My alarm blares through the silence signaling it's time to start the day. If I could reach it, I would throw it against a wall. Unfortunately, I have strategically placed it on the other side of the room to avoid such incidents. By the time I get up and cross the room to silence it, I refuse to allow myself the comfort of my bed again.With Moby at the gym on Tuesday mornings, I'm here alone. There's no one to ensure I don't oversleep, and while Cam loves me, she does not approve of anyone being late to work for any reason. She's a slave driver, but I love working with her almost as much as I love working at Healing Wings. Cam and Dax started the foundation after her attack. They wanted to provide a place for victims of sexual abuse to find the help they need for healing. It took them quite some time to get it up and running, but now the facility offers medical resources, mental health care, and music therapy to anyone regardless of their ability to pay. There's very few of us act
She's starting to freak me out. No, I don't feel normal, something's definitely off kilter, but I don't think it's cause for alarm. I can tell she's nervous, biting the side of her lip, but whatever's going on in that pretty little head of hers, she's not sharing. Piper's quiet for most of the ride, so I don't push. I understand my wife's fear. I get it. "Moby, when did you start feeling bad?""I've had a headache for a couple days.""Is that it? Just the headache?""I don't know. I guess. Last night I felt weird. There were a couple times I got really dizzy like I'd stood up too fast, but it passed as quickly as it came, so I didn't think much about it.""Anything else?" I hesitate-this is like the Spanish Inquisition. I know I'm about to piss her off, but she was sick. "Last night after you went to bed my hand started to tingle, kind of like it was asleep. I couldn't get it to stop."She glares at me, giving me serious stink eye, before turning back to the road. "Why
The numbers on the screen don't mean anything to Moby, but two hundred and twenty-one over one hundred and sixty, my husband is actively stroking. I have never seen it firsthand, but my mother educated me for years after watching her mother die from repeat strokes. It never dawned on me those constant reminders of visual clues would come in handy-the slurred speech, facial distortion, motor function loss-I knew but hoped I was wrong. I wish now I was oblivious to the reality we're about to face, but I'm not. I'm all too aware of just how bad this truly is. In an instant, there's a flurry of people and alarms going off on the machines tracking my husband's heart. They quickly transfer him to a bed and start an IV. With only one of us allowed to go back to the room, my dad turns to leave.I grab his arm in panic. "Daddy, will you keep trying to call Moby's parents and Cam? She doesn't know I'm going to be late, so at this point, I think it's safe to tell her I won't be in at all. Be
I heard the words Piper said, but can't really wrap my mind around the possibility of a stroke. It didn't take a genius to notice the nurse didn't correct her assumption. I can't fathom how the hell I could be having a stroke. My head is throbbing, but I'm completely lucid. I'm young, in great shape, eat a healthy diet; this only happens to grossly obese people my age, not healthy, thirty-two-year-old men. My limited knowledge of stroke symptoms, patients, and the like is zilch, but the point is it shouldn't be me. I don't smoke, and I rarely drink. I just married my wife for the love of God. What the fuck is Piper going to do with what's left of me?Lying on this bed, unable to talk to my wife, the emotions seize me, Heather steps to my side. She doesn't speak. She places her hand on my forearm while we wait for the nurse to usher us in for the CT scan. The warmth of her touch grounds me and reminds me I'm not alone. When the doors finally open, signaling our turn, she gives me a ge
Heather comes in an hour or so later to prepare Moby for his move to ICU. I ask if she heard the results from the CT scan, but the radiology department is really behind, and since Moby's blood pressure hasn't dropped much, they're going to go ahead and go. I climb off the bed and see the trepidation in my husband's eyes. "I need to go tell everyone what's going on, are you going to be okay for a bit by yourself?"He nods his response, but I can tell he doesn't want me to go."I'll be right back, I promise.""Actually, why don't you just meet us in ICU." Heather looks at the chart in her hand before turning her eyes back to me. "Seventh floor, room two."After kissing Moby's forehead, I make the long walk through the winding maze of the ER to share what little information I have with our friends and family. It breaks my heart to leave him, but it's not fair to all the people closest to us to wait without periodic updates. The truth is, it's only mid-afternoon, and I'm exhaust
The worst part about all this is the incessant waiting. Waiting for nurses, waiting for tests, waiting for lab work, waiting for results, waiting for doctors. After Moby's MRI, the new nurse, Asten, has come on shift. Sweet girl, but if she doesn't stop making googly eyes at Moby, I may have to kick her in the ovaries. Overhearing me talking to Moby about running home to get his things, primarily his glasses so he can see, she tells me I have plenty of time before a doctor will be back in."You can go home. I'll be here. We won't let anything happen to him," she winks at Moby. Bitch, I'm not playing. She better lay off the flirty shit before I take out her kneecap.Glancing up and huffing in irritation at Asten, I turn to Moby, who is somehow oblivious to her advances. "Are you okay with that?" He nods. He looks tired. His eyes are dull, not their normal vibrant blue. Dark circles are forming around them. I can't help but notice his skin has a ground mustard hue that's unflatter
My eyes flutter open. The room is dusky dark and it takes me a moment to remember where I am. The sterile smell of the hospital jogs my memory. As things come into focus, I see Piper sitting in the chair next to the bed with her laptop. Her hair's pulled up into a messy knot on top of her head, and she's changed into her crazy ass leggings and a sweatshirt and put her glasses on. The light from the computer gives her an ethereal glow. My heart swells with pride knowing she's mine.Glancing over at me, she realizes I'm awake. She closes her laptop and takes off her glasses. "How are you feeling?" she asks me."Better." Clearer speech shocks me. The doctor had said as my blood pressure comes down my speech would improve, but I wasn't expecting this much so quickly. It still sounds like I have a mouth full of food but it resembles English, which is more than it did twelve hours ago."Does your head still hurt?""Yeah, but the pressure isn't as bad. How long have I been asleep?" My
The bell sounds signaling visiting hours are over. I try to push back but Asten, the little hussy, holds firm refusing to allow me to stay with Moby overnight. "You can stay in the waiting room if you'd like but the hospital adheres to strict hours in ICU.""I'm his wife, are you serious?" I'm miffed, which I'm sure my tone conveys."Very. Goodnight, Mrs. Cooper." My eyes flutter in irritation. I swear if I have to see this little heifer much more, they may stick in the tops of their sockets."Fine," I huff at her. "Can you give me a minute, Asten?" I draw out her name indicating how pretentious I think it is."I'll be back." She turns to leave and again, my eyes search the ceiling. Irritation doesn't begin to describe what her presence does to me."Okay, I guess I need to go. I'm going to stop by the gym in the morning to tell them what's going on and see if they can reschedule your clients. I'll be back as soon as I'm done with that. Do you need anything from home?""D