Bustling, the halls of the hospital were teaming with young adults sporting tear-soaked faces—eyes all asking; what could I have done? Why didn’t I see this coming?
Bishop’s eyes were barely pried—swollen, aching, and showcasing an agony that left many around him speechless and hesitant to approach.
Cramped and confined were the white walls all around him—the numerous monitors alarming oppressively as he sat bedside to a scene he longed to awaken from.
His hand trembling as he held Nathan’s, his misery was stirred slightly when a slender woman stepped into the dark room. Nathan’s head was dressed and wrapped and he boasted a black left eye. He looked like he’d been in a fight with a school mate—not a handgun.
“Hello…are you, Bishop?” Her kind smile and soft words weren’t enough to elicit an immediate response. Stepping into the room, the brunette woman closed the curtain to the hallway behind her, shielding the room from the on-looking crowd of young adults. “Bishop? My name is Pam. Is it okay if I come in the room?”
“Are you here to do it right now? Like right now?” Bishop’s anxiety had him rising from his seat, squeezing his brother’s hand.
“Do what, Bishop?”
“Are you here to withdraw life support from my brother right now?” Nearly inaudible, Bishop’s voice all but failed him as the thought of the Nathan’s pulse flat lining on the monitor nearly took his breath.
“No, sweetheart. Please, Bishop…sit. I’m not here to do that. I’m here to talk to you. I’m only here to talk, okay?”
“Okay.”
Pulling a small stool from the opposite side of the bed, Pam sat across from Bishop. Bishop’s initial relief was quickly fleeting. Cherishing every second that his brother’s heart was beating, Bishop only wanted time alone with Nathan and cared not to be interrupted by this Pam woman.
“Bishop…I’m assuming the physician has been in to speak with you?”
Pam’s calm tone had a motherly quality to it that eased Bishop’s irritation. Looking to the older woman, he felt his bottom lip quiver and his innards swirl.
“Yeah.”
“Bishop…I don’t work for the hospital. If you have any questions that you feel haven’t been answered, please feel free to ask—”
“They said his brain…they said he was brain dead. There’s nothing left to do.” The words were a vile poison seeping from his mouth—a poison he never imagined he’d taste. Overcome by his emotions, Bishop rested his head on Nathan’s hospital bed next to his thigh. Within seconds he felt a hand on his shoulder.
His desire to let go—to breakdown—was overtaken by his longing for knowledge. He had to know more. Reaching into his core, he secured what strength he had left and composed himself.
“What if…what if there’s some chance he can recover? What if they take him off life support when there’s still a chance?”
Smiling, Pam returned to the opposing side of the bed, seating herself. “Bishop, may I explain, from a clinical standpoint, the concept of brain death?”
Bishop prodded her to continue.
“When a person suffers an injury to the brain that is so significant that it leads to brain death…there is no recovery. When we hear of those miraculous stories of people awakening after being comatose for years, they were actually in a vegetative state. Their brain always had oxygen and blood flowing to it. In brain death, the brain is actually dead. In your brother’s case, test results show definitively that brain death has in fact occurred.”
“So that’s it then…that’s really it. They’re going to take that breathing tube out and I’ll never see my brother again.” Bishop stood. Staring out the window, he felt isolated and completely depleted. As his tears poured, Pam was soon at his side, offering him a much needed embrace.
“That’s why I’m here, Bishop. I’m here to talk to you about a decision your brother made before this.”
Gently pulling away, Bishop looked to Pam. “Decision? Who are you with again?”
“I’m with Gifting Life and Days.”
“What does that mean? What does that have to do with my brother?”
“Bishop, it is my job to discuss with you what the next steps are, and enlighten you on advanced directives and decisions your brother made prior to this incident.”
“Decisions?”
“Yes. Bishop, your brother made the decision to be an organ donor.”
Confusion complied as Bishop stood and stepped backward. “So you’re going to do that right now too?”
“No, sweetheart. No, right now I’m here to talk to you, to educate you on your brother’s decision, and to make sure you are okay.”
“I don’t understand. Are they taking the tube out tonight or not? The doctor said they were taking his breathing tube out tonight.”
“No. That’s not happening tonight. I understand your parents are flying in?”
“Yeah…from Cape Town. They’ll be here in the morning but I told them they weren’t going to make it in time but they both insist on speaking with the neurologist.”
“They’ll be here in time, Bishop.”
“I’m so confused.”
“I understand. Your brother made a selfless decision before—”
“My brother shot himself…he shot himself in the head.” Turning from Pam, Bishop approached a lifeless Nathan. “I just want to punch him. I’m so angry right now.”
“Bishop…when was the last time you had something to eat?”
The question almost confused Bishop as he turned to Pam. “Eat? Shit…I don’t know. Like last night I think.”
“You haven’t eaten in over twenty-four hours, correct?”
“I can’t.”
“I know you’re suffering right now, but I need you to know that my colleagues are outside the room. We’re going to take care of your brother. I need you to take care of yourself…can I buy you a cheeseburger?”
Wiping his eyes, Bishop looked to his brother once more. “I guess. I don’t want to leave him though.”
“The cafeteria is open until ten. Will you walk with me there…just to stretch your legs and eat?”
Her soft touch on his shoulder had Bishop nodding his head as the two walked past the bed. Bishop looked to Nathan yet again—finally, the feeling of isolation was somewhat lifted thanks to this stranger—this sweet woman named Pam.