Winter was fast approaching, and the night’s air was chilly. Despite the warmth provided by the long brown coat he wore, he kept rubbing his palms together with the aim of getting warmer. He was standing at a bus stop nearest to his house on West Fullerton Avenue. He was waiting for his girlfriend, and the bus had yet to arrive, although it was 45 minutes late. He kept checking his watch and waiting anxiously.
It was now 11 p.m., and the bus had yet to arrive. He dialed Bessy, but the call never connected, and that was when he started to worry. The last time they spoke was around 8 p.m., and she told him that they just had a stop at a nearby gas station for those who needed to use the restroom. He heard her talk about how exhausted she was and that she couldn’t wait to see him.
It has been over a year since he saw Bessy, and, honest to God, he missed her. He works as a resident surgeon in the department of pediatric surgery at Lurie’s Children’s Hospital of Chicago, and so his job took all his time. They had met during his intern year at St. Michael’s Hospital, Toronto, and she worked as a nurse at the same hospital. It had been love at first sight for him. She was a six-foot-tall, beautiful woman with curly brown hair. He found her light brown eyes mesmerizing; he forgets himself whenever he stares into her eyes. She had a grace about her, and she was courteous to all those around her. The fact that she accepted to date him despite his average height and average looks always made him grateful to her. That she loved him and stayed true to him during the past four years is something he has never taken for granted. They had only dated for a few months when his internship came to an end and he had to move to Chicago for his residency program. It hurt to leave her back in Toronto. He was glad that she understood why he had to leave, and they had agreed that he would move back to Toronto after his residency program. She couldn’t leave Toronto because she had elderly parents she had to take care of.
“I’m at a payphone, trying to call home....”, a song by Maroon 5 started to play; it was his ringing tone. Dylan checked his phone, and it had a strange number. Picking it up, he said, ‘Hello?’
'Hello, good evening. Is this Dylan Brownstone?’, the caller asked.
‘Yes?’, he answered apprehensively.
‘Okay. Do you know Bessy Evans?’
‘Yes’, he whispered.
‘Alright? Can you find your way to Mercy Hospital on Michigan Avenue? I am so sorry. Bessy has been involved in an accident. The bus was in a head-on collision with a truck carrying cement. She might need surgery, so we need you here as soon as possible. You were listed as her emergency contact…..’
He couldn't remember hearing anything else after that until the call dropped. He could only think, ‘Mercy Hospital. Mercy hospital. I need to get there. I need to go meet Bessy’. He remembered their argument two days before. He wanted her to take the plane, but Bessy wanted a bus ride, saying she hasn’t left Toronto in years and that she will prefer a bus ride, believing that it’ll be like a road trip. He wished that he had tried harder to convince her. His body went into panic mode, and he started to breathe heavily while waving frantically for a cab. He got one after twenty minutes of searching, as most drivers didn't want to have to go that far. He didn’t have a car and couldn’t go back home to get his powerbike; even if he had, he surely couldn’t drive in his state.
The journey to Mercy Hospital took so long; that was how he felt. He wanted to fly over there, but he couldn’t. Arriving at the hospital, he paid the cab driver, alighted, and then ran into the Accidents and Emergency section, where he stated who he was and what he was there for. A nurse's aide took him to her bedside, which was in the farthest corner of the room. 'This hospital is busy tonight', he thought sadly.
‘Code blue! Get me a crash cart!’. Dylan was still walking briskly to her bedside when he heard this. He didn’t know that the code blue was meant for his Bessy until he saw a Doctor tear open her dress shirt, forcing the buttons loose. ‘Bessy was having a cardiac arrest!’, he thought in shock. He got to her bedside and stood still with his palms covering his mouth. He wanted to scream. His breathing was heavy and erratic, and his head was pounding so hard that he felt that it might explode. They were able to revive her after shocking her three times.
The results of her lab tests and imaging came back. ‘She needs surgery. It is a brain bleed; we have to stop it. Call neurosurgery’, a Doctor said while others went to prepare her for emergency surgery. The doctor explained all that happened to Dylan and told him he could follow her to the entrance of the operating room, and after that, he'd have to stay in the waiting room to receive any update as regards the progress of the surgery. In this case, he wasn't the surgeon; he was the patient's relative, and he suddenly understood what the relatives of his patients go through in situations such as this.
He could only hold Bessy’s hands until they got to the entrance of the operating theater; she wasn’t awake. Letting go of Bessy’s hand at that moment was the toughest thing he'd had to do in a long while. He stood right there for a while and then proceeded to the waiting room. It was 1:30 a.m., and Dylan could still not believe that a night when he was supposed to spend with Bessy, showing her just how much he'd missed her could end this way. He was lucky that he had a day off today. He wanted to spend it with her doing whatever she wanted, but here he was, with her, in a hospital. He knew the surgery would take at least seven hours, so he sat and just waited. He thought about the day he met her and every single date they'd had. He wished he had stayed back in Toronto, but he also had to make something of himself and be worthy of her.
A Doctor came to give him an update as regards the surgery every two hours, and by 9 a.m., he was told that the surgery was finished and successful. He heaved a sigh of relief, feeling the burden being lifted from his shoulders and the tightening he felt in his chest released. He stepped to the window side, looked up to the sky, and thanked the heavens for a chance at life again for Bessy. They took him to her ward, and he never left her side until she woke up.
‘Hey beautiful’, he said softly to Bessy. She smiled, ‘Hey’. Dylan started to caress her head and tell her how beautiful and strong she was.
‘I will have to change my location soon, Bess. I am not sure I want to go through this again, and I wouldn’t want to put you through this either’.
Bessy could only laugh; it was sweet music to his ears. ‘Bessy is alive, and she’s here with me’, he thought, feeling very happy indeed.