Chad
“How about you jump in the wheelchair, and I push you down to the Gardens?” Emma said as she pulled up the wheelchair to Chad’s bed, where he sat with his legs hanging over the side.
“I really don’t think I need it,” Chad remarked, looking at the nurse. He had gotten up, and a Corpsman had helped him shower and wash up for his mini field trip. He was anxiously waiting for the text that Hope was on her way with their son.
“Well, you still get the dizzy spells. How about you walk down while pushing it. Then, if you need it, we have it at least?” Emma offered a compromise, her smile bright. Chad knew she was excited to meet Ace; there was so much talk about the newborn that most of the nurses and Corpsman knew of their children. Hope was Chad’s hero. Here she was, almost six weeks after giving birth, running between hotel and hospital to tend to her son and husband. He could see the weariness in her face. He tried to convince her to go back and rest more often, but she resisted. He cherished her company, though. It had been a very difficult few weeks and if there was anything comforting in all of it, it was her constant presence and support.
“Good idea. Although, I still don’t think I’ll need it.” He shrugged as he scooted off the bed, leaning forward to tie his shoes. And when he sat upright, he was forced to grab the side of the bed. Emma was right, the dizziness overcame him rapidly. He forgot leaning over was one of the triggers. He held his face in his hands, waiting for the moment to pass. The room swam around him as he rocked on the edge of the bed.
Emma moved around the chair and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay? Do you need to lay down?”
Chad waved her off briefly, shaking his head. “No, no. It’ll pass. But yes, I’ll take the wheelchair.” After a few minutes, Chad felt his cellphone vibrate and ding by his side. It was Hope; she was on her way, with Ace. His heart skipped a beat and he tried to shake off most of the dizziness. “That’s Hope. We should head down soon.” Chad looked up at Emma, his vision steadying.
“Are you okay?” Emma leaned over. Chad saw her do her usual inspection of his eyes and reach for his wrist to assess his pulse.
“I’m fine. I just leaned over and got up too quickly,” Chad said as he motioned at his shoes, half-annoyed. “Lesson learned…..again.” He tried to brush it off as he scooted closer to the edge to stand.
“Careful.” Emma stood to the side as Chad rose. He stood tall, pausing to let the room steady before he shuffled his way to the wheelchair. He chided himself as he slumped into the chair. He didn’t want to roll down to the Gardens, but it was now the fastest way to get there without falling. Emma probably read the frustration in his movement and body language, and offered her encouragement. “It's okay. Now we can zip down there quickly. Consider it a free ride.” The woman patted his shoulder assuredly. “Do you need pain medication or anything before we head down?”
“No, no. I’m okay. I’ll take it when I get back,” Chad grumbled as he rested his elbow on the armrest, his head on his hand, defeated by his first setback of the day.
“If you say so.” Emma pushed Chad out of his room. Chad saw her signal a Corpsman down to inform him of where she was going. He knew that this was something a Corpsman would typically do but Emma was on a special trip, and so was he. He had to force himself to change perspective; the last thing he needed was Hope concerned when he was meeting his son for the first time.
Chad sat up straighter, as he rode the elevator down. He tried to make small talk with Emma. It was his sad attempt to change his mind’s direction. “Emma, remind me, do you have kids?” It was only a reminder of his struggles with his brain, since the injury.
Emma must’ve known, even though they had seen each other several times a week, Chad was unable to recall some basic information, even if it was repeated to him. “Yes, I have two boys, they’re eight and ten. Boys are special, Chad. I think you’re going to be delighted.”
Chad smiled at the suggestion. “I can’t wait to hold him. I remember when my Isabella was born. She was early, and so tiny. It's the reason why we call her Peanut. God, I miss my little girl. Those video calls just aren’t enough.” Chad looked up at Emma, smiling, as he reminisced about the daughter who waited for him to come home.
“Almost, Chad. You’re almost there. Remember, the doctors just want to make sure you aren’t having any seizures before they send you off to Norfolk. Hang in there.” Emma patted his shoulder as she pushed his wheelchair through the automatic double doors that opened to a gazebo and courtyard area; they had arrived.
Chad shielded his eyes from the sun, and looked around for the familiar silhouette of his wife, finally identifying her under one of the gazebos. Ben, her father, was there too. He waved at Chad excitedly. Ben played a silent, yet pivotal, role in his recovery. He supported Hope so that she could support him. He was with Ace when Hope was with him, and he frequently visited Chad while Hope rested at the hotel. He was grateful for him for his father-in-law and sister-in-law. Hope’s family quickly became his family, and he would never trade them in for the world.
Emma was the first to greet Hope and Ben. She hugged them both and peeked at the infant carrier sitting on the bench, facing away from Chad. Hope stepped over and hugged Chad, kissing his cheek tenderly. “Hey hon, I thought you were walking down? Everything okay?” Hope was observant; it was one of her strengths.
“I bent over to tie my shoes, and I got dizzy. Emma and I didn’t want to waste time, so we decided to use the wheelchair to get down here quickly.” Chad offered both the problem and solution so he could abate her concern.
It was still written on her face, though, and she tenderly stroked his temple. “You sure you’re okay? No seizure or anything, right?”
“No, no. Not a seizure. Just a stupid move, that's all,” Chad assured her, knowing that seizures were their worst nightmare. He had a few early on, but he hadn’t had one for several weeks. A seizure would be a setback, and it was one of the signs his neurologists and therapists were looking for.
Hope nodded as she moved to the infant carrier, where Ben and Emma were cooing and admiring the baby. Chad pushed the chair closer, so he could catch a glimpse of his son. Hope waved him away, laughing. “Wait, wait. Dad is supposed to take pictures when you see him.”
Chad shook his head at the minor delay as Ben and Emma took over the phones for pictures. Once Hope was satisfied with the step-in photographers, Chad watched as she leaned over the carrier and lifted their son in her arms. He was dressed in a light blue sleeper. Hope had donned a cute infant hat over the child’s head, shaped like teddy bear ears.
Chad couldn’t help but grin as she walked over to him. He held his arms open to cradle his son, and he could see tears forming in Hope’s eyes as she lowered the bundle into his arms. “Chad, meet your son, Ace Benjamin Buchard,” she introduced them. Hope lingered over Chad, admiring the two of them, together for the first time.
Chad’s eyes grazed over the child. He was perfect. The perfect nose, the perfect set of eyes, the perfect little lips. He couldn’t help but slide his own finger into the palm of the drowsy infant’s hand. Ace hadn’t lost the instinct to grasp onto anything in his hand. It had to be several minutes before he was able to blurt out, “He’s beautiful.” Tears were streaming down his cheeks as he leaned back against the wheelchair. This was Ace, his son. “He’s perfect,” he said as she looked up at Hope, who also was wiping tears away from her face.
“He is, isn’t he?” Hope leaned down and kissed Chad on the temple. “Dad and I think he looks just like you. Doesn’t he, Emma?” She looked over at her helpers.
“Oh, he’s beautiful, guys. Look at how cute his little fingers are.” Emma walked behind Chad, and leaned over to admire the sweet face.
“He’s a feisty one. A good set of lungs when he wants to let you know what he thinks,” Ben added, making Chad laugh.
“That might be something he got from Hope,” Chad teased as he sniffled. The child leaned his head against Chad’s arm and he couldn’t help it; he pulled the infant closer.
“Hey now, I’m sure you had a great set of lungs when you were a kid,” Hope razzed back at him.
Emma and Ben lingered over the loving couple for a bit, making conversation and joining in on jokes, until it was time for Emma to return to the floor. She gave everyone a hug and an extra squeeze before waving at the group as she went back inside the hospital. Ben took his cue to return to the hotel, knowing that Hope and Chad needed some private time as a family, even though their firstborn was far away.
“Alright kiddos, let me go catch Harper and Isabella up on our happenings this morning. Are you guys okay here?” Ben smiled, as he leaned over to kiss the top of his daughter’s head, and rest a hand on Chad’s shoulder.
Chad nodded. “Thank you, Ben. It means a lot to have you here. It's been a long few weeks.”
Ben smiled, that bright smile that lit up his eyes, a feature he passed along to his daughter, that Chad loved so much. “Anytime, son. Family does anything for family. Just get better.”
“That’s a deal.” Chad grinned back as he huddled the small bundle against his chest.
Hope chimed in as she laid her head on Chad’s shoulder, “Thanks, Dad. I love you. Thank you for everything, really.” Hope smiled up at her father. She added, “Let Isabella know we will call her later today, okay?”
“Got it. Behave, you three.” Ben winked as he waved at them, then walked through the gates of the Gardens and toward the base hotel.
Ace was starting to stir, so Chad shifted him so that he was lying perpendicular to him, allowing the child to wake on his own. His two arms cradled him underneath, with his palms holding his head. “Hey there, little man.”
Hope rested her chin on Chad’s shoulder, quiet as Chad interacted with their son. She would intermittently add a tender doting stroke on their child’s cheek, to coax him awake. “He’ll need to nurse soon.”
“How is he doing? How are you doing with all of that?” Chad asked, his eyebrows raised, concerned that the chaos of his recovery may be impeding his own family.
“We’re managing,” Hope replied, as if she could read Chad’s concern. “He seems to be growing out of his newborn clothes and now is in his one to three-month onesies. The pediatrician said he was gaining weight like he should be.” Hope moved to the bench closest to Chad and Ace.
“What about you?” Chad shifted the child and offered him to Hope once he saw him waking. “Are you okay? I know we’ve been so focused on me, I want to know if you’re okay. Like, really okay.” He handed Ace over, placing a kiss on Hope’s cheek, his concern for her a good distraction from his own spinning mind. Hope leaned into his affection, and Chad smiled. He missed this, he missed the sweet intimacy they shared, marred by his injury and recovery.
“I’m doing okay. I need to do a better job of drinking enough water so that my milk supply remains good. It helps that Walter Reed is practically a city in and of itself. You know I’m eating my fruits and veggies. We are managing. Really.” Hope scooped the bundle into her lap, smiling at their son. She pressed a sweet kiss to the boy’s forehead. Chad admired the bond that she had with him. Hope brought him joy.
“Good. I’m okay, you know. If you need to sleep in or go take a break more, I’m okay,” Chad offered his encouragement as he watched her deftly wrap her shoulders with a nursing blanket, allowing her to nurse their son modestly.
“I know,” Hope replied, as she reached over, patting him on the knee. “I’m proud of how far you’ve come. I know what you went through wasn’t easy. I’m proud of you for talking to the counselors, and working so hard in your rehab.”
Chad took a deep breath, shaking his head. “I’ll do anything to get home to you. Anything. The same goes to going back to my unit. Although, at this rate, I don’t think I’ll be attached to the same unit by the time this is over.” He rested his head on his hand again.
“I spoke with the Family Readiness Program leader in Norfolk yesterday. She said that the wives and husbands of those you lost, they are doing okay. They’re still getting dinners delivered, and their kids… their kids are doing okay too.” Hope attempted to bring light to a certainly terrible situation.
Chad nodded silently, circling his own knee with his fingertip, the harsh and painful memories flooding his mind. He was the most senior officer that was injured in that firefight. He struggled with the weight of the nine lost that day. He remembered watching the men and women falling, hearing the cries and the screams. His head sunk, hanging, as he shook it, trying to regain his composure.
“Chad? What’s wrong? Are you okay? Do I need to get a nurse?” Hope gingerly shifted the nursing child still in her lap. Her arm wrapped around Chad’s shoulder.
It was her touch that pulled Chad out of his flashback. He looked at her, blinking, shaking his head continuously. He leaned over his knees and covered his face. “No. I fell into one of my daydreams. I shouldn’t have let myself wander there.”
“I brought it up. Chad, this isn’t a choice for you. You’re dragged into it on your own. Have you told the doctors?” Hope asked, concerned, as she unlatched the child and shifted him over her shoulder to burp. “You’ve really had a hard time with those.”
“No. I won’t. I need to get home.” Chad looked at her, his frustration growing at the suggestion. “I don’t need the help. I just need to go home, and rest. I’ll get back to my usual self; my hearing will come back. It’ll be fine.” His response was curt, and harsher than he expected to sound.
Chad watched as Hope secured Ace into the infant carrier and place the blanket around him snuggly. “Chad. You need to address what’s going on. This isn’t normal.”
“Hope, I know you’re trying to help, but this isn’t helping. I know your heart, and your personality, makes you incapable of simply letting me handle this on my own, but you need to. You. Can’t. Fix. This. So, just stop. I don’t need it right now.”
Hope sat back against the bench, silent. Chad looked at her; the concern was written all over her face. Her worry triggered a rise in his temper and he didn’t intend to lose control of his emotions, but he was tired of people harping on him, and hounding him to talk about what happened. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about it. Why should he relive the worst nightmare he has ever had? Where was the logic in that?
Hope finally broke her silence. “Right then.” She pressed her lips together in a thin line, staring off at something in the distance, looking anywhere but at him. “Maybe it’s time to go in. Ace will need to get out of the sun.” Chad knew she was diverting the direction away from him and onto Ace; it was an easy way to avoid what she really was thinking. Ace was in the shade. It was time for him to rest. He was tired of resting. He wanted to be home.
“Fine. I can push myself in. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Chad abruptly ended the conversation, pushing himself back from the bench, and had his back turned before Hope could stand to say goodbye. Chad heard a soft “Bye” from behind him, and a part of his heart was tugged, but he didn’t turn around. Chad saw Hope’s reflection in the glass door, and she was standing under the gazebo, completely still, and shocked. Her arms dropped to her side, facing him, as if she was hoping for him to turn around, and he didn’t.
By the time he arrived back to his room, he was covered in sweat, an easy disguise for the tears that washed over his face. He had never hurt Hope that way before. The overwhelming sense of guilt that overcame him, crushed him more than anything. How could he be so cruel? What had happened to him?
Before he was able to climb into his bed, he heard the familiar voice of his nurse, Emma. “Hey, Chad. Ace is precious. You must be proud.”
Chad waved her off as he wiped his face with a napkin, hoping the sweat would hide what was happening. “Yes. He’s cute. I’m tired. Can I get something for my headache?”
Emma’s voice turned to concern as she shifted to help him get up and out of his wheelchair, and into his bed. “Are you okay? Did you have another spell outside?”
“No,” Chad responded, as he kicked his shoes off and slid under the covers of the hospital sheets.
Emma paused over him, studying him before she turned to leave. “I’m getting the Corpsman to take your vitals, and I’ll be back with your medicine. I’m worried about you.”
Chad groaned, covering his face with the sheets, cursing at the theme that haunted him. Everyone was worried about him, and he wanted nothing to do with their worry.