FORCE | topper thornton

THIRTY TWO

I thanked the nurse at the desk in front of the ICU, rushing down the halls to my dads room, they didn't want more people going back than they had to, so Topper stayed in the waiting room. "Oh, daddy." I cried, physically flinching at the sight of him like this, all sorts of wires and tubes, "McKenzie?" I heard a familiar voice, turning to see the woman, Cheryl, I talked to on the phone. "Yes, please tell me what's going on?" I rushed, forcing my eyes off of my dads sickly figure. "He was having a hard time breathing after the fall, the doctors said the best thing to do was put him on the ventilator, for his lungs to rest, but honey, he's too far gone. If you want to try removing the ventilator, there's a strong chance he would hardly wake up, and if he did it would only be for a few minutes." I knew what she was saying, I nodded slowly, silently letting the tears slip down my face. She placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, "I was with him last night, before they put him under, he kept telling me about you and your fiancé." She smiled, my eyebrows shot up, "I don't have a fiancé." I tilted my head, "oh, my bad, I thought that's what he said, but where is Topper?" She soothingly asked, knowing I shouldn't be alone, "he's in the waiting room." I whispered, "I'll go get him." She rushed off, leaving me to stare at the shell of what my father once was. He had a bruise on his cheek, from the fall I'm guessing, my mind raced, why didn't he tell me? I should've known, I could've helped him, gotten him to the best doctors. Deep down I knew that the cancer was too far in for treatment, and that he might've even been relieved in a way, he won't be missing my mom anymore. But I'll be left here to miss all of my family.

"Hey, shhh, baby it's alright." Topper came up behind me, pulling my hair back over my shoulders as it draped over my face as I leaned beside my dad, kissing his bruised cheek, I turned to Topper, crying in his chest as I let the news sink in. "He's gonna die Topper." I whispered into his shirt, feeling his arms tighten around me, he didn't speak, only shushed me.

It's been two hours since that moment, I begged Topper not to miss work, he just got this job, he can't risk it. He didn't want to leave me, but I repeatedly assured him I'd be fine, I'll sit here with my dad and do some editing for work. Finally after much persuasion, he agreed but swore he'd be back here as soon as he got off. I was mindlessly doing my work, glancing over at my dad every once in a while, I knew what I had to do, I just had to decide when, tell me, how is someone supposed to decide when their last living parent will die. It's gut wrenching, heartbreaking and everything in between. I looked up when there was a knock on the door, the new nurse, Jackie, I had learned her name was, entered the room, giving me a soft smile as she changed out an IV bag. "You know, it sounds silly but you can talk to him, I think they can still hear you when they're in this state." She spoke gently, not wanting to offend me, I nodded, "thanks." My voice was hoarse, from having to tell the story over just to Kie, she assured me she would fill everyone else in. I chewed my lip anxiously, debating on if I should speak to him, eventually I decided to do it, even if it was only for my benefit. I shut my laptop off, moving it aside, I slid my chair closer to his bedside, grabbing his hand in mine. "Hey daddy, it's Kenzie. I-uh-I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm going to talk anyways." I took a shaky breath, "I want you to know that I love you so much, and I understand why you didn't tell me, you didn't want me to suffer anymore than I had too. Um, Topper was here earlier, he's hoping for the best, and so am I even though I know that won't happen." I cried, covering my mouth to muffle my sobs, "daddy I don't want to let you go." I whispered, squeezing his hand tightly, of course there was no response. I sat back in the chair, letting myself cry and stare at him. My heart has never been so shattered, I couldn't keep myself from whisper shouting to the ceiling, "why me?! Why did all of this happen to me? What did I do to deserve this!?" I slammed my hands down against my thighs, hissing as the burning sensation sunk in, damn it. All I could let fall from my lips was a string of curse words, "may I come in?" I heard an unfamiliar voice from the doorway. "Uh yes." I spoke, clearing my throat, I rubbed the tears from my eyes. "Hello, I'm Dr. Evans." He greeted, holding a hand out to shake, "McKenzie." I smiled softly, not wanting to be rude, despite the annoyance in my eyes.

"I know that you've been filled in on your dad's condition, but I wanted to come by and answer any questions you have." He explained, glancing between my father and I, "will he hurt, when we take him off the ventilator?" It was my most important question, I had to know if he would suffer, "if he began to feel any discomfort, we would give him morphine and he would pass peacefully." Those words made my stomach jump, but it was a good answer, I'm glad to know he would be comfortable. It's weird, it's like I had a sixth sense about this, when I thought about my future, let's say, five years from now, I always had a hard time picturing my dad being there, I never thought to much of it, but now it hurt. We went on to discuss any other thing that popped into my head, until eventually I was out of questions and tears, the doctor walking out just as Topper started walking down the hall. "Hey, baby." Topper sighed, coming over and pressing a quick kiss to my lips, he grabbed my dads hand for a moment, silently telling him he was here, my heart wanted to mend itself but break all at the same time. "Did he tell you? Is that why you freaked out on thanksgiving when I walked in?" I asked referring to his moment of panic when I walked into the living room last night. "What? No, of course not, I would never keep that from you." He assured me, taking a seat beside me, "he would never expect me too either." He added, squeezing my knee reassuringly, I nodded, going back to chewing on my thumb, the sight making Topper anxious. "Sunday." I spoke, breaking the deafening silence, "what?" Topper looked away from his phone, absentmindedly scrolling through it. "Sunday, we'll both be here, that's when I want to-god I can't say it, even using the words 'want to' makes me sick." I grimaced, "that's when I prefer to take him off." I corrected myself, meeting Topper's concerned eyes, "are you sure? I don't want you to feel like you have to rush." He put his phone back in his pocket, giving me his undivided attention.

"I know there's no rush, but I'm making him suffer for no reason, Topper. He's not living, he's bed ridden and we both know that's not something he'd want if he could speak right now." I told him with confidence, it hurt, but it's true, my dad would never want to stay alive if it meant he was unconsciously hooked up to a machine. "Okay, you're right."

***

Sunday had came and gone, we were shockingly graced by having him for a few hours, he spoke his final wishes, telling Topper and I how much he loved us both, we all cried, it was hard. It's still hard.