A Hope and a Chance(59)
Author: Jennifer Foor

I was in denial. There was no way my mother would have lied about something so serious. She’d always taught me to be honest. “Where is she? I need to see her, so she can tell me this is all a mistake. You’re just trying to hurt me.” I stood up and ran out of the house, desperate to find my mother, and put my fears to ease. I didn’t even make it to my car before hunching over with disbelief. I couldn’t fathom that this was actually happening. More importantly, how could she have hid something this severe?

My father came rushing out of the house toward me. He lifted me up and held me in his arms. Though still angry with everything we were going through personally, I clung to him for comfort. He kissed the top of my head as I lost all control of myself. To be honest, I don’t even know how long we stood there in the middle of the driveway. Once I’d finally settled down enough, my father pulled away. “Hope, your mother asked me to bring you to the hospital to see her. She wants to talk to you about what’s going on. It’s going to be okay.”

As much as I wanted to see her, I didn’t know how to look at her lying in that hospital bed. My mother had always been my rock. She’d protected me, seeming like the strongest person on the planet. Now, all of a sudden, I was being told she was weak. Her fragile state left her vulnerable. It almost felt like she was a stranger to me.

As reluctant as I was, I loved my mother, and knew she needed me. After all, she’d given me the best life she could. She taught me how to be the woman I’d become. I owed her everything. Convinced that I was going to be strong, I agreed to allow my father to take me to the hospital.

During the ride I didn’t hold back from breaking down. More than anything I wanted to call Chance, because I knew he’d somehow be able to soothe me. Instead I was sitting next to my father, who’d time and time again let me down.

Once inside of the hospital it became obvious early on that my father had visited before. He knew where to lead me, and once we reached her room, he motioned for me to enter alone. I looked back at him before making my way inside.

No words could begin to describe how I felt when I saw my mother in that bed. Hooked up to monitors, she turned to see me approaching. I watched her reaching a hand out for me to grab. Once I’d taken it, she smiled while displaying weak eyes. “Hi, mom.”

“Hi,” she said in a whisper.

It was impossible to try to remain calm. There was no way that I could see her in this kind of condition and not feel overwhelmed. This woman meant everything to me. “I’m sorry.”

“Please don’t cry.”

I wiped my face off and faked a smile. “Sorry. This is a lot to take in.”

“I’m glad you’re here.” I could tell she was struggling to communicate. “It’s going to be okay.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s never been this bad before. The medicine makes me loopy. We thought it was time you knew the truth, just in case.”

“Are you going to die?” I had to know the truth. I was still in denial that this was really happening. This woman, so fragile, wasn’t the person who’d raised me. This wasn’t the same woman that cursed under her breath at my father. I barely recognized her, which was odd because we’d been together recently.

She attempted to squeeze my hand, but failed. “I’m trying not to.”

I turned when I heard someone coming in the room. A nurse, wearing cat scrubs came inside and began checking vitals. She smiled when our eyes met. “I’ll just be quick.”

“I need to know more. Is there a doctor I can talk to?” It was too hard for my mother to speak in full sentences. I needed someone to give it to me straight.

“Let me page the doctor for you.” She jotted down the information and headed back outside.

While I waited, I smoothed out my mother’s hair, helped her sip on some ice water, and sat on the edge of the bed to be closer to her. Finally an older man entered. He held out his hand. “My name is Dr. Hodgins. I’m your mother’s physician.”

“I need to know what’s going on. Please, can you tell me what’s happening to my mom?”

He nodded. “Sure. Your mom suffers from something called Myocarditis. It’s a condition with the heart where an infection causes inflammation.”

“Is she going to die?” Maybe he would give me a straight answer.

“I’m treating your mom with systemic corticosteroids. Even though this bout is the worst she’s suffered, I’m optimistic she’ll be back to herself in a week or so. Of course, because we’re dealing with the heart, we need to keep her in the hospital until she improves.”

“And then what? Won’t it come back again?”

“Your mother can live a normal life as long as we remain one step ahead of this. Because her heart doesn’t work normally, she’s required to stay on medication, which also prevents these flare ups. In rare cases a transplant is an option, though we’re not near that degree as of yet.”

I was trying to process everything he said, yet the transplant scared the shit out of me. The idea of my mom being on some waiting list to receive a heart, that she’d probably never get, was horrifying.

I sank down in the chair next to the bed, covering my face to hide my tears. This was not how I saw my day going, and the image of my mother next to me in this bed was something I couldn’t soon forget. I hated how weak she looked, and that there was nothing I could do for her.

My father came into the room after speaking to the exiting doctor. He had a soda in his hand and offered it to me. “Here. Drink some ginger ale.”

By this point my mom had fallen asleep. She finally looked peaceful, which made it easier to look in that direction. “I don’t want to leave her.”

“They won’t allow you to stay the night, Hope.”

“I’m staying here, dad. I don’t care about the rules. I’ll hide in the closet if I have to.”

My father wasn’t amused by my announcement. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re going home. You can come back tomorrow. By then she’ll have improved. The doctor said she’s doing great.”

I kept staring at my sleeping mother as I spoke. “Can I get what she has?”

He reached over and touched my shoulder, causing me to look up at his standing body. “No. It’s not genetic, Hope. Most of the time it’s contracted virally.”

“I can’t lose her, dad.” There was this constant burning in my throat as I swallowed back my tears. “I’ll never be able to live with myself if something happens to her and I wasn’t here. Please, let me stay. If I get in trouble I’ll call you. After everything you’ve put me through, I think you could at least have some compassion.”