Shaun shook his head and waved a hand to dismiss the idea. “Look, when you’re out of here and we’re back to normal, then we can talk about that kind of thing. For now I don’t even want to think about A &A. I just want us to focus on getting you better.” He sat back in his seat and reopened the book he’d been reading, effectively ending the conversation whether she was finished or not.
Hurt but too tired to fight, Savannah flipped back to the Psalms, but instead of reading she closed her eyes and began to pray.
She awoke with a start, unsure of how long she’d been sleeping. The cardiologist stood at the foot of her bed. “I’m sorry to have interrupted your nap, Mrs. Trover,” he said, his deep voice soothing her. “But I wanted to talk to you about our next step.”
Savannah clutched the Bible tightly with one hand. Shaun grabbed the other. “So you know what’s wrong?” Shaun asked.
“Well, yes and no.” The doctor pulled the curtain as far to the other wall as it would go, giving them the most privacy they’d get in a shared room. He perched himself on the edge of the bed and consulted the printout he held. “Based on a lack of indicators for congenital issues, we’re guessing a virus has attacked your heart- which would make sense, given the flu you had. We just don’t know what virus, though honestly it doesn’t matter at this point. It’s the result that we’re concerned about – namely myocarditis. Heart failure, in layman’s terms. We’re going to keep you here, get you started on some medications that will hopefully help slow down the failure, monitor you for a few days to track your heart’s efficiency, and that will help us determine what the next step is. Typically we can’t do a lot for the myocarditis; we’ll treat the symptoms and give your body the rest and support it needs to heal the heart itself. To that end, we’ll keep you on the heart monitor to watch for arrhythmias, put you on a restricted diet, start you on digoxin and Lasix, and see how things go for the next week or so.”
“A week?” Savannah rubbed a hand over her eyes. “That’s so long.”
“Well, honestly, it may be longer than that. We just have to see what happens.”
Shaun sat on the edge of his seat. “So what are you looking for over this next week then? And what are the options at that point, the possibilities?”
“Well, if things go the way we hope they do, then your heart will begin to strengthen, we’ll see some improvements in energy and strength, and your heart’s efficiency will recover to where it should be. Most patients do recover from myocarditis with standard supportive treatment, and your previous health is a good indicator that you will.”
Savannah was afraid to ask what was on her mind, but more afraid of the unknown. “And if I don’t improve? What then?”
“Hopefully it won’t get to that. But depending on how things go, we may have to try some other medications, see if they slow the failure and help turn things around. A pacemaker may be necessary, if your heart’s rhythm gets out of sync. But if you continue to worsen at the pace you have so far, it’s possible you’ll need a heart transplant.”
Savannah feared her heart would stop right then. She couldn’t even bring herself to look at Shaun, knowing she’d break down. “A transplant? It could get that bad?”
“There is a possibility, yes.” He stood and hung the chart back on the foot of her bed. “But don’t dwell on that. Your chances for a full recovery are good.”
He gave them a parting smile and nod, then left them to sit with the reality of a heart so broken it might never heal.
SHAUN WOKE DISORIENTED, THE LAST of his dream still playing out in his mind as he opened his eyes to a room with too much light. He shook the disturbing images from his head and checked the clock, then groaned when he saw he’d overslept.
By the time he got downstairs for breakfast it was almost nine o’clock. He heard Jessie in her room, talking on the phone, and realized he couldn’t leave for work until he told her what was going on with Savannah. She’d already been asleep when he’d gotten home the night before, and he’d been reluctant to wake her since he wasn’t sure if she had a morning shift. Apparently she did not, which meant she was probably on the phone with Adam; that conversation could go on for hours. Shaun decided to have his breakfast and then ask her to hang up so they could talk.
“… And then we could do a sundae bar for dessert, maybe see if The Sweet Shoppe would be willing to donate – oh wait, my dad’s here, hold on a sec.” She covered the mouthpiece of her cell with her hand. “Hey, Dad, what’s up? I didn’t know you were still here.”
“I overslept this morning. Can we talk for a minute before I leave for work?”
Her face clouded. “Yeah, hold on.” She went back to her phone. “Hey, let me call you back. My dad needs me for a minute. Cool?… Okay, love you too. Bye.” She hung up and tossed the phone on the bed. “It’s about Mom, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.” He sat across from her on the bed, their knees touching over the floral bedspread as he laid out the details, starting with Savannah’s collapse. “They’ve started her on some medications that might help – in fact, they seem fairly confident that they will. But she’s going to be in the hospital for at least another week, possibly more.”
Her eyes got big. “Wow. That’s a long time.”
He huffed out a chuckle. “Yes, it is.”
“But then what?”
“Well, hopefully the medications will help take some of the pressure off her heart and let it heal. Once it does…” he shrugged. “She’ll be back to normal.”
Jessie nodded slowly. “That’s good.”
“Yeah.”
“So… anything else?”
“Well, she asked me to get her laptop to her sometime today. I was hoping you could take it to her.”
She made a face. “I don’t know if I’ll have time. Adam and I have to finish planning the freshman welcome dinner, and I’m working until five-”
“Jessie, this is your mother. She’s lonely in there.”
Jessie rolled her eyes. “Come on, Dad, we both know she’s not desperate for me to visit.”
He arched his brows in reproach. “You’re her daughter. Of course she wants to see you.”
She sighed, slumping back against the pillows. “Come on, Dad. You know we don’t get along.”
“I know – and that’s why I think you ought to go in and see her. How often do you two spend time alone together? Your relationship will never improve if you’re never together.”
“But, Dad, hanging out with someone and hanging out in the ICU are completely different. Seriously, it’s just going to feel forced. She’ll know it, and I’ll know it, and it’ll be totally uncomfortable.”
He remembered yesterday afternoon, when Savannah had gone off about them not being spiritual enough lately. Maybe with that personal awakening her eyes would be opened to how distant she was from her own daughter. “She may be a little… easier to relate to.” He put up his hands in surrender. “Look, you’re an adult; you can make your own decisions. Just bring her the laptop and leave if you want to.”
“Oh, right, that would be really nice.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re telling me everything, right? They didn’t give her only a month to live or anything?”
“Well, no. They think it’s serious, but they seem to think they’ll be able to get it under control.”
“But what if they can’t?”
He hadn’t wanted to get into the what if’s. He let out a long breath. “If they can’t, she might need a heart transplant.”