Henry spoke. “Hi, I’m Henry Harper. My father, Joe Harper, was admitted to your department not too long ago.”
The nurse looked up and smiled slightly, trying to be friendly, but this was intensive care. She knew you had to tread lightly with grieving worried relatives.
“Hello, Mr. Harper. Yes, he was admitted about 20 minutes ago. I don’t have much information for you at the moment, but the doctors are with him right now and he is stable. But that is all we know at the moment. A doctor will be out to talk to you soon, ok?”
Henry asked, “Do you know what happened to him? Was it a heart attack?”
The nurse replied, “I’m sorry, we don’t exactly know yet, but it appears to have been a stroke.”
Henry smiled and nodded his head at the nurse and said, “Thank you.“
He walked back and sat down heavily in the chair next to his wife, placing his arms on his elbows on his knees, leaning the weight of his upper body on his thighs. He breathed a heavy breath out to relax his nerves and calm himself down. He’d been racing ever since the golf course and this was the first time he was able to think about the gravity of the situation. Gwen gently rubbed his mid-back and looked at him, trying to get eye contact to talk to him and to console him.
“Did they let you know what happened?”
Henry replied, “They don’t really know but he is stable. They think it was a stroke.”
“Is he going to be ok?”
Henry breathed heavily again and looked up, connecting his eye with hers. “I don’t know, honey. She said a doctor will be out soon to talk to us.”
Across from them, the boys were sitting next to their sister. Both had grabbed a magazine. Andrew had picked up Sports Illustrated and Paul had picked up People. Both were flipping through, looking at the pictures only, both more interested in the other’s choice than the magazine they had chosen. Lisa had picked up a People as well but was engrossed in reading an article about Jenifer Aniston with great intent.
Andrew looked up and saw that his dad had finished talking with his mom. “Is Pop Pop ok?”
This drew attention from Lisa and Paul. Both looked at their dad, waiting for a response.
Henry looked at all three of his children with love in his eye and sadness behind his voice that they may not get to experience their beloved Pop Pop in the same way again. His voice cracked with nervousness as he answered, “Pop Pop is stable, kids. We don’t really know much else beyond that.”
Lisa, being the one who had called 911 and finding him first, was very intrigued and asked the question, “What happened to him?”
Henry responded with reluctance. “They don’t quite know but it was potentially a stroke.”
Young Paul, being only nine and being more comfortable to ask his mom, looked at Gwen. “Mom, what is a stroke?”
At that moment, Lee and Linda walked into the waiting room. Gwen started to respond to the question but saw them and asked her daughter, “Lisa, can you please tell your brother what a stroke is while I go and talk to your aunt?” with a voice of annoyance, but as she finished her sentence, she realized she had left the description of a stroke to an eight-year-old to a 13-year-old. But by the time her brain had comprehended what she had asked, she was already standing up to go and see her brother and sister-in-law.
Lisa, with great surprise and respect, could not believe her mom had just asked her to do this. Her mom had progressively been giving her duties to help with her brothers and just recently had trusted her to look after her brothers when Pop Pop was busy, but her trial solo babysitting had not taken place yet, as Pop Pop had always been available. But just knowing the trust and confidence her parents put in her to look after her brothers gave her great joy. She turned and looked at her brother, who was anxiously waiting to hear what a stroke was. Lisa knew but didn’t know exactly how to describe it.
She started. “Paul, you remember last year when the toilet got blocked up in the basement and water flooded the downstairs?”
Paul looked at her and laughed. “Yeah, I remember the carpet stunk for weeks and we had to get those big fans in that dried the carpet but made an awful noise. Our house smelled weird for weeks.”
Lisa looked at him. “Do you know why the toilet got blocked up?”
Paul thought for a second and said, “They said there was a blockage from roots and the doll’s head me and Andrew flushed down the toilet.”
Lisa remembered and kind of smiled but she was still a bit angry because her little brother had ruined her doll. But she was getting a bit old for dolls, so she responded with acknowledgment. “Exactly. Well, a stroke is kind of like that doll’s head. It is an object known as a clot from another part of the body that is stuck in the pipes of Pop Pop’s brain.”
Paul thought for a second and nodded with understanding. “So what happens when there is a clot plugging up the pipes?”
Lisa thought for a second, and, trying to stick to the analogy, continued. “Well, just as the head blocked the water from getting through the drain, the clot prevents blood from getting past and the plumber fixed it the Doctors are going to do the same.” When she said this, she realized how dangerous a stroke was and a look of worry rushed over her face.
Paul asked, “What is going to happen to Pop Pop now?”
Lisa, smart enough to console her brother, lied. “Pop Pop is going to be fine, Paul.”
But a look of worry came over her face. She did not know if Pop Pop was going to be fine, and the more her brain analyzed the facts of the seriousness of a stroke and the state she saw him in, she started to doubt that Pop Pop would indeed be fine. She looked over and caught a glimpse of her mother, who was talking with Lee and Linda. Her mother looked over periodically, trying to figure out how well Lisa had done with the task of discussing a stroke with her younger brother, knowing that she had probably made a poor decision. And as soon as there was a lull in the conversation, she returned to Lisa, who had a look of fright on her face as she contemplated the seriousness of Pop Pop’s condition.
Lisa was staring into space, not noticing anything at all, just allowing her eyes to focus on the tired painting of an overweight chief of medicine that had worked from 1965-1985. Her mother returned and sat next to her. She was so focused on the thoughts in her own brain that she barely recognized her mother had just sat down next to her. Gwen placed her arm around her daughter’s shoulder and reached up and brushed her wavy brunette hair around her ear.
“Is everything ok? How did you get on describing a stroke to Paul?”
Lisa, once she heard her mom, snapped out of her pondering. She shook her body slightly to get out of the internal labyrinth she had wandered into.
“I’m fine. It went well. Pauli understood.” She paused for a second, then looked up with the same frightened look that had overcome her once she thought of the seriousness of Pop Pop’s condition. She looked into her mother’s eyes, which had the same look, just not as intently frightened as Lisa’s, and asked, “Mom is Pop Pop going to be ok?”
This immediately drove Gwen’s eyes to register a level of fear and panic equivalent to Lisa’s. “I don’t know, honey. We haven’t heard from the doctors yet.” Trying to be consoling, just as Lisa had with her brother, she added, “I’m