Jaime had been admitted to the hospital Sunday night for surgery Monday morning.
Friday night, I'd had Ashlee bring Bronx and Saint home, telling her why. We'd spent the night as a family. I'd managed to get Jaime to come out of his room after I'd gone in and sat and talked with him. As I'd suspected, he was scared. Of course he was. He was facing major surgery and the possibility of being diagnosed with the same cancer that had taken his mother.
Friday night we'd ordered in dinner, watched movies that Jaime chose - appropriate for Marvel until we put her to bed and then movies the boys all liked. Jaime had been trying to be upbeat, but the surgery and the possible diagnosis definitely weighed on him.
Joe had called to catch up and see how things were going. I told him what Jaime was facing. He sympathized and said he'd let Patrick and Andy know, too, if I didn't mind him doing so. I didn't.
And now, here we were, Sunday night, my son in a hospital gown and hospital pyjama pants, admitted to a hospital, again, and facing a major surgery. We'd had dinner together as a family at a restaurant I knew. A nicer place that we went to for special occasions. This may not have been a celebration, but I wanted it to be special. We didn't know what the coming week was going to bring. We'd gone in two cars, Meagan taking the boys and Marvel home and me taking Jaime to the hospital.
Jaime was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He hadn't said much since we spoke Friday night. We'd talked through his fears and his worry. And they were all reasonable ones.
A nurse came in with a tray and set it up beside Jaime's bed.
"Hi Jaime. I'm Nora. I'll be your nurse until 7 am tomorrow. I just need to start an I.V."
Jaime took his left hand from behind his head and, without looking at the nurse. She glanced at me and I shrugged. She knew why he was here. She just didn't know his history.
Once the I.V. was inserted and taped down, she came back with a pump and the bag that said Ringer's Lactate.
"This is just to keep you hydrated. And it'll help get medications into your bloodstream faster."
Jaime didn't look at the nurse.
Once she'd checked everything was flowing properly, she touched Jaime's shoulder and smiled at him. He wouldn't make eye contact. She smiled at me and left, telling us that we should call if we needed anything.
"Dad?" Jaime said, still staring at the ceiling.
"Yeah?" I asked.
"What if it's cancer?"
"We've been through this, Jaime. If it is, we'll do whatever we can and get you the best treatment we can."
"What if I die anyway?"
"The world will be a much darker place without you. But we're gonna fight like hell. Unless it gets too much for you. But I'll, we'll be by your side the whole way, regardless."
He looked out the window.
I can't read minds, but I felt like I had an idea what Jaime was thinking.
We watched TV for a while and then the nurse came in to give Jaime something to help him sleep. He was scheduled for surgery at 7 am, so he couldn't eat or drink anything tonight. Within the hour, Jaime was asleep. I watched TV for a while, and texted Meagan, Joe, Patrick, Andy, and Brendon.
Finally I was tired enough to try and sleep.
I'd set my alarm for 6 am to be up when Jaime was meant to be taken downstairs. I hadn't needed to. Meagan woke me up at 5:45.
"How are you here? Who has the kids?" I asked.
"Sarah. Brendon drove me here," she said.
I looked over at Jaime. He was still asleep. I knew they'd be waking him up to get him ready for surgery.
"How was he last night?" Meagan asked.
"Okay. He was quiet. They gave him something to help him sleep," I said.
We sat beside my sleeping son until Nora came in about five minutes later, trailed by Brendon.
"Okay, Jaime, I need you to wake up, hon."
Jaime groaned. To say he is not a morning person would be a gross understatement. Jaime pulled the blanket over his head.
"Jaime, come on. I promise, you can go back to sleep."
"Then why do I have to wake up to begin with?" He grumbled from under the covers.
"Because I want to see those lovely eyes," Brendon said in a sweet voice.
Jaime threw off his blankets to see who was talking to him like that.
"Oh. Good morning," Nora said, smiling.
Brendon smirked at Jaime who frowned back at him.
Nora put a needle into Jaime's I.V. and told him the porters would be by soon to bring him down for surgery. He looked over at me and I saw fear in his eyes. He looked like a little boy. Like he was no older than Saint. I smiled reassuringly at him.
Nora left and I sat next to Jaime on his bed until the porters came. They helped him onto the stretcher to take him down to surgery. He looked terrified. I spoke to him as soothingly as I could.
"You're gonna be okay, Jaime," I said. "I know you're scared. Meagan and I will be right here when you're done, okay?"
"Promish?" He asked, his words slurring as his eyelids drooped. The sedative was taking effect.
"Promise," I said, following the stretcher to the elevator. "You're going to be okay, Jaime."
He nodded and then grasped my arm.
"I'm shcared," he slurred.
"I know. I know you are. I am, too. But we're gonna be strong. We're brave. We're Wentz men!"
Jaimie smiled.
"Ca' I shange mi nam?" He slurred.
"If you want. Let's talk about it after your surgery, okay?"
"Uh huh," he mumbled.
The elevator doors opened and he was pushed in.
"Love you Dad," Jaime said, as the doors closed.
"Love you too, Son!" I shouted through the closed door, hoping he heard. Hoping he knew.