Nick put on his best poker face before he replied, “Fine.” This couldn’t have been further from the truth, but by lying, he hoped to avoid having to answer any additional questions. He felt awkward around Rob, worried he would accidentally reveal Dani’s secret. If his face didn’t give it away, he was afraid his vital signs would. He could feel his heart hammering against his rib cage as Rob rested the round end of the stethoscope on his chest. Even if the doctor didn’t realize how hard it was pounding, he would surely hear it racing and wonder why it was pumping so fast while Nick was just lying in bed.
Sure enough, Rob frowned as he listened, his eyes fixed on the heart monitor over Nick’s head. It might as well have been a lie detector; Nick was pretty sure a polygraph machine measured many of the same things as his hospital monitor. “Any chest pain or palpitations this morning?” Rob asked, as he moved the stethoscope around to auscultate from a different angle.
“No.”
“How ‘bout shortness of breath?”
Nick shook his head. He was starting to feel hot and clammy.
“Go ahead and breathe normally,” Rob encouraged him, and Nick realized he had been holding his breath. He let it out in a rush, the air rattling through his lungs. “You sure you’re not short of breath at all?” Rob persisted. “I’m hearing signs of some fluid build-up in your lungs, which is fairly common with congestive heart failure.”
“Yeah, maybe a little bit,” Nick admitted, taking advantage of the excuse Rob had given him. If fluid in his lungs would explain why his heart was racing for no other apparent reason, he would go with it.
“How long has that been going on?”
Before Nick could answer, Dani came back into the room. Her eyes widened when she saw her husband standing at Nick’s bedside, but by the time he turned toward her, she had recovered and composed herself.
“Where have you been?” Rob asked her, his tone almost accusatory.
“Bathroom,” Dani replied casually, frowning at him. “Why?”
“Your patient here has pulmonary edema. His heart rate, resps, and B.P. are all elevated, and I heard rales at the base of both lungs. Plus, he’s diaphoretic. Didn’t you notice any of this before your little bathroom break?”
“No, because I was busy bathing Brian before my little bathroom break,” Dani snapped back, her dark eyes flashing dangerously. “Where the hell were you?”
Nick’s eyes darted nervously between the two of them. He had never seen them bicker like this before. Clearly, the stress of the situation was getting to them, too.
“Never mind,” said Rob, rolling his eyes. “Get me a CBC, lytes, BUN, creatinine, and an ABG, and then start him on a nitro drip.” Turning back to Nick, he said, “Dani’s gonna draw some blood so we can check your levels before we make any adjustments to your meds. Hopefully a higher dose of the diuretic will do the trick and help you get rid of that extra fluid your body’s hanging onto. In the meantime, I’m gonna put you back on the mask so you can breathe better.”
For once, Nick wasn’t bothered by the oxygen mask. It was a relief to have half his face hidden and not feel obligated to talk much. He lay back and took deep breaths while Dani drew blood from both the central venous catheter in his neck and the arterial line in his wrist. “Sorry about all this,” she whispered to him while Rob was on the other side of the room, checking on Brian. “Are you doing all right?”
Nick shrugged. “I don’t even know anymore.” He felt betrayed by his own body, for not even he could tell if there was really fluid accumulating in his lungs, or if Rob had simply mistaken the symptoms of his anxiety for something more serious.
Dani flashed him a sympathetic smile. “Hang in there,” she said, patting his hand as she finished collecting her samples.
He forced a smile back at her. “You too.”
While Dani took his blood samples to the lab, Nick turned his attention back to Rob, who was busy examining Brian. “Any change?” he asked, lifting the oxygen mask off his face to let his voice carry across the room.
Shining his penlight into one of Brian’s eyes, Rob shook his head. “Doesn’t look like it.” He lowered Brian’s eyelid and lifted the other one, moving his light slowly back and forth as he looked closely at Brian’s face. “His pupils still respond to light, but that’s the only positive sign I’ve seen so far. His eyes aren’t focusing or following anything, and he’s not moving any other part of his body either.”
Nick swallowed hard. He felt sick to his stomach, afraid of what Rob would say next.
“Look, man, I’m just gonna lay it out there,” Rob continued. “He’s been like this for two weeks now. Comas rarely last longer than four. It’s possible that he’ll progress to what we call a ‘persistent vegetative state’ sometime in the next couple of weeks, but at this point, we need to prepare ourselves for the likelihood that his condition won’t improve. In that case, it’s important to consider Brian’s wishes. What would he want, if there was little to no chance of him ever waking up or making a meaningful recovery?”
Nick’s chest felt tight. His heart was hammering again, and it was hard to breathe. He struggled to take a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before his heart raced out of control. The last thing he needed was another jolt from his defibrillator. What would Brian want? he wondered. In the twenty-six years they had known each other, he couldn’t remember ever having a serious conversation about such topics as life support or last wishes. Brian didn’t like to talk about the tough stuff, and neither did Nick.
“You don’t have to answer that question right now,” added Rob, offering a reassuring smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s just something you should be thinking about. Now put that mask back on and leave it there.”
Grudgingly, Nick replaced the oxygen mask over his mouth and nose and took another deep breath, but it didn’t do anything to ease his anxiety or relieve the tightness in his chest. As if Dani dropping the baby bombshell on him wasn’t bad enough, now he had something much worse to worry about. Nick didn’t think he could take any more bad news or make the kind of difficult decisions Dani and Rob were asking him to.
Lifting the mask once more, he made a desperate plea. “Please, Brian… please get better,” he begged, his eyes boring into the lifeless-looking body lying in the next bed. “Please don’t put me in that position. Don’t make me decide.” He stared determinedly at his best friend, praying for some sort of positive sign - a blink, a twitch, anything. But still, nothing happened.
Disappointed, Nick pulled the mask back down over his mouth and rolled over in bed, putting his back to Brian. He didn’t want Rob to see the hot tears that had risen in his eyes.
***
Brian was five years old the last time he had been hospitalized for longer than two weeks. It had been two months that time, two months spent tethered to an IV, his tiny body being flooded by a steady stream of strong antibiotics meant to fight the staph infection that had invaded his heart, almost killing him. He still had vivid memories of being strapped to his hospital bed, sobbing as a nurse pounded on his chest to try to break up the infection. Yet not even that experience had been as torturous as this one.
At least that time, he had been able to open his eyes, talk, and move around. Plus, he’d had plenty of people there to keep him company and help pass the time. His mother had never left his side, spending night after night sleeping on a cot next to his hospital bed. His father and brother had visited every day, bringing him Star Wars toys to play with and promising to get him a brand new bicycle as soon as he got better. His grandparents, aunts and uncles, and nurses had gathered around his bed with the rest of his family to pray for his recovery, even as the doctors were telling his parents to prepare for the worst. Brian’s prognosis wasn’t any better now, and he had no one there to pray for him but Nick. And Nick seemed to be losing faith.
“Any change?” he asked, as Rob was examining Brian. His voice had taken on a despondent tone, much different from the hopeful one Brian was used to hearing. Was Nick merely depressed from spending his days moping in a hospital bed, Brian wondered, or had he given up on the possibility of Brian ever waking up?
“Doesn’t look like it,” replied Rob, as he shone a light into Brian’s eyes. Brian wanted to squint, but he couldn’t do anything but stare straight ahead. He could barely make out Rob’s features behind the blinding beam of bright light, and before his eyes had time to adjust, Rob had closed them again. “His pupils still respond to light,” he continued, “but that’s the only positive sign I’ve seen so far. His eyes aren’t focusing or following anything, and he’s not moving any other part of his body either.”
But I can hear everything! thought Brian, feeling both frustrated and defensive. I know more about what’s been going on around here than you do, buddy. He thought about the conversation he’d overheard before Rob came in - the one between Nick and his nurse, Dani.
Brian had picked up on a flirtatious tone to their previous interactions, but he had always assumed they were just playing around, living by the adage that laughter is the best medicine. From what he’d figured out, Dani was in a relationship with Dr. Rob, and while Nick had been known to flirt with fans for the fun of it, Brian had no doubt that he loved Lauren. Nick would never be unfaithful, Brian had thought… until he’d found out otherwise.
Brian’s first reaction to Dani’s big news had been disappointment. Oh Nick… what have you done now? he wanted to say, his heart sinking. Why would this woman think she’s pregnant with your baby?
It wasn’t a hard question to answer, yet it made no sense to him. Nick had a lot of flaws, but infidelity had never been one of them. He was almost loyal to a fault, always finding his way back to the family that had used and abused him, staying in toxic relationships long past their expiration date. That was why Brian had been so happy to see him fall for a woman who actually seemed to be good for him. He and Lauren were in it for the long haul, he’d thought. Why would Nick cheat on her now, when she was still hurting from the loss of their daughter?
Maybe he was hurting, too. Maybe this was his way of distracting himself from the pain. He had seen Nick turn to drugs and alcohol to deal with disappointment in the past. Apparently he’d added sex with strangers to his list of vices.
But where the hell did they hook up? Brian couldn’t help but wonder. The hospital?? If he could have laughed, he would have done so then. Leave it to Nick Carter to get laid in a hospital bed by the hot nurse who had been taking care of him. Not many other guys could get away with that.
But then, he hadn’t really gotten away with it, had he? If Dani was indeed carrying his child, it was only a matter of time before their indiscretion was discovered. And then what? Did Nick realize the ramifications of what he’d done? It would ruin his marriage and destroy the reputation he had tried so hard to rebuild... unless they decided to get rid of the problem.
Please don’t encourage her to have an abortion, Brian silently begged Nick. He knew it was none of his business, but the murder of an unborn baby went against everything he believed. He prayed Nick would do right by Dani and help her make the moral decision. Their baby didn’t have to die just because they’d made a mistake. If only he could talk to Nick, give him some guidance, and reassure him that everything would be all right.
But would it? Brian had heard the doctors and nurses talking; he knew Nick’s health was getting worse. Nick was tired all the time, he had no appetite because he always felt nauseous, and he’d been unable to get out of bed without his heartbeat becoming irregular. Now his lungs were filling with fluid, making it harder for him to breathe. These were textbook signs of congestive heart failure. Brian was all too familiar with the symptoms, having been asked about them at every appointment with his cardiologist before and after his heart surgery. He had been lucky: his own heart condition had been easily corrected. But it was becoming clear that Nick’s heart wasn’t going to get any better. It would continue to grow weaker until it gave out and simply stopped beating. Without a new heart, Nick would die before his baby was born.
But that’s not what’s gonna happen, Brian told himself firmly. Nick’s not going down without a fight. They’ll get him to a hospital that will find him a heart, and he’ll be fine. We’ll both be fine.
Dr. Rob didn’t sound as optimistic. “He’s been like this for two weeks now,” he was telling Nick. “Comas rarely last longer than four. It’s possible that he’ll progress to what we call a ‘persistent vegetative state’ sometime in the next couple of weeks, but at this point, we need to prepare ourselves for the likelihood that his condition won’t improve.”
Brian’s heart began to pound. I’m not a vegetable! he wanted to shout. Can a carrot form coherent thoughts? Can it comprehend language? I can understand everything you’re saying; I just can’t communicate back!
“In that case, it’s important to consider Brian’s wishes,” Rob continued. “What would he want, if there was little to no chance of him ever waking up or making a meaningful recovery?”
With a sinking feeling, Brian realized he was talking about turning off the life support machines. As much as he hated his new tracheostomy, he was totally dependent on the ventilator. Without it, he would stop breathing and die in a matter of minutes. He didn’t want to die… did he?
“You don’t have to answer that question right now,” Rob said when Nick didn’t respond. “It’s just something you should be thinking about. Now put that mask back on and leave it there.”
As Rob returned to his examination, Brian thought about what he had said. He and Leighanne had talked about their final wishes the last time they’d updated their wills, not long after Baylee was born. They had both agreed that they didn’t want to be kept alive by machines if there was no hope of them getting better. But Brian had never imagined he would end up like this, with a brain that was fully conscious locked inside a body that was completely paralyzed. What kind of life would he have if he remained that way - bedridden or wheelchair-bound, breathing and being fed through tubes, totally reliant on other people to bathe him, change him, and take care of him, yet unable to communicate with his caregivers or loved ones? Could that even be considered living, or was it merely existing? Was such an existence even worth it? Brian didn’t know - not that anyone had bothered to ask him.
“Please, Brian… please get better,” he heard Nick plead, his voice breaking. “Please don’t put me in that position. Don’t make me decide.”
Believe me, Nick, I’m trying! Brian wanted to call back to him. It terrified him to think of leaving his life in Nick’s hands. But there was nothing he could do about it now. A new heart could help Nick, but Brian would need a whole body transplant.
He felt a little like the main character of an old, black-and-white horror movie he’d once watched with Nick called The Brain That Wouldn’t Die. In the film, a mad doctor had tried to find a new body for the head of his wife, who’d been decapitated in a horrible car crash. The bodiless woman had begged her husband to let her die, but Brian didn’t wish for death, nor did he desire a different body. He just wanted his old body back.
Wake up! he wanted to scream as he fought to regain some function. He tried blinking his eyes… flexing his fingers… wiggling his toes. But in spite of his best efforts, he still couldn’t move a muscle. His eyes remained closed, his limbs frozen, his lungs fully dependent upon a machine to inflate them. As the ventilator forced air through the trach tube protruding from the front of his neck, he could feel his chest rise and fall involuntarily. Inside it, his heart beat on, pumping freshly-oxygenated blood to all the other parts of his paralyzed body. It seemed to be the only muscle that was able to move on its own.
Ironically, the part of Brian’s body that was still functioning was precisely what was failing for Nick, whose need for a new heart seemed more desperate with each passing day.
***
