The Great Escape: Hope

The anti-nausea medicine seemed to work its magic. I felt so much better than the last day or so. I was able to keep down more than just liquids, and the occasional bits of food. Kevin arrived later in the afternoon with a bag, and I changed into something more comfortable: a red shirt and jeans.

I was tolerating all the fluids; my fever had finally broken during the night. For lunch I was able to keep down some broth and applesauce, and because I had been vomiting and hadn’t eaten a whole lot of food for the past couple days, I was still feeling slightly weak as I got up and dug through the bag on the floor.

Looking up from his phone after stepping out momentarily, he inquired. “What are you looking for?”

“My phone. I asked you to pack it so I could cancel that doctor’s appointment.”

Another click of his phone, it was back in his pocket. “I didn’t pack your phone, because it’s already cancelled.”

“Did they call? Or did you cancel it?”

“I cancelled it on my way here.” He paused as he sat down. “You are going to make another appointment later on?”

“Of course.” Rubbing at the back of my neck, I could feel the knot from sleeping in a hospital bed. Even just thinking about it, made me long for my own bed. “I just need to get feeling better first.”  The excuse felt lame to my own ears as I stood and walked back over to the bed.

“Did you never think that I would find out about the drugs? If you didn’t take them, where did they go?” His voice was meant to sound demanding, but concern for the answers seemed more important at the moment.

I gave an absent shrug. “After the banquet, you called and I threw them down the sink.”

“So that whole excuse that Denise told me?”

I paused, gathering what I was going to say next as I sat down on the bed. “I had too much to drink that night and I was anxious about everything working out, so I took some pills with some wine—” Kevin immediately groaned in response. ”I went home and threw the pills down the drain after you called. We were fighting right before the banquet, and I didn’t know what else I could do.”

“You could have talked to me.”

“You don’t listen!” Somewhere inside, I knew that if I had still been hooked up to a heart monitor, it would have been beeping wildly at the choice words we were throwing out at each other. The room was tense but quiet as a knock on the door was heard.

It was the nurse who had been taking care of me while on shift. Her brown hair waved slightly as she closed the door behind her. “I was just checking to see how everything was in here.”

“We’re fine.”

She didn’t look like she believed it, but quickly looked over my chart. “Since you’ve improved significantly over the night, Dr, Landry wanted to come in and discuss discharging you.”

“When will she be down?”

“She’s making her rounds with some of her other patients, but I would assume within the hour. If everything goes smoothly, I’d say you could be out of her within a couple of hours.”

“And the IV?”

“We’ll take that out for you right before you’re discharged.” Looking up at the clock, the nurse checked over the chart and then closed it again.

“Thanks.”

“I’ll be back to check up on you in a little while, and when Dr. Landry comes in as well. It just depends on how quickly she can get down here.” With that final note, they were left alone. Either the nurse was very busy, or felt very uncomfortable being in the same room as us, but there was still a tension lingering in the air because our sudden argument.

Kevin ran his hands over his face, and I hoped that he was finished with work for the day—even though he probably wasn’t. He would probably be spending all week just trying to catch up for taking time off, because of me. Suddenly I felt so guilty.

“Do you have to go back to work?”

He retracted a breath, and I felt my stomach flutter in anticipation. “No, I’m finished for today, but I might go in early tomorrow.” I felt a rush of relief that he wasn’t leaving, but I could see how much it tormented him. The question on his mind was, should I go to work, or stay with my wife? His words were on the tip of his tongue, even though his mind was already made up.

After that, we didn’t talk much. Kevin helped me pack what belongings I had brought along, and we waited until Dr. Landry discharged me. I hardly noticed the garbage can that I had lost my breakfast over, until he was holding me steady as I got into the car.

“Thanks.”

“I hope you get feeling better, Jackie.” The nurse waved, then turned and walked back into the hospital. “Call if you need anything.” Kevin closed the door, giving a slight wave as he hopped into the driver’s seat.

We weren’t even to the first light, before he was glancing over at me. “Look, Jackie—I know I work a lot, and it hasn’t been easy on you, but I can’t read minds. So if you have something to say, then say it.”

“You don’t listen.” I continued from our earlier conversation. “I could never ask you to stop working so much. I’m proud of what you do—but our marriage has never been first priority. You never asked how it felt to battle with our children, or sit at the table alone. Sometimes I feel like the only thing that matters, is the army.”

I thought for certain that we were going to have another argument, as I watched Kevin tense up; his fingers drumming on the steering wheel. Instead, I was met with silence, until we got halfway home.  Not daring to speak, I occupied myself with all the things I had to do this week. When I ran out of ideas, I proceeded to stare out the window.

“You’re right. I never asked how it felt. Sometimes I feel like you know our kids better than I do.”   

“They knew why you were gone, Kevin.”

“You know the only way I could get through deployment was thinking of you every night? Thinking about our kids—what they were up to. If I would see them graduate college, or walk with Sophie at her wedding.” Watching the road with cautious hope, we stopped at a red light. I began noticing the streets were becoming more familiar, the closer we got to home.