No Good Deed - Marie Sexton Page 0,74
be in to see you.”
Jonas’s knees shook so badly as she closed the curtain, he had to sit down hard on the chair behind him. He’d already forgotten every word of her instructions.
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God—”
“Shh. Come here.” Charlie began undressing him like a child, easing him out of his winter coat and hat. “You’re putting on this nightgown and lying down. That’s all you’re doing. Don’t think past that, okay? Say it for me. What are you doing?”
It was hard to speak with his breath coming so short and hard. “Undressing. Lying down.”
“Good. That’s all it is. A nightgown, then lying down. Just think one piece of clothing at a time. Shoes first, okay?”
“Okay. Yeah. My shoes. Okay.”
Charlie patiently led him through the process, putting Jonas’s cast-off jeans and sweatshirt into the plastic bag until Jonas stood naked and trembling in front of him. Charlie slipped the gown onto him, then eased him down onto the bed.
No. Not a bed.
Gurney. That was the word. Jonas clung to the word like a life raft. Gurney. Strange little bed on wheels, one end of it angled up so he wasn’t lying flat on his back. It was comfortable enough. His hands shook as he pulled the little socks onto his feet, but he wasn’t going to make Charlie do that for him. After that, Charlie pulled a blanket over him. Then, he pulled a small photo from his wallet.
A selfie Jonas had taken years ago of him and Shelly together. Shelly had been caught laughing, her mouth open and her eyes bright, a glass of wine in one hand. Jonas wished he could remember exactly when he’d taken it or what they’d been laughing about. But at the time, it hadn’t seemed as momentous as it did right now. Back then, it had been just another day.
Jonas’s eyes filled with tears. “How did you get this?”
“Off your phone. I thought you might like to hang on to it. It’ll give you something to focus on.”
“Thank you.”
Charlie opened the curtain, signaling the nurse that they were ready. Charlie held Jonas’s hand as they waited. Jonas was still terrified, but seeing Shelly’s face helped him focus on something other than his fear.
“Thank you,” he said again.
Charlie brushed Jonas’s hair out of his eyes. “Of course.”
A nurse appeared eventually. “We have some paperwork to go over, and then I’ll get your IV in. How’s the anxiety? Where would you put it on a scale of one to ten, with ten being the highest?”
“Ten.” Jonas clenched his hand around the photo of Shelly. “Ten thousand.”
“Okay. Maybe we’ll do the IV first. Then we can get a little Ativan going. How does that sound?”
Charlie answered for him. “I think that’d be a good idea.”
She brought him a warm blanket, which felt like heaven. He focused on the photo while yet another nurse inserted the IV into his arm and hung a bag over his bed.
“You’re going to start feeling better any minute now,” she told him. “This stuff works fast.”
At first, Jonas felt only a strange wave of cold rippling up his arm, then down his chest. “It’s not working.”
Charlie chuckled. “It works fast, but it’s not instant. Try the breathing again.”
Jonas took a few deep breaths, focusing on the picture of Shelly. Remembering evenings spent sitting on her couch, sharing secrets and a bag of Cheetos.
Jonas’s next breath came a little easier.
And the one after that.
And the one after that, even easier still.
He could almost feel his heart slowing. He could imagine Shelly smiling at him.
“There you go,” Charlie said, squeezing his hand. “Keep breathing. Just let it work.”
Jonas took a deep breath and let it out, thanking whatever god had come up with modern pharmaceuticals. It wasn’t that his fear was gone. But now, there seemed to be a hazy curtain hanging between it and him. As long as Jonas didn’t pull back that curtain, he’d be fine. At least he could breathe. At least Charlie was here.
“Better?” Charlie asked.
“Yes.”
The anesthesia nurse came back and asked him all the questions they’d asked at the pre-op—was he a smoker, was he allergic to any medications, did he have any more questions? He signed the paperwork. The anesthesiologist and his nurse talked to him more, explaining what was going to happen. Jonas listened with half an ear, trying to keep the words from ripping back that veil that hid his panic.
“The recipient’s parents are in the hall,” the nurse said. “Do