no one even knew if that was what had caused Dawn to pass out. It could be something else entirely. No point in worrying about it until we know for sure what’s wrong, I told myself, trying to stay positive.
“You wanna walk back to her room with me?” I asked Brian. “I told her I would bring Mason. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you visited, too.”
“Yeah, sure,” he replied. “Maybe I could talk to her… pray with her… give her some peace of mind. I mean, if it is heart-related, I’ve been down that road before. I remember how scary it was.”
“That’d be great. Thanks, man.” I gave him a grateful smile, then turned to Mason, who was sitting in a chair, happily scarfing down Cheetos. “Hey, Mase, you ready to go see Dawn now?”
He nodded eagerly and jumped up from his seat, Cheetos bag in hand.
“Okay, come on.” As I pushed myself toward Dawn’s room, I tried to prepare my son for what he would see when we went inside, telling him about the various tubes and wires that were attached to her. “Some of it may look a little scary, but it’s nothing to be afraid of.”
When we reached the room, Mason clung to my side as we crossed the threshold. “I’m back, and I brought company,” I announced with a smile.
Having dried her tears, Dawn beamed back. “There’s my boy. C’mere, Mase.” She patted the space beside her on the hospital bed, then opened her arms wide.
“Go ahead,” I whispered, giving him a little nudge in the back. “It’s okay.”
Mason hesitated only a second before he bolted over to her. He climbed up onto the bed and nestled his body next to hers, the same way he liked to cuddle with her on the couch at home. Dawn wrapped her arm around him, hugging him close to her side. “I’m sorry if I scared you this morning,” I heard her say softly. “I’m so proud of you for everything you did to help me and your dad back at the hotel.”
Watching the two of them together made me misty-eyed. I wasn’t the only one who cared deeply about Dawn. She was the closest thing Mason had to a mother. He’d already lost his real mom; I couldn’t let him lose her, too. That was why I was willing to do whatever it took to keep her in our lives.
“Want a Cheeto?” Mason offered, holding out the half-empty bag he’d brought onto the bed with him. I cringed, imagining orange fingerprints and crumbs all over the crisp, white hospital sheet, although I supposed it had been soiled with much worse.
Dawn just laughed. “No, thanks, kiddo; I’d better not. I don’t think my doctor would approve.”
“Breakfast of champions,” Brian said, grinning as he stood in the doorway. “Hey, Dawn. Mind if I come in?”
“Not if Katie doesn’t.” She looked to her nurse.
Katie glanced up from the notes she was typing. “Typically, we limit it to one or two visitors at a time. But, since one of them’s a child, and the other one brought his own chair, I suppose there’s room for a third.” She winked at me, then smiled at Brian. “Come on in. Just try to stay out of the way when the doctor comes back to talk to Dawn.”
“Got it.” Brian sat down in the open visitor chair, which was pushed up against the wall. “How ya doin’, Dawn? I hope we didn’t party too hard for you last night.”
She sighed and shook her head. “I guess I just can’t hang anymore, huh? How pathetic. But I’m all right. Thanks for bringing the boys here.”
“No problem. I dunno what the plan is, but y’all are welcome to stay with us in Littrellville for as long as you want,” he said, looking from her to me. “Even if they don’t admit Dawn, I don’t think she should be driving all the way back to Lexington today. Do you?”
I shook my head. “No. We’ll definitely need a place to stay the night.” Now that I knew that Dawn was “all right, more or less,” as she’d put it, my brain circled back to the other concerns that had been bothering me on the way in. “I asked about the possibility of adding an extra night to our reservation when I checked out of the hotel this morning, but the lady at the front desk said my room had already been reserved for tonight. They don’t have any other accessible rooms available.”
“I just said you could stay with us.” Brian looked at me like I was stupid. “We’ve got plenty of room!”
“I appreciate the offer, cuz, but you don’t have any bedrooms downstairs. I don’t expect you and Leighanne to carry me up and down the stairs, and I can’t just crash on the couch or floor anymore – pressure sores,” I explained apologetically, not wanting to seem ungrateful. “I’ll have to look for an accessible room at another hotel.”
“How are you gonna get in and out of bed?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Someone would have to stay with you, right? Someone besides Mason?”
He was right, of course. I couldn’t transfer independently or get dressed on my own, and I couldn’t depend on a five-year-old to help me with those things. I needed another adult who was willing to assist me. “Are you volunteering?” I asked Brian.
Before he could answer, Dawn interjected. “Why don’t y’all wait to cross that bridge when you come to it? We don’t even know if I’ll need to stay the night. If I have my way, I’ll be out of here today, and then I’ll be around to help. Let’s not worry about this right now.”
I gave her a doubtful look. “No offense, Dawn, but you passed out in the middle of my morning routine. Even if they do release you today, I dunno if you should be doing all that heavy lifting.”
“It’s not that much!” she protested. “You do most of the-” She paused, the last word dying on her lips as the heart monitor let out a high-pitched ding.
Mason sat up abruptly, searching for the source of the sound. “What is that?” he asked worriedly.
I looked up at the monitor to see that Dawn’s heart rate had shot up to 130 beats per minute. Her blood pressure was high as well.
The nurse, Katie, cleared her throat. “Gentlemen, I’m going to have to ask you to finish your conversation outside or save it for later,” she said as she reached for her stethoscope. “Right now, Dawn needs to rest and relax.”
“Sorry,” I said guiltily. “Mason, get down so the nurse can make sure she’s okay.”
Dawn sighed, seeming annoyed. “I’m fine!” she insisted as Katie leaned over to listen to her chest again.
“No, she’s right,” I replied. “We should wait until we hear what the doctor has to say. Then we’ll decide what to do.”
Thankfully, we didn’t have to wait much longer. A few minutes later, a balding, middle-aged man strode into the room and introduced himself as Dr. Edwards. “Would you like some privacy while we go over your test results?” he asked Dawn.
“Mason, why don’t you take a little walk with Brian and go look for the cafeteria? See if you can find something better than Cheetos for breakfast,” she suggested, smiling at him briefly before her eyes shifted to me. “Kevin can stay.”
Seeing the anxiety in her expression, I nodded. “That sounds like a good idea. Go ahead, Mason.” I shot Brian a grateful smile as he grabbed Mason’s hand and led him out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Dr. Edwards got right down to business. “Well, Ms. Leeuwenhoek, I have good news and bad,” he began, sounding just like the urgent care doctor who had diagnosed my influenza two weeks earlier. “Let’s start with the good news: your labs confirmed that you are not having a heart attack. The blood tests came back negative for the biomarkers or signs we typically see in heart attack patients.”
Dawn nodded, managing a tiny, tight-lipped smile. “That’s a relief. But, then, what’s the bad news?”
“Well, there were some abnormalities in your EKG that, while not indicative of a heart attack, do warrant further investigation,” he said with a frown. “Your labs also showed elevated levels of a hormone in your blood called a B-type natriuretic peptide – BNP for short. High levels of this hormone are a sign that your heart isn’t working as well as it should.” Scratching the bald spot on the crown of his head, the doctor continued, “I’ve consulted with one of our cardiologists, and, given your medical history and the symptoms you presented with this morning, we’re going to admit you for more testing.”
Dawn’s shoulders slumped. “Couldn’t I just go home and follow up with my cardiologist in Kentucky?” she asked. “I’m feeling a lot better than I was earlier.”
The doctor’s frown deepened. “Of course, we can’t keep you here against your will, Ms. Leeuwenhoek, but you would be leaving against medical advice.”
“It’s just that I’m Kevin’s primary caregiver,” she added, motioning to me. “I drove him down here, and if I can’t get home, then he’s gonna be stuck here, too, without an accessible place to stay or anyone to take care of him and his son – who should be in school, by the way.”
“Don’t worry about us, Dawn,” I said, shaking my head. “We’ll figure it out. You should do what the doctor thinks is best.” Besides wanting to reassure her that Mason and I would be all right without her, I wanted her doctor to see that I wasn’t some drooling invalid. Dawn had made it sound like I was completely dependent on her, which wasn’t true. I could make do with Brian acting as my temporary attendant, if it came down to that.
“How long would I have to stay in the hospital?” Dawn wanted to know.
“At least overnight. But, depending on the diagnosis, it could be several days or more,” the doctor said.
Dawn sighed, dragging a hand through her frizzy curls. Sensing her frustration, I said, “It’s okay, Dawn. Really. Brian can stay with us tonight, and Natalie will be home tomorrow. If nothing else, I can have her drive me and Mason back to Lexington. I know she’s off work the rest of this week.” Because we’re supposed to go to Aspen on Friday. I filled in the rest inside my head, refusing to say it out loud. I didn’t want Dawn to feel bad about the ski trip, which was now in jeopardy. She knew how much I had been looking forward to it.
Dawn nodded but said nothing, staring down at her lap in silence. Suddenly, I realized how selfish I was for making this all about me instead of her. I remembered how she’d stood up for me in the urgent care clinic, managing to convince the doctor to let her monitor me at home to keep me out of the hospital. I should have been trying to figure out a way to return the favor, not worrying about missing out on my romantic weekend getaway with Natalie.
“If you’re in agreement, I’ll have Katie here get started on your admission paperwork right away,” Dr. Edwards said. “You’ll be moved to a new room in our inpatient tower as soon as one is available. In the meantime, the cardiologist will come down to discuss the additional testing with you. Do you have any other questions for me?”
That was when the idea came to me. “Couldn’t we have her flown to a hospital closer to home, like in a helicopter or something?” I asked. “The University of Kentucky’s hospital in Lexington, where we live, has a great cardiology program; my cousin was a heart patient there when he was a kid.”
The doctor considered this. “We transfer patients to Atlanta all the time, but Lexington is too far for one of our helicopters to fly. You’d have to arrange for transportation on a private medical plane, which could be very costly,” he said.
I didn’t think twice before answering. “That’s okay. If you can get approval for a transfer to Lexington, I’ll cover the cost.”
“Kevin, that’s crazy!” Dawn exclaimed, staring at me with an expression of disbelief. “That could cost tens of thousands of dollars! I can’t let you waste that kind of money on me.”
“It wouldn’t be a waste. This way, we could all go home,” I reasoned. “That’s what you want, right?”
“Well, yeah, but-”
“Lemme make some calls,” I said, cutting her off. “Natalie may have connections, working in the airline industry. I’ll see what I can find out.”
Before Dawn could argue with me, I left the room and rolled down the hall to a quieter part of the emergency department. I parked my chair there, pulled out my phone, and called Natalie’s number. I held my breath as I listened to the phone ring, praying she would pick up. Just before it was about to go to voicemail, I heard a soft click, and then her voice came on the line. “Hey, babe!” she answered brightly. “How’s it goin’?”
I let out the breath I’d been holding with a sigh of relief. “Not good,” I replied, tears prickling in the corners of my eyes as the flood of emotions I’d been trying to contain all morning came pouring out. “Nat… I need you.”
***