Rushing inside, I get help from the first nurse I see. “I’m here to see Daniel King, he was just brought in. I’m his son.”
She leads me over, but other than looking in through a glass window to see a man who has my father’s face but I swear looks about twenty years older, there’s nothing I can do. I pace back and forth in the hallway, doing my best not to get in the way as nurses and doctors come in and out. Occasionally, I hear some medical jargon that scares me, but before I can even ask them what the hell ‘hs-CRP’ or ‘Troponins test’ means, they’re gone. I’m left to sit in a chair by the door, staring down at the tile and hoping that the next time a doctor comes out, it’s not to tell me it’s time to say goodbye to my father.
“Mr. King?”
I look up, it’s nearly eight o’clock now but the doctor who’s looking down at me has a relieved look on his face. “Is he . . .?”
“I think we’ve gotten him out of the woods,” the doctor says as he holds out a hand. “Glen Stoker, I’m the on-call cardiologist. When your father was brought in, it was for a suspected myocardial infarction . . . a heart attack. We’ve confirmed that he did in fact have a pretty severe MI. We’ve stabilized him for now, and I think he’s out of the woods. He looks like he’s normally a pretty active guy, so that’s in his favor.”
“He is,” I confirm, standing up to look at Dad. He’s sleeping, but I can see the heart monitor next to his head, and the little wiggly line reassures me. “He’s been on blood pressure and cholesterol meds for a few years, but nothing like this has ever happened.”
“We’ll have to keep him here a few more days, and talk with his primary care doctor. Do you have that information?”
“I think he’s still going to Dr. Jack Reynolds, I don’t have his number though. That’s at home.”
“That’s okay, I know Jack,” Dr. Stoker says. “Listen, it’ll be a few minutes before we can have a room ready for him. For now though, he’d do better if his son was with him. And Mr. King?”
“Yeah?” I ask, not looking at the doctor at all.
“He’s in good hands here. For now, just make sure he stays calm.”
I go inside the exam room, where the beeping of the various machines still reassures me that my father is still alive. Looking down at him, he looks so old, so frail . . . my vision doubles, then blurs, and before I know it tears are running down my face as I reach down, blindly taking his hand.
“I never told you how much you mean to me,” I whisper, afraid to wake him. “But I promise you, you’re going to find out. You think you never understood why I do what I do . . . but I’m just trying to tell the world that love, real love, like what you and Mom had . . . it does exist. And I want to do everything in my power to make sure that type of love doesn’t die. I love you, Dad.”
In the movies, he’d wake up right now, maybe whisper a few words, either sarcastic or loving, depending on the type of movie. But this isn’t a movie, this is real life, and all I can do is sit down in another chair and rest my forehead against the bars on the side of his bed.
I want to call Kat, I need to hear her voice telling me it’ll be okay, but in my haste of rushing into the hospital, I left my phone in the car and I can’t leave right now.
It’ll be all right, for now. She’s out with friends, happy and celebrating. I don’t want to ruin her celebration, I know how hard she worked for this. I’ll let her enjoy the evening and when dad gets transferred up to his room, I’ll slip out and grab my phone.
It’ll be late, but I need to hear her voice.
Chapter 22
Kat
The bar, one of those weird little spots that could only exist in a city near a university with a large computer science department and plenty of techies like me, is rockin’ for the type of customers it collects. On one side of the place, three of the interns from the company are engaged in a sick Starcraft battle royale, while around my table are a gaggle of people tossing back European microbrews, trying to look hipster and utterly failing. But we’re having a blast, and that’s all that matters.
“So, what’s next?” my co-worker asks as he looks over at me. “Plan to take over the world?”
I shake my head, sipping at my wine. “Nope, team lead for the new game app. Apparently, they need a healer.”