The Monster (My Best Friend Eminem, My Husband Marshall Mathers)

Chapter forty-six

Chapter forty-six

               My body completely shut down as I anxiously walked back and forth. I bit my nails to the core practically and I made a few trips to the bathroom gagging. It was just me in the waiting room. The children were home sleeping, only Laney knowing what’s going on. A few people were in the waiting room with me, reading magazines and or watching the TV. They sat calmly, patiently waiting of news from their loved ones. How many times has Marshall slipped through me? How many times has he cheated death with and without me?

               “Mrs. Mathers…” The doctor came.

Yes?” I jumped from my seat, squeezing my hat in my fingers, crushing it.

“Your husband is doing just fine…” he said. I smiled and sighed, feeling a weight lifting from me.

“I do suggest finding him some help…” he said sternly. I looked at him, he clasp his hands in front of him, giving me a disappointing look.

I didn’t understand the look or the comment, “Doctor, he is, I mean he is having a rough time…he is not on anything” I said.

“Oh, I believe you…” he said opening the folder, “There is not a trace of drugs in his system…” “I tell you right now…he is one tough son of a bitch!”

               I waited another two hours in the waiting room for him to be transported out of the intensive care unit. By now, my adreline is my coffee that keeps me away and jittery. I begged and pleaded at times to let me in. There were times where I tried to sneak in. The nurses told me I would not like what I will see back there and it’s not a good idea.

“Well, I tell you what I grew up in New Jersey and whatever is back there I’m sure it is minor…” I said.

“I’m sorry ma’am but you can’t go back there…please” the nurse strenuously said.

“If it’s that bad back there then get my husband out of there already…” I strenuously said back. The nurse glared at me, “Please…”

She sighed, “I’ll see what I can do…”

               Within a few minutes Marshall was moved out of there. I meet him up on the third floor, walking into the room to find the same nurse from the first floor. I felt guilty now, that I gave her a hard time. She asked Marshall if he was ok, and turned to me, glaring at me she turned to Marshall,

“You got one hell of a wife…no wife is ever so committed to her husband…” I smiled to myself. Marshall faintly smiled at the nurse as she walked out.

               I stood at the edge of the bed, feeling shaky suddenly as if I was ready to crawl out of my skin.

“First you, now me…” he said, referring to our visits to the hospital, he chuckled. I smiled lowering my head. I was afraid to see Marshall in the hospital.

“Talia” he said. I picked my head up. “Please don’t be afraid…” his voice was hoarse, groggy. He laid in the bed, in the white night gown, covered by blankets. His right hand had tape on it holding in a little needle. I remember having that when Ronnie was born.

               “I’m not scared…” I mumbled. Marshall held out his hand, as I held out mine, taking his into mine. I moved my quivering feet two steps forward, suddenly sitting on the edge of the bed. It deeply scared me to see Marshall like this. I’m always used to seeing Marshall triumph through the most difficult times. That again that is the act he would put on, behind curtains he struggled.

               I sat there holding his hand as he dazed in and out of sleep for a couple of minutes. “Could you probably ask them to take this out of my hand, it’s making me sleep and feel sick…” said Marshall. Just in time a nurse came in as I asked her to remove it. The nurse told us that are one of the side effects of the medication and it will wear off soon. Until then Marshall kept a trash can at his side in case he gets sick.

               My heart jumped at times when Marshall groaned feeling as if any moment he was going to be sick. His face was pale and his lips were dry and white. As I applied Chap Stick to Marshall’s lips, I could see the fear and tenderness through his eyes. “Don’t be afraid, honey it will all be over soon…” I said softly. Marshall groaned.

“You are so strong…” I whimpered.

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               After a series of anxiety attacks throughout the night and no sleep, I had the choice to give Marshall the help he needs right away or continue him fighting a battle alone. He can’t suffer like this much more. After discussing with the doctor, I had to discuss it with Marshall. We can get him to a clinic by tomorrow.

               I slowly went into the room, clutching my sweaty hands together. “Marshall…” I said. He opened his eyes slightly,

“How you feeling?” “Like crap…” I sat on the bed, wiping the sweat from his face.

“Honey…you can’t go on like this until next week, tomorrow…we are going to the clinic…” I said.

Marshall’s eyes widen, and he rose from the bed slightly. “Honey, you can’t go on like this…” I said, whimpering.

“No…what about the kids? I won’t be able to say good bye to them…” he panic.

“Honey, honey…tomorrow we will go home…explain to the kids and we will take it from there” I said trying to make sense of everything.

               Marshall’s eyes wilted with tears. The thought of being away from them suddenly crashed down on him. The fear, anger and heartbreak came to both of us. I wiped my eyes, knowing my husband won’t be home for a while.

“No crying…” I said, pursing my lips together. Marshall sat up from the bed and hugged me, gripping me in fear. I put my head into his shoulders, quietly crying to myself.  

               It is times like these where I wish I was still a kid. My problems seemed easy to control. All I had to do was go to a secluded place, put my headphones on, and listen to Marshall, comfort me. Now Marshall is the one in need of comfort, and putting on headphones will not solve it. At the moment I wish, Marshall had it different. I’m sure he wished that constantly. If he didn’t have it so rough, he would not end up in this mess. Yet again, he would not be the person that thousands of people love and worship because of his struggles.

               Leaning over kissing my sleeping husband, softly, I realized I was thinking stupidly. Without pain or suffering, we will not learn anything. Without the pain or suffering, we would never be pushed against our limits to prove we are worthy of life and we can put up the fight. And without failure we will never learn how to be successful and never become stronger.