leave it.'
'Take it.'
Opening a nightstand drawer and plucking out a flexible plastic straw,
Maria said to Heather, 'Dr. Procnow's back in the hospital, making his
evening rounds, and Dr. Delaney just got here too. As soon as I saw
the change on Jack's E.E.G, I had them paged.'
Walter Delaney was their family doctor. Though Procnow was nice and
obviously competent, Heather felt better just knowing there was about
to be a familiar face on the medical team dealing with Jack.
'Jack,' Maria said, 'I can't put the bed up because you have to keep
lying flat. And I don't want you to try to raise your head by
yourself, all right?
Let me lift your head for you.'
Maria put one hand behind his neck and raised his head a few inches off
the thin pillow. With her other hand, she held the glass. Heather
reached across the railing and put the straw to Jack's lips.
'Small sips,' Maria warned him. 'You don't want to choke.'
After six or seven sips, with a pause to breathe between each, he'd had
enough.
Heather was delighted out of all proportion to her husband's modest
accomplishment. However, his ability to swallow a thin liquid without
choking probably meant there was no paralysis of his throat muscles,
not even minimal.
She realized how profoundly their lives had changed when such a mundane
act as drinking water without choking was a triumph, but that grim
awareness did not diminish her delight.
As long as Jack was alive, there was a road back to the life they had
known. A long road. One step at a time. Small, small steps. But
there was a road, and nothing else mattered right now.
While Emil Procnow and Walter Delaney examined Jack, Heather used the
phone at the nurse's station to call home. She talked to Mae Hong
first, then Toby, and told them that Jack was going to be all right.
She knew she was putting a rose tint on reality, but a little positive
thinking was good for all of them.
'Can I see him?' Toby asked.
'In a few days, honey.'
'I'm much better. Got better all day. I'm not sick any more.'
'I'll be the judge of that. Anyway, your dad needs a few days to get
his strength back.' bring peanut-butter-and-chocolate ice cream.
That's his favorite.
They won't have that in a hospital, will they?'
'No, nothing like that.'
'Tell Dad I'm gonna bring him some.'
'All right,' she said.
'I want to buy it myself. I have money, from my allowance.'
'You're a good boy, Toby. You know that?'
His voice became soft and shy. 'When you coming home?'
'I don't know, honey. I'll be here awhile. Probably after you're in
bed.'
'Will you bring me something from Dad's room?'
