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Chapter Thirty-Nine


It felt so surreal. Dr. Danielson and the residents pushed me down the hallway in the gurney. The wheels clicked over the floor tiles, and Leighanne's fingers gripped mine so tightly as she followed alongside the bed, leaning over the side rails. My mouth was dry, the world seemed hazy. A panic rose through me as I realized that this could be the last thing I see - the dry wall ceiling tiles, and those flourescent lights. They could be the last I see. I tried to recall the last I'd seen out the window in the room but I'd been too preoccupied waiting and wondering where the guys were to recall. That last moment in my room, that could've been the last time I saw my brother, my father, or my mother. And this - this right here - as Dr. Danielson stopped the gurney just before the elevator bay and turned to Leighanne with apologetic eyes - this could be the last time that I saw her, the other half of my soul.

Leighanne leaned down, pressing her lips to mine. Her hands were shaking, her eyes filled with tears. "I love you," she whispered.

A tear rolled across her cheek, fell from her jawbone, and I felt it land on my arm. I reached up and put my hand on her cheek. "You, Leighanne Wallace, have been the greatest blessing God has ever given me."

She shook her head, "Don't you say goodbye."

"I'm just saying I love you," I replied. But really, I guess I was saying good bye. A part of me felt like I needed to, just in case. In case I never saw her again, I needed her to know how much she meant to me. There was so much more to tell her, things that I couldn't wrap words around to speak. I held her hand to my face and kissed it softly before pressing her skin to my jawline. I wanted so badly to feel her close.

"Don't die," she commanded. "Whatever you do, do not die."

I nodded. "Stay away from the light. Got it."

"I'm serious Brian Littrell." Leighanne's voice was breaking as she spoke, "If you die I'll kill you."

I smiled. "I'll see you in a bit, baby," I said.

Dr. Danielson starting pushing me away, and Leighanne stayed still. Our arms extended as I was rolled away until we could stretch no further and her hand slipped from mine. She brought her hand to her mouth, covering it, tears pouring from her eyes as she stood there, watching as we boarded the elevator car.

"I love you soooo much," I said as loudly as I could muster in my Donald Duck voice just as the elevator doors closed, and I just barely caught sight of a laugh forcing a smile onto her tear-stained face before they sealed.

I closed my eyes.

"You're handling this very well," Dr. Danielson commented as the elevator moved.

When the doors dinged open on the surgical floor, they pushed me out of the elevator and down the hall. My heart beat so loudly I thought for sure it was on a loud speaker somewhere, playing for all the world to hear.

The lights flashed, alternating with ceiling tiles. Light, tile, light, tile, light, tile...

I thought of flashing stage lights, of Lou, of the fans, of my Backstreet brothers, of Leighanne, of my father, my mother... I thought about the past I'd had and the future I may lose...

Light, tile, light, tile, light, tile...

I thought of the Nerf basket ball hoop back in my room, unused. I thought of the fact that I might never shoot hoops with Nick again, that I might never see Nick again. Or Howie or AJ or Kevin. What had been my last words to them? To Nick? I tried to think of the last thing I'd said to him at Disney had been but all I could remember was this blurry haze of telling Lou off and Nick's face, looking up with this shocked half-angry expression, as I'd smacked Lou's hand away from his shoulder. I thought about what Nick's last memory of me would be if I died on the table.

Light, tile, light, tile, light, tile...

The resident at the end of the gurney opened the OR door and I saw the little plastic sign mounted on the wall. Operating Room 3. We turned into the room, and a blast of cold air assaulted my lungs, even colder than the air conditioning had been in the hallway. It was like a wall... a brick wall... and my life felt like a glass being thrown against it.

I felt myself shatter.

"Oh Lord," I gasped.

Dr. Danielson leaned to look at me. "Brian?"

Hot tears stung the corners of my eyes and I felt like the world was breaking. I'd never let myself feel the fear, feel the pain I was going through. And just like that, it shattered all over me, like broken glass. The pain of being betrayed by my manager, abandoned by my best friends, and given this stupid, horribly broken heart. "Why? Oh God, oh God... Why?" I burst into tears. Waves of emotion crashed over me, like the ocean, and I started hyperventilating, trying to breathe, grasping at the cannula they'd shoved in my nose before transporting me. "Oh my God, oh my God." I couldn't even articulate the emotion. I was scared and cold and hot and so utterly alone. "I don't wanna die," I sobbed, "I don't. I need to be okay..."

"His blood pressure's through the roof."

"Let's get him in there."

They put an oxygen mask over my mouth, lifting my head up from the pillow to slide the straps over my ears. I closed my eyes, feeling tears burning the rims of my eyelids like the tears were on fire or something. I gasped into the mask.

"It's okay, Brian," Dr. Danielson's voice was soothing. "Let's move him on three. One.. two.. three.." I felt them lift me and shift my body from the gurney they'd transported me on to a cold, hard table under a single satellite-dish of light that shone down on me harshly. "Brian, it's going to be all right."

Staring up at that lamp reminded me of that big shiny light Leighanne had told me to stay away from, and I had to fight myself to stay laying still as every muscle in my body tensed, wanting to run away.

I felt my arms being pulled out and strapped down to a cross bar that stemmed out from the table upon which I lay. I felt a pin prick on my arm as they inserted a second IV, and the smell of alcohol as they wiped a spot on my neck to insert a line - the very place Leighanne's hand had been just minutes before.

I stared up at the light, so much like a spotlight, like the one we used on stage every night at the show. I thought about my solo, about the way it felt to sit on a stool in front of thousands of fans and play the guitar under that harsh, singular light that shone out of the darkness. I thought of the fellas on stage singing All I Have To Give without me, AJ singing my lines.

My voice was soft and raspy. "What about me?" I asked, but my question was for ears that were too far away to hear it.

But nobody in the OR heard me, or at least nobody answered me if they did. They were all preparing, scrubbing in, setting up. I heard trays moving and saw large, scary machines roll past me to their positions. I glanced up and saw a gallery full of med students, peering down with notepads and snacks and curious expressions. I heard beeping and OR nurses talking and interns whispering. I heard the words Backstreet Boys being said in hushed tones.

And then Dr. Danielson was hovering, looking down at me. He had on scrubs, including a surgical mask and a cap that covered his forehead and hair. Thick glasses were on his face that he hadn't had on before and he was holding his hands up at an awkward angle, keeping them from becoming contaminated. Those hands, I thought, Are gonna be inside of me.

"Are you ready?" Dr. Danielson's eyes were kind, peering down over the surgical mask.

I looked around. Doctors everywhere. If one is going to have their chest split open and their heart taken out and repaired and poked and prodded there was not a better place to do it at than right here, surrounded by surgeons. I looked up at Dr. Danielson. "Am I going to die?" I asked him.

"I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure that does not happen," he answered.

I nodded through tears. "I'm going to wake up?" I asked.

"You have things worth waking up for, don't you?" Dr. Danielson answered. I nodded. "Sometimes," he said, "That is more than half the battle. Knowing there's something worth waking up for."

I closed my eyes, my throat swollen with emotion. And it occurred to me that maybe tears did not indicate strength. Maybe it wasn't that Batman never cried. Maybe it was just that he didn't have anything left to cry for. Maybe strength was in knowing what you had, what you wanted, and being willing to endure whatever you needed to keep it in your life.

Until you find somthing worth dying for, you are never really living.

"Brian," he said calmly, "Are you ready?"

I wanted to say no. I wasn't ready. I wasn't ready at all. I had too much living still left to do.

But if I wanted to do that living, I had to get through this first.

So I nodded.

"Okay," said Dr. Danielson through his surgical mask. He looked up and nodded and suddenly there was another doctor hovering over me and the oxygen mask was moved and a new mask was pressed onto my mouth and nose. "I need you to count for me. Can you count for me backwards from ten?"

"Ten," I mumbled.

Kentucky. Tates Creek High School. The prom. The smell of my mother's cooking. The crackling intercom, requesting my presence in the principal's office...

"Nine..."

That flight to Orlando, getting off the plane and seeing Kevin; meeting Howie, AJ, and Nick. KMart. The home department. We've Got It Going On. Seaworld. A high school gymnasium, filled with new fans.

"Eight..."

Recording studio. Big fluffy microphones. Interviews. Reporters. Paparazzi. Video cameras. Stylists and costume design and quick changes under the stage between sets.

"Seven..."

Basket ball. Tour buses. Dublin. London. France. Germany. Spain.

"Six..."

Harold. My dad. My mom. Kevin. Howie. AJ. Nick.

"Five..."

Leighanne.

I barely felt my mouth move, trying to form the four, but it wouldn't come. It was more of a breath, and I couldn't remember what came after four so I just breathed and slowly the blue blurry haze I'd been staring into disappeared altogther.