“Tor, I’ll be fine. I just need to get some sleep. And you do too,” he said. He was adamant and I knew I wouldn’t be able to change his mind. He lay back down slowly, still holding his stomach.
“I’ll get you some ibuprofen,” I said quietly and got out of bed. Wesley nodded and closed his eyes. I went to the kitchen and got two pills and a glass of water. Wesley took them and I stepped out of my jeans beside the bed.
I tried to sleep, but I knew it was futile. I listened to Wesley’s breathing when he dozed off occasionally, but he mostly twisted and turned in bed. An hour passed and Wesley sat up again, his hands over his stomach and his face scrunched up. I sat up and rubbed his back softly.
“Maybe… maybe I should go,” he gasped.
I jumped out of bed and pulled my jeans up. I got a pair of blue jeans for Wesley and pulled the covers off, but when he tried to swing his legs to the side of the bed, a sudden pang made him recoil.
“Slowly, okay?” I said, touching his knee and helping him put his jeans on. He was in a lot more pain than he admitted to, and I was angry with myself for not realizing how bad it was.
We got to the hospital around 3:00 a.m. and the ER was pretty empty. A nurse called for Wesley after about half an hour and led him to a small exam room. She took his temperature and blood pressure while he sat uncomfortably on the paper-covered table. We waited another ten minutes until the doctor showed up and asked what was wrong. Wesley explained his symptoms while I interjected regularly and the doctor asked Wesley to lie down. He pressed on his stomach and Wesley gritted his teeth in pain. Then the doctor calmly explained that he thought it was appendicitis and that Wesley needed a CT scan to confirm the diagnosis.
Wesley changed into a hospital gown and was taken to have the scan. I folded his clothes and waited in the small exam room, fidgeting nervously, until Wesley returned. He sat down beside me and took my hand, telling me not to worry. I kept my tears at bay, but I had to stare at my lap because if I looked at him, I knew I would start crying.
Minutes ticked by and at last, the doctor returned. He explained the results of the CT scan, confirmed the appendicitis, and told us that Wesley needed an emergency appendectomy. Wesley’s hands tightened around mine and I felt tears slowly begin to well and overflow. Wesley was lucky, the doctor went on, that the appendix didn’t rupture and that he was eligible for laparoscopic surgery, which consisted of four small incisions in the abdomen to remove the appendix. It was less invasive than the traditional procedure and greatly reduced the recovery time. The doctor had already spoken with the surgeon on duty, and Wesley was scheduled for 8:00 a.m.
“A nurse will be in shortly to give you some painkillers and a tranquilizer. Do you have any questions?” the doctor asked from the threshold. Wesley shook his head. “Well, take care. Someone from general surgery will come for you in a short while.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” I uttered weakly, smiling as best as I could manage.
The doctor nodded with a customer-service smile and walked away. I gripped Wesley’s hand and he rested his head on my shoulder. He was more afraid than he was letting on and, of course, he wouldn’t cry; he just clung to me for silent support and I wrapped my arms around him and kissed the top of his head. I tried to ease his worry, even making jokes about how cute he looked in a hospital gown, but neither of us was in the mood.
A nurse came in shortly with pills in a small plastic cup and some water. She smiled warmly and told us not to worry and then left with another hospitable smile. Then another nurse from general surgery came for Wesley and he waited patiently with a wheelchair. Wesley sat down and took my hand again.
“Don’t worry. You’re gonna be just fine,” I told him with tears on my cheeks. “I’ll be waiting for you when you get out.”
“I’m not going to prison,” Wesley said with a light smile. “But I’ll be waiting for you.”
“I love you,” I whispered, leaning down and kissing him softly on the lips.
“I love you too. And don’t worry,” he said, smiling again.
I followed Wesley and the nurse out of the room and down the hall. Then the nurse paused and he pointed to the left.
“Follow this hall all the way down and make a right. The general surgery waiting room is right there. And don’t worry, he’s in good hands,” the nurse said and smiled cordially.
Wesley held his clothes on his lap with one hand and waved to me with the other. I watched them until they turned the corner, and then the weight of reality fell on my shoulders and I felt so heavy I could barely walk.
The waiting room was empty, and I slumped down in a chair with my head in my hands. I hated that he was in so much pain and that he tried to hide it from me. I scolded myself for not making him go to the doctor sooner.
I wanted to call Mom and tell her what was going on, but I forgot my cell and I didn’t have any change. I had to call Wesley’s parents too. My stomach tightened with the thought, but they needed to know. I pulled my debit card from my wallet and found a pay phone in the main lobby. I dialed Wesley’s old phone number and took a deep
