A relentless noise in the darkness of Jack’s hospital room startles me from my thoughts till I eventually realise the anguished sobbing noises are coming from me, somewhere deep inside of me. Quickly followed by the sobbing turned to a kind of hysterical laughter, I could not control it, I had no idea what the fuck was so funny about this but I just couldn’t stop.
Maybe it was the absurd recollection of the Surgeon advising me that “what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger” earlier, because that quite frankly is the worst lie I’d ever heard.
My poor husband, not only had God seen fit to take the use of his body away from him, now he was attacking the only part of Jack that remained, his mind. A stroke. A fucking stroke. I stopped laughing abruptly my body filling with rage.
I was so angry for him, I wanted to smash the fucking room up and then take on the whole fucking hospital. I don’t think there was enough stuff to break in this world to make me feel less angry with the hand that had been dealt to us already, let alone this even shittier new complication.
Nobody had been able to tell me to what extent Jack’s brain might have been damaged or how much of my husband would remain after surgery to remove a large blood clot. I was no surgeon but as a Doctor, former Doctor anyway, the endless horror sceneries I’d been taught in these situations raced through my mind. I was just glad that Greta had caught on early enough to know what was happening and sought immediate medical attention. I knew that the time factor was important in how much of Jack came back from this and it mattered because his mind and his memories were all he had. This world had been so cruel to us both. My scar hurt and I rubbed at it roughly trying to take the pain away in my chest but it wouldn’t ease up at all, so I picked at the part of it that poked out of the top of my dress instead, picked at it till my fingers felt wet and sticky with the blood I’d drawn on purpose.
I felt no relief though, For the first time in a long while I felt overwhelming guilt at having been with Marshall while Jack was taken ill. I could feel it festering and working it’s fucking way around my body, twisting through my veins. I was the worst kind of human being because with all my heart I wished he was here with me, just a silent presence beside me, holding me upright while I waited. I’d made Jayne go home earlier, grateful as always at her continued love and never ending support, but I’d wanted to be alone then, to wallow in this state of anger and fear for the man I loved and had married. It was too soon to lose him and whilst I’d always known the possibility of us growing old together was never really likely, this was just to god damned soon, it wasn’t fair.
My phone glowed in the dark once more signalling another missed call from the other man I’d fallen for, guilt stopped me from taking his calls and knowing he’d come if I asked. Come and comfort me while I sat crying over my husband. I wasn’t going to though. Jack came first, before me and certainly before Marshall. I fought internally with the idea of calling Jack’s parents in Australia, I tried to think of the last time they’d called us. Called me to check on their only child, selfish fucks. They should know, whether they would do anything about seeing him was then their choice. I tried to work out the time in Australia to call them before stopping giving any fucks if I woke them up.
I called them gave them the facts or what I’d been told up till that point, Jack’s mom sobbed down the phone, asking why she had to go through this, just making me become even angrier and when his Dad said he would have to check the prices of flights before considering coming to see Jack, I got even angrier and hung up on them before I could say something I’d truly regret, or would I truly regret it? I was half tempted to call back and unload all of the desperate anger I felt about this onto them.
Instead I curled up in a chair beside Jack’s empty bed and waited for him to come back, I must have fallen asleep, I know it wasn’t a restful sleep because I ached all over, I’d picked at my already broken scar and there was blood down the front of my dress and on my hands again. It was also dawn by the looks of the light filtering into the room. The door opened and I jumped up out of my sleep glancing past the Surgeon hopefully to see Jack, hoping they were bringing him back to this room but he wasn’t there.
“Jasmin, I came to give you an update!” she speaks quietly and slowly her voice is somewhat comforting as my heart pounds in my chest waiting for whatever dreadful news is about to come.
“Jack’s out of surgery, we removed the clot entirely and fitted a shunt to try and keep the blood vessels clear, it went really well” She sounds remarkably upbeat and I let out the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding in, tears splashing down my cheeks with relief. “Where is he?” I choke out.
“He’s in intensive care, we aren’t removing the sedation for at least forty eight hours, I’ll get someone to take you to see him and then I’d like you to go home and take care of yourself. He’ll need you to be fit and healthy for whatever lies ahead ok” the Surgeon states firmly. I’m not keen on that idea at all but she is spot on, I will need to be fit and healthy for the days ahead. I spend the next couple of hours with Jack, talking to him quietly and holding his hand. He feels warm and alive which cheers me up a little. When the surgeon pops in to check Jack over she threatens to have me removed from the hospital by force and now the adrenaline has stopped rushing around my body, suddenly I’m feeling dog tired and so I relent and leave my husbands side, promising him I’ll be back soon.
I feel like walking home, getting some fresh air in my lungs and I do for a bit in a little dream world till I stop and turn, sighing as I pull open the door of the truck that has been following and that has now stopped beside me. “Marshall, why are you following me? I can’t be around you right now?” I don’t give him a chance to even get a breath out before slamming the door and carrying on with my walk, ten minutes later I look up and recognize nothing, where the fuck am I? He’s still following me and suddenly I just want to go to sleep, my body weighs a ton and I sink to my knees on the cold, hard sidewalk. I’m picked up gently seconds later and he places me neatly on the backseat of his truck, covering me with a blanket that was on the seat, I close my eyes and surrender knowing Marshall will take me somewhere safe and warm to sleep. Waking up in his arms briefly as he carries me again through my house and places me on my bed.
He removes my shoes and my feet immediately stop throbbing, free from my too tight sneakers, he pulls my dress up over my head causing me to yelp when the material dried with my own blood and stuck to my scar rips away. Marshall stops and stands holding my dress until he suddenly clocks the mess I’ve made of my chest “Baby!” he whispers, I turn away, not wanting to see that look of concern on his handsome face, I don’t deserve it.
Marshall leaves the room returning with a bowl of liquid and a cloth, he maneuvers me onto my back and dabs carefully at my scar “You shouldn’t be here, it’s his home” I spit out cruelly, turning my face away from him. “I’m here as a friend Jasmin, nothing else. Let me take care of you for once” Marshall is a good man and I hate myself because I’m comforted by him being here and I don’t want him to leave, yet I do want him to leave. I start crying silently, a few stray sniffles alert him to the fact and he stops dabbing at my chest, pulling me up the bed and pulling one of Jack’s old t shirts over my body. “Go to sleep, I’ll wake you if there’s any news okay?” I nod gratefully at him, reaching out for his hand and clasping it roughly in my own “Stay till I fall asleep please” I’m almost but not quite begging him to stay with me now when all I wanted was him gone two minutes ago, but he stays and I don’t feel him pull away from me. Eventually my body finally sags in defeat and I surrender to sleep once more.
I wake a few hours later feeling different, I didn’t feel defeated anymore, I felt confident and full of fight that we can get through this, whatever this is! Jack and I will survive. I’m ready to start looking after him again but that will come with sacrifices. Checking my phone there’s immediate relief to see no missed calls or messages before glancing over at Marshall sleeping in the chair in the corner of my room and swallowing hard, he looks uncomfortable and I want to cry because he will be the one sacrifice that I have to make and it will hurt more than anything. I shove it deep down inside of me, dreading the conversation to come and take my now adjusted attitude for a much needed shower, I had this sense that I could take on the world once more, we’d done it before and we sure as shit could do it again.
He’s not in the chair anymore when I get out of the shower eventually, he’s still here though I can hear him chatting away to Rosie and it’s a comforting sound whilst I sort myself out and make myself decent, I spend a few moments thinking about how this conversation will go, before calling the hospital for and asking for updates on Jack, he’s still under sedation and has had a comfortable night which is the best I could wish for at this point. I’ll have this chat with Marshall and then head back to him.
“Hey” he walks in the bedroom with a coffee for me and for some reason I feel the need to cover my body that he’s seen a hundred times. He notices and hesitates In handing my mug to me.
“Have you called the hospital this morning” he asks nicely, I suspect he doesn’t know what else to say but it gets my back up, like he’s insinuating something like I don’t give a shit. How my head has come up with that paranoid shit I don’t know so I bite back the urge to snap at him.
“Yeah, he had a comfortable night. Thank you for bringing me home and staying with me” I am grateful to him.
“That’s what friends are for Jas!” he ruffles my damp hair and sits beside me on the bed.
“We need to talk Marshall, I'm going to be here most of the time with Jack once he gets home, our Wednesday’s will not happen as often as they used too if at all now” my voice is soft and calm careful not to poke the bear and it kind of works, he sighs before getting up and pacing the floor of my bedroom, Rosie following him up and down. “you’ll still need break Jas, don’t make any decisions when you’re upset please, I love you and I don’t want to be without you” he doesn’t sound like Marshall at all, he’s sensing the beginning of the end, I haven’t said it’s the end but his declaration of love pulls at my wretched heart.
“I told you from the start that Jack would come first Marshall and I meant that. You deserve to come first in someone’s life. I didn’t say it was over. I just meant it might not be as often as it has been but I really think you do deserve better.” He relaxes a little taking his spot back beside me on my bed “I’ll take what I can get Jas, I’m not giving you up baby” I hate myself, he hugs me and I can’t find it in myself to reciprocate his affection, I’m starting to distance myself from him. I decide I'm going to leave this conversation where it is at the moment, my earlier declaration of positivity starting to wane and I wanted to get to Jack.
“Get dressed, I’ll take you to you the hospital Jas, do you want to take anything in for Jack? I’ll take Rosie for a quick walk” and he heads out.
Awesome! that’s him in full denial then.
Everybody Hurts
By
REM