Hope
Hope stroked Ace’s soft cheek as he nursed, her legs curled up on the hotel ottoman. She was taking in the rare moment of silence and reprieve from the hospital. She and her dad swapped places for a couple of hours. Hope came back to the hotel to nurse Ace and sleep. The last week had been chaotic. After getting that fateful phone call, Hope, with the help of her father, Harper, and Mrs. Lulu, had to scurry to prepare and plan for a potentially long stay in Bethesda. It was a three-hour drive north, depending on traffic, but having only given birth a few days before his injury, and needing to ensure that she and Ace were both healthy enough to travel, delayed their trip to meet Chad at Walter Reed.
After getting medical clearance by her doctors and a referral to the base physician and pediatrician, Hope and her dad set off to Maryland. Harper stayed back and was responsible for Isabella. Mrs. Lulu had to return to the KoffeeHaus, with promises she would be back soon. There was no question in Hope’s mind that if she called Mrs. Lulu, she would appear within a day. Hope was blessed, and recognized the unique help she had. As challenging as this had been, if she didn’t have her family, including Mrs. Lulu, she would be lost. Knowing she herself was supported, she knew that she had to pour herself into taking care of Ace and Chad.
She swaddled the infant in a blanket, pressing a tender, affectionate kiss on his face before placing him in the sleeper. Hope lingered, and admired how Ace already had Chad’s features; the shape of his head, the tiny ears, the shapes of his eyes. Ace was a symbol of hope for the two of them, and so was Isabella. They were the reason why Hope woke up in the morning and faced the challenges of an injured Marine husband, and it was the reason that Chad woke up and did his rehab, and therapy. They worked together, so that they could live the life their children deserved.
Hope climbed into the bed next to the sleeper and stretched her legs out. She pulled her laptop onto her lap, then took a deep breath and navigated the programs to find her work in progress. Writing became her escape, a way to cope, was as healing as any therapy that Chad was receiving. Her fingers began to type and her heart opened up. She reflected on the short years that she and Chad had been together, and realized how far they each had come. She relished in these memories because there had been times, and hours in the hospital, where she buried her tears, and the grief of watching her husband struggle to remember what day it was or to even get to the edge of the bed overwhelmed her.
Those tears suffocated her at times. The fear of the unknown. Would her Chad, the one who had the sharp memory, who could hear her on his right side, and was confident about every decision he made – would he come back? How could she, as his wife, instill the hope that he had instilled in her when she faced the hardest grief she had ever faced, of losing her mother, in him? Was she capable of holding her husband up when he had to face potentially losing his career?
She took a deep breath, after typing several more paragraphs, and closed her laptop. Exhaustion, not emotion, was overwhelming her. Two weeks ago, she had given birth, and she was barely eating and drinking enough to nurse, but she had to do it. She had to pull it together. With that obligation, and that burden, she chose to lie down and take a nap. She needed to refill the physical energy stores. Chad had a lot to face and she had to be there for him. She would be there for him, forever.
“Chad, I need you to raise the hand on the side you hear the tone. If you don’t hear anything, don’t raise either hand,” the civilian audiologist instructed. “Do you understand?”
Hope watched through the double paned glass as Chad nodded. The bruising and cuts had healed, and his scrapes and burns were fading, but Chad continued to remain confused at times and he complained of persistent ringing in his ears. Hope pressed her head against the pane of the glass; she strained to hear anything. She hated not being right there, but this is the best she could do, for now.
She held onto the hope that the doctors would discharge Chad soon. He could complete the rest of his rehabilitation in Norfolk, and hopefully attach to another unit again. Hope hated watching Chad struggle. His speech and occupational therapists were challenging his memory, and problem-solving, to the point that Chad would be so fatigued that sentences were too complex to form.
The other struggle Hope witnessed was Chad’s emotions. The level-headed, logical thinking man, had turned into a train wreck of emotions. At times, Chad was his normal, joking man, and then the next, he was either bawling or crying over the simplest task. Hope had also witnessed anger, the kind of anger that she had never experienced with Chad before. Hope and Chad shared their arguments, but this level of anger was different, and Hope watched Chad lose control of his emotions.
Chad struggled to understand these new challenges. The doctors explained that these were normal experiences for a traumatic brain injury, and that Chad was lucky he was as well as he was. There were days that Hope wanted to strangle these doctors. No, he wasn’t lucky. Chad was grieving, and was struggling to heal. Chad witnessed his comrades get blown up in front of him, and he was “lucky.” Hope believed in Chad, though. She believed that he would do everything he could to heal, as best he could, and she planned to be there for him.
Once Hope saw Chad push back from the table, she made her way to the examination room door. She smiled at him as she pulled the door open for him to walk out, which grew brighter as he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her cheek. “I think I can hear better,” he said with a bit of hope in his voice.
“That is great news, Chad! What did the audiologist say?” Hope squeezed his waist, turning her head to peek at the woman in the room, as if she would answer the question.
“She said, tentatively, there was improvement. It wasn’t perfect, but a lot better.” Chad wrapped his arm around her waist and they both started to walk down the hall. He was moved down into a regular hospital room and walked his way around to most of his treatments. His pain had lessened, and he wasn’t struggling as much physically.
As they got closer to his room, he turned to her and Hope looked up to see what made him pause. “Do you think it would be okay if you brought Ace?” he asked.
That question always pained her. He’d asked that question several times in the last few weeks. The doctors at home warned her that Ace needed to be at least six weeks old before they ventured out into a hospital setting. They encouraged walks outdoors, with fresh air and short bouts in different public settings, but hospitals were filled with germs. Ace was getting very close to that six-week mark, and Hope was as tempted as Chad to bring him from the hotel. It would make things so much easier. Her dad could leave and tend to his personal matters and Hope could nurse more regularly, but the risk of germs was too great for regular long visits. But then she had an idea.
“Well, we could ask the nurse if you could have a pass to the Gardens? Maybe if I brought Ace when it was nice out?” Hope’s eyes lit with excitement. Why didn’t she think of this before? It would be a fresh air environment, and Chad would make sure to be in fresh clothes and wash his hands. The realization that seeing his son, for the very first time, could change the course of Chad’s recovery brought an immense sense of excitement over Hope.
When Hope witnessed the enthusiasm that lit up Chad’s eyes, she knew that she was onto something. This was the first time Hope saw her old Chad. The Chad that was hopeful, that was perpetually happy when it came to his family. He took her hand and practically dragged her to the nurse’s station so that they could talk to the nurse. Hope laughed, shaking her head at his eagerness.
Hope leaned over the counter, waving at the nurse, a woman who they had befriended over the last few weeks. “Hi, Emma,” she smiled. “Chad and I have a request.” She quirked her head to the side for a moment.
“No, a huge ass favor,” Chad chimed in.
“Oh?” Emma smiled up at them, then looked at Chad. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy. What’s up?”
“So, would you by any chance give me a pass to the Gardens area? So that Hope could bring Ace over? We don’t want him inside the hospital just yet, but I’m dying to lay eyes on the little guy,” Chad practically begged, much like a child wanting a toy in a store.
Emma’s eyes lit up; the nurse had gotten to know Ace, and Isabella, through the numerous pictures Hope had stored on her phone. Emma was Hope and Chad’s hero and, without a doubt, she clasped her hands together and said, “Absolutely. You really don’t need a pass. You just have to let us know where you are, and how long you will be there. When are you guys thinking? I would love to see the little guy too; maybe on break?” Emma stood and walked around the nurse’s station to talk with them.
Hope looked up at Chad, grinning. “Maybe tomorrow? Does that mean you’re on shift?”
Emma squealed, wrapping her arms around both of them. “Yes! Please, let’s do it around lunch time, or maybe during a break? I mean, you really don’t have to do it on my time, but, you know.”
Hope studied Chad’s face, wondering what he was thinking. “What do you think, Chad?”
Chad smiled, and shrugged. “Well, since I have permission, we can do it whenever. I’d really like to see him soon, you know.” His trademark smile creased his face. His kindness and consideration was shining now, and Hope saw a glimmer of light in his eyes.
Hope tugged on his green USMC t-shirt teasingly and pressed her forehead in his arm. “You’ll see him tomorrow, and I can’t wait for you to hold him. But rest for now, and you’ll see him soon.”
Hope smiled back at Emma and reached out and squeezed the nurse’s hand. “I will let you know when I go get Ace. Maybe you can bring Chad down?”
“That’s a great idea. Perfect reason to run away from the floor for a bit. I’ll make sure to have coverage!” She smiled brightly, waving at the two of them as they made their way back to Chad’s room.