Memories (20 page)

 The phone invaded his thoughts and he picked up the one on the entryway table.

 "Hello."

 "May I speak with Mr. DeCara please?"

 "Speaking."

 The woman's voice on the other end hesitated a moment. "Mr. DeCara, I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm calling for Dr. Bradseth from Southampton Hospital."

 Michael clenched the receiver. "What's happened?"

 "I'm sorry, Mr. DeCara, but there's been a change in your daughter's condition and Dr. Bradseth would like you to come as soon as possible."

 "Tell me what happened."

 "I don't know myself," she told him. "The doctor only told me to have you come immediately."

 Michael took a deep breath to control his emotions. "I'll be there right away."

 He left the house without a word to anyone and was at the hospital within minutes. All the way there, he kept telling himself that a 'change in her condition' could be something positive, too. Maybe she had awoken and the news was good. But the closer he came to her room, he realized that wasn't the case.

 Walking into room 207B was like a bad flashback of the first night he'd seen her in ICU. Once again she was hooked up to a respirator, IV tubes were strung into her from all directions and a heart monitor filled the room with its constant, grating sound. Dr. Bradseth stood at the end of Vanessa's bed quietly conferring with a nurse and both looked up as Michael entered.

 "Mr. DeCara, thank you for coming," the doctor greeted him in his usual serious tone. The nurse slipped quietly from the room as Michael continued staring at the pale, thin form lying in the hospital bed. When had Vanessa become so thin, he wondered, confused by all that was going on before him. Had she been that way before and he hadn't noticed?

 The doctor brought his attention back to him. "Mr. DeCara, I'm afraid your daughter has had a relapse. The damage to her internal organs must have been more extensive than we realized, and the length of her coma has weakened her strength to fight back. She experienced a massive heart attack this morning. We are still evaluating the extent of the damage that it caused her, and I must warn you, it doesn't look very good at this point."

 The doctor's low-key, droning voice only confused Michael more. All his words seemed to run together. The only ones most prominent in his mind were relapse and heart attack. But he couldn't have heard right. Only old people had heart attacks, not young, strong women.

 "I don't understand," Michael managed to say. "She was fine the other day. How could all this happen?" He searched the doctor's face for answers, but all he got was the same, inhuman voice replying.

 "Like I said, Mr. DeCara. Her body was run down from the coma and there must have been more damage than we first realized to the internal organs..."

 "Yes, yes, yes!" Michael interrupted, irritated now at this calm man before him. "I know all that. But how could this happen? She was supposed to get better, not worse." The heart monitor continued its grating beeping sound, which pounded in Michael's ears. "And what is all this equipment for? Why does she need that damn thing?" Michael angrily pointed toward the heart monitor.

 Dr. Bradseth remained calm and controlled from twenty years experience with similar heart-wrenching experiences. It was never easy, every loss was a tragedy. But he continued explaining as best he could to the emotional father before him.

 "Your daughter's vital organs were damaged during the accident and the heart attack she experienced this morning only made her condition worse. Right now she is on complete life support."

 Michael stood dumbfounded as the doctor continued. "We've done a scan on the brain to see exactly what the extent of the damage has been. The technicians are still reading the x-rays now and we should know more about her condition in the next hour or so."

 "And then what?" Michael asked quietly. The words 'life support' had knocked all the fight out of him.

 "Let's just take this one step at a time," Dr. Bradseth suggested, trying to put off the biggest blow.

 Michael looked him squarely in the eyes. "I need to know doctor. Please."

 Dr. Bradseth sighed. "Depending on the results, you will have to decide whether or not to keep her on life support."

 Michael's eyes widened as he took a sharp breath. Dr. Bradseth placed his hand on his shoulder. "Let's wait for the results. One hour at a time, okay?" He promised to come back as soon as he knew, then he left the room with silent footsteps.

 Walking past Vanessa's bed, Michael stood and stared out the window of her room. The day was frigid and ice encrusted the edges of the glass, frozen in odd-lined shapes. Beyond, on the street, people were rushing to and fro, cars were passing through the quiet intersection and employees were busy in the shops beyond. Outside, life was going on while he stood in a room where death seemed imminent.

 He turned from the activity outside and sat heavily in the chair he'd sat in for countless hours. The heart monitor continued its noise, sometimes at a slow steady beat, sometimes erratic, as he studied the small form that no longer resembled his daughter.

 There were dark circles under her once sparkling eyes, her skin was sallow, no longer porcelain, and even the light freckles that she used to hate on the bridge of her nose were discolored. Her hair, once thick and a shiny auburn color now looked a dull brown, and the arms that extended over the blankets looked more like twigs covered in parchment.

 As he listened to her erratic breathing, despite the respirator, he wondered when she had begun wasting away and why he hadn't noticed it before this. Had he wanted her to come out of the coma so badly that he had been blind to her growing frailty?

 He could now understand what the doctor had been trying to tell him. Her body was much too frail to withstand even the slightest disruption, let alone a massive stroke. Slowly, as he continued staring at Vanessa, he silently prepared himself for the worst.

 An hour later, when the doctor returned, Michael stood stoically and nodded as he was told the diagnosis. There was severe damage to Vanessa's brain. She was considered brain-dead and her body could not survive without the life support system.

 "I'm sorry, Mr. DeCara," Dr. Bradseth told him, trying his best to be kind. "But there is no way that your daughter will come out of this."

 Michael stared at the doctor from his chair, never letting go of Vanessa's cold, frail hand. "So what do I do now?"

 "The only humane thing you can do is take her off of life support and let her go naturally," Bradseth answered him honestly. "But the decision as to when you are ready to do that is up to you. Sometimes it takes families awhile to get used to the idea. It's a hard thing to do, no matter what, I know."

 As Michael remained silent, Dr. Bradseth probed him a bit. "Is there anyone else we can call for you? Her mother, maybe? Another relative? It might help to have someone here with you."

 Michael shook his head. "There's only me and Vanessa. We're all that's left."

 "We have counselors on staff who are experienced in helping families facing this type of crisis. Would you like for me to send someone up here to be with you?"

 Again, Michael shook his head. "I'd like to be alone for awhile, if you don't mind."

 "Of course," Dr. Bradseth headed for the door, then turned to face him again. "Take all the time you need. Let us know if there's anything we can do, and when you've made your decision." With that, he walked out the door, closing it softly behind him.

 Time ticked away with every beat of Vanessa's heart monitor, every labored breath from her body. Michael stared blindly down at her, thinking, remembering, wishing.

 When he'd told the doctor that there was only he and Vanessa left, it wasn't completely true. There was Michelle. Sweet, innocent, two-year-old Michelle, who would suffer the most from the decision he was about to make. Now he had to become both mother and father to her, to make up for her great loss. How could he do it alone? How could he do it at all when all he wanted right now was to lie down and die beside his beautiful daughter? The only good thing that ever came from his life.

 Why had God done this to him, he wondered. Why had he let her live on all these months only to take her away from him?

 Her labored breathing told him he couldn't let her continue suffering this way. Each breath, each heartbeat, seemed to shake her entire body. He had seen too much suffering in his lifetime to allow it to happen to Vanessa. So, finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he walked to the door of her room with heavy footsteps and asked the nurse on duty to please contact Dr. Bradseth. He had made his decision.

Chapter Twenty-Three

 It took Vanessa's body six hours after being taken off all life support systems to finally find peace in eternal sleep. Michael sat with her the entire time, holding her hand, with little else to do but remember. He had watched her enter this world, all pink and wrinkled with a swatch of damp, orange hair stuck on her head. Now he watched her leave, gasping painfully for air, as the baby had once gasped her first breath of life. He saw her take her last breath.

 The doctor had warned him she might live up to three days after being taken off the machines, but it took only six hours. He was fortunate, one nurse told him in an effort to ease his pain, that she had gone quickly and quietly. Yeah, fortunate, he thought.

 As he walked out of room 207B for the final time, the night nurse standing in the doorway patted him on the back. "You can call us in the morning about the arrangements," she told him, practically in tears herself for losing their 'princess'. "Try to get some rest, okay?"

 Dry-eyed, Michael nodded at her and headed down the hall with no direction in mind. Unconsciously, he walked to conference room 225C and stepped inside, letting the door close softly behind him.

 The vet meeting was over for the night, but Kevin was still there, rearranging the chairs and picking up the paper cups from the meeting. He watched Michael walk into the room and straight past him to the window beyond, as if he were invisible.

 Michael stared out the window at the tall oak tree illuminated by floodlights. The sturdy tree was all but bare except for a few die-hard leaves hanging onto its branches. He watched as one curled, brown leaf broke free of its grasp in the gentle breeze and fall slowly to the ground, finally released of its hold.

 "She's gone," he said aloud.

 "I know." Kevin came up behind Michael and laid his hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, man."

 For the first time that day, Michael broke into heart-wrenching sobs over the loss of his beloved daughter. His whole body shook as he stood in front of the frozen window, the other man's hand steadfast on his shoulder offering what little solace he could.

 "Why?" he managed to choke out. "Why let her live all these months and then take her away? What was the purpose? It’s so cruel!"

 Kevin's large hand tightened on his shoulder then loosened again. "Sometimes it's hard to understand the reason why these things happen. Look at how many of us are still questioning the reason for Nam. But there's always a reason and it will show itself sooner or later."

 Michael shook his head slowly and managed to calm himself down a bit. He turned and looked up at the husky man before him, feeling better from the few words he'd offered. Kevin was big and rough around the edges to look at, but he had a way of handling people under stress like no man Michael had ever met. His calm blue eyes always seemed to be saying
I understand, I'm listening
.

 Michael bore his soul. "Vanessa was my reason for living, the only reason I cared about anything. Now what do I live for?"

 Kevin's brow creased as he stared hard at Michael. "For yourself, man," he said without hesitation. "For all the things you haven't done yet. For all the things that you are. For you!" His face softened. "And if that's not enough, there's a little girl at home who's going to need you more than ever now, remember?"

 Michael stared at the carpet and nodded his head. Of course. How could he be so selfish to forget about Michelle? Poor little Michelle, who had lost both her parents, who must now rely on him for everything.

 "Come on, I'll drive you home," Kevin said, placing his hand on Michael's back and leading him from the room. "You can pick up your car later. You have a lot ahead of you tomorrow."

 
And the next day and the next day...
Michael thought as he let Kevin lead him out the door and down the hallway.

 Vanessa DeCara-Chandler was buried in the family plot beside her husband, grandparents and great-grandparents, in a small ceremony of guests. Only a few close friends and colleagues had been invited, along with the Chandlers, whose presence both warmed and saddened Michael all at once. Catherine also came out for the funeral and to spend a few days at the house in Southampton with Michael and Michelle to help out.

 Michael walked in a trance the days preceding and after the funeral, allowing Cathy to run the house for him and grateful for her being there. The hardest thing he had done, besides burying his only daughter, was telling Michelle that Mommy would never come home again.