The Waiting

By Robert Greco

What if you found yourself in a coma, unable to move or speak. What if you were really "there" behind that blank stare but nobody knew it. Jon Campanni, a world famous poet known as William Wythe in the literary world, is plunged into a coma after a car accident at the peak of his career. Brought to a state of the art neurology center in La Jolla, California, he is kept in optimal physical shape by the hospital's chief neurologist. His world becomes one of noises and shadows, existing only as thought in the synapses of his mind, buried deep within a body he can barely feel and can no longer move. Jon Campanni is cared for nightly by a young nurse, who drawing on past knowledge of holistic medicine, helps accelerate his healing. Life recurrence, and with it the possibility of time as a circle rather than a line, the story takes unexpected turns as the unlikely destiny of two people driven together by misfortune discover each other as true soul mates.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Apr 7, 2011
• ISBN: 9781257452354

Book preview

Petty

The Prologue

Time is an illusion, experienced as life woven throughout the fabric of the universe within our minds. Measured by its usefulness time is made possible by the arbitrary rotation of a planet called Earth, orbiting around a mediocre sun at a distance where it has become possible for life to exist. Having evolved into creatures of consciousness, we have divided these orbits into years, and the years by days, and the days by hours, and minutes, and so on, in hopes of giving ourselves the appearance of a harmonious and peaceful stability, and with it the illusion of forever.

However, if the universe and its endless cycles of orbits teaches us anything, it is that it does not move in a line, but in a circle, and it is not what stays the same each time we pass around that really matters, but what can be changed.

The Waiting

Memorial Hospital Emergency Room – La Jolla, CA.

Adrenaline, 300 milligrams!

Yes, Doctor. He has a rapid heart beat.

Reading?

Approaching 140.

Tachycardia, more oxygen.

He’s V-fib, we’re losing him!

EKG?

Flatline.

Time?

1:18 a.m.

Defibrillator, stat!

Joules?

120. Pads ready. Charge. Clear!

The body jerked violently.

Nothing.

Again, take it to 360!

360? But…

Don’t question me, nurse!

Yes, Doctor.

Charge! Clear!

There was the smell of burning flesh.

We have a pulse, it’s stabilizing.

EEG?

He’s still unconscious. There’s little brain activity.

All we can do now is wait.

Those last words sounded so foreign, so sudden, so final. There was the slightest sensation of pressure as the nurse adjusted the tape that held the electrode sensors to his head and chest. There is no pain, he thought.

Marco Advertising - San Diego, CA. – Late Night

You have a call. From the hospital, her assistant added. Gina Campanni’s senses became dull and flat. She picked up the phone and heard a voice tell her that her husband had been in an accident. Things began to take on an air of unreality. Her limbs felt heavy and everything moved in slow motion. She glanced at her desk wondering if she should shut down her computer before leaving.

My keys, she said, searching her desk drawers. Where did I put my keys?

A woman appeared next to her. Did you check your pockets, Gina? she asked. Reaching deep into her coat the keys appeared in her hand. See there, you have them. Now go, it’s already late. I’ll finish up here. Are you sure you’re going to be okay?

I’ll be alright, thanks.

Gina passed by the night cleaning crew in a hurry, her pace increasing as she reached the elevators. She hit the button and looked up. The indicator above the Art Deco style doors showed the nearest car still on the third level, thirteen floors below her. She stared mindlessly at the elaborate pedestal ashtrays to the side of the doors as she waited. The company insignia Marco pressed firmly in the sand was still undisturbed. Smoking had been outlawed in the building years ago, but she had never even noticed they were there before. A few seconds later, the doors opened with a whoosh. She stepped inside.

Santa Barbara, CA. - 5 Years Earlier

The morning air off the balcony of the Hotel Andaluci was crisp and salty. Carrillo Street below was just beginning to show signs of early morning tourist life. Delivery trucks pulled in and out of alleyways and young couples read breakfast menus from the numerous street cafes while sipping hot cappuccinos.

Jon, I’ve been thinking, Gina said. He didn’t answer. She set down her champagne glass and glanced across the top of her magazine at his body language. "Receptive," she thought.

He was still reading the paper, a coffee in one hand, and the Wall Street Journal in the other.

Jon?

I’m sorry. What is it, Gina?

I’ve been thinking. Maybe it’s time we tried again.

Tried what? he muttered, nervously clearing his throat.

A family, Jon.

He brought the coffee to his lips, took a long slow sip, and then set the cup down on the table.

Family? We already are a family, you, and me, and Max. He’s family enough for the both of us. Don’t you think?

I’m not talking about the dog, Jon!

I know what you mean. But, do you really think we should try again so soon? I mean a family… right now? I’m still struggling to secure our future and you’re almost an MBA for Christ’s sake! Don’t you want a career first? His body language quickly changed from receptive to defensive with arms crossed and a stern frown.

She softened the tone of her voice. You’re the better part of thirty-three now. It’s never the right time. Besides, my mother had three children by the time she was my age.

You’re only twenty-eight. That’s not that old. And your mother was a housewife.

There’s no shame in that, you know! she said, raising her voice again.

That’s not what I mean. She didn’t just spend the last four years of her life earning a master’s degree while struggling to become a successful advertising executive. Do you really want to thwart that effort by being a wife and a mom too? There are plenty of working moms in the world, but very few career-oriented mothers. There’s a big difference. At some point one or the other will suffer.

It’s rare that I have night meetings. I meet most of my clients by phone these days and proposals and marketing campaigns by the web or email are well-accepted procedures. It’s not that I don’t like what I do. I just think a baby would somehow… make it all complete.

Complete? Jon tossed the paper down on the patio table and stopped himself before he ranted on about how busy and complicated their lives already were. He tried to relax his shoulders by uncrossing his arms and rolling his head slowly around the axis of his neck once. I guess we could start thinking about it again.

This is our fifth anniversary, honey. Why wait? She picked up a chocolate covered strawberry from a tray on the table, slid it seductively between her lips, and lowered the magazine to reveal an exposed cleavage. He looked at her with a blood-fueled smile. She smiled too and took another sip of champagne, relieved in knowing she was already five days late for her period.

Memorial Hospital ICU - 2:00AM

The night nurse was just leaving the room when the doors flew open. We almost lost him. We had to shock him back, said Dr. Richard Resnek. He has been sedated for a while now and is resting comfortably. There’s some bad news though, Mrs. Campanni. He’s in a coma and we don’t have a lot of brain wave activity on him.

Oh my God, Gina said, wiping the tears streaming down her face as she followed him.

We don’t know the severity of his injuries yet. The good news is he’s alive. Sometimes these things take time. He’ll stay in ICU for a while where we can monitor him. I’ll be by in the morning to check in. The nurses will notify me immediately if there is any change in his condition. You’re welcome to stay with him as long as you want.

Thank you, Doctor Resnek.

One other thing, Mrs. Campanni, he said as he reached the door. "We thought we heard him mumble something before he flatlined last night. It sounded like ‘Vantanformig’. Does that mean anything to you?"

No, I don’t know what it means, she replied.

He nodded, then turned and left, and with him went all the human noises. The room grew silent. Only the sounds of monitoring equipment could be heard, the beeps and hums of devices whose pulses on a small green screen represented the only quantifiable difference between life and death.

Gina slowly approached the bed. He looked asleep, peacefully asleep as if this was all just a bad dream and would wake up any second and tell her about it. She reached for his hand. It was soft and warm, no tension in any of his fingers. His pulse was strong and his eyelids occasionally flickered.

Jon, she whispered, Can you hear me? His hand jerked for a second. Jon if you can hear me please move your hand again. However, there was nothing, no movement at all.

She sat in the chair next to the bed watching him all night, dazed and occasionally dozing off only to be startled by the rush of emergency crews as they fought for the lives of other unlucky patrons just a few feet away. In that time, she allowed her mind to ponder the most gruesome scenarios about his accident. How did it happen? Did he suffer much? Maybe somewhere deep down he wanted to find a way out. Maybe somehow she wanted a way out. However, not like this, not so suddenly, not before they had settled so many unspoken things. Whatever the reason it wasn’t important because it didn’t resolve any of the current problems. It just made things worse. All she could do was wait.

He knew she was there and could see her face even though he could not open his eyes. He had seen it thousands of times before, watched it grow and change. He had studied it, caressed it, kissed it. There was a perfect picture of it in his mind. How could he ever forget it? There was so much history between them.

La Jolla, CA - Childhood

Jon and his little brother Danny were playing in the fields near the San Diego county suburb where they grew up. They had come upon a tall cliff formed by years of watershed erosion that separated one side of the creek bed from the other. It was just the right height for a young boy to prove his worthiness by attempting to climb it. Soon several other kids joined in and even his older sister and her friends showed up to tease and taunt the young male suburban warriors.

You go first and I’ll go after you, Jon said to Danny.

Why do I have to go first? he protested.

Little brothers always go first. It says so in the Bible. Jon tried not to smile.

It does? Danny questioned, his biblical innocence unintentionally rolling off his tongue. Everyone laughed. In anger, he grabbed the first handhold and started up the cliff, but within seconds fell back down with a thud to the sand below. He almost made it half way, not bad for a seven-year-old fueled by the fury of never being taken seriously.

Now it’s my turn, Jon said. He clasped his hands together after applying a fine dust primer and started up the cliff. Following the same path, he soon noticed the distance between potential grabbing and standing points was a bit further apart than his brother could have reached. He slipped several times and was forced to take a rather large bruise on the hip or fall almost twenty feet below. Once at the top, everyone cheered as he basked in his manly right of passage.

Next up was a kid named Spike. Nobody knew what his real name was, but his hair always stood straight up. No amount of oil or gel could keep it down. It just defied gravity. Jon was busy bragging about the best route to take when he heard his sister’s scream.

Oh my God, he fell all the way down! she yelled. Jon ran to the cliff’s edge and peered over. There was Spike, lying in one of the positions you see in a police homicide investigation. He wasn’t moving and his legs and arms went in different directions. All of the sudden Jon felt as if he was going to pass out. He became dizzy and his vision was getting blurry. That’s when everyone else started yelling and laughing.

Ah-ha, you believed it. What a fool! They had planned the cruel joke all along. Jon was startled and turned bright red in the face. His stomach felt sick and his knees began to shake. He glanced at his little brother who surprisingly enough gave him a look of sympathy. Jon ran home faster than he ever had before.

Gina who always seemed much older than she was had just turned eight, one year older than Danny and lived three doors down from them. Her parents were divorced and her mother had moved her and her two sisters to La Jolla from Indianapolis several years earlier. She was a tall lanky girl, smart, sassy, with reddish brown hair, and blue eyes. She had liked Jon since the day she first met him. He was funny and quicker witted than the other boys her age were and even though almost four years older still treated her fairly decent. She often came to play with Danny just so she could see him, secretly adoring him from a distance. She was sitting on his doorstep waiting for someone to come home.

Gina saw that Jon was distraught even though he tried to cover it up by quickly darting through the door.

Are you all right, Jon? she asked as he ran by. He said nothing and continued up the stairs. She followed him, stopping by the bathroom to prepare a warm washcloth, then came to his room and tried to wipe his tears.

I’m fine, leave me alone, he bellowed.

Its okay, Jon. I’ll take care of you. I won’t tell anyone I saw you cry.

Memorial Hospital ICU - 7:30 AM

Gina was startled awake by the sound of nurses in the room. Good morning, one said. Can we get you anything?

No, thank you. I’m fine, she replied.

They took monitor readings and hooked nutrients and medicine to Jon’s feeding tubes. They adjusted his head on the pillow and wiped drool from the corner of his mouth.

Well, if you do need anything we’ll be down the hall at the nurses’ station. She gave the sheet on the bed once last tug before leaving the room.

Jon had light stubble on his face and his hair went in every direction. He lay lifeless in the last position gravity had pulled him in. It made her realize how often she worried about how she looked when in the presence of others, always straightening her hair or her posture. How shallow I am, she thought. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. You hold on, Jon Campanni. You’re not getting out of this so easy, and kissed him on the forehead.

Mrs. Campanni, Hello, said Dr. Resnek coming through the door. You’ve been here all night?

Yes.

May I speak with you for a few moments?

Of course, what is it?

I’ve reviewed the results of the preliminary tests we ran last night. We’re going to need to keep him here for quite a while. His spinal cord is severely injured and his head took a major blow. Even if he does survive this he may not be able to move some parts of his body and his brain may be permanently damaged.

What are you saying, Doctor? Jon may be a vegetable?

It’s way too early to know anything conclusive. Unfortunately, only time will tell. I’m going to give you some information to look over that will help explain his condition, along with phone numbers of support groups who can help you through this. This is not going to be easy for you, Mrs. Campanni. In fact, it may be quite a burden, not only emotionally but financially as well. How long have you been married?

She paused for a moment staring at Jon. All our life, she muttered.

Let me get someone to drive you home. You really should get some rest.

She grabbed her coat and purse from the chair. I can drive myself. I’ll be fine. Thank you again, Doctor.

I’ll call you later after my rounds and we can discuss the results in more detail. If you need to talk, Mrs. Campanni… What I mean is… it’s not easy for people to adjust to this. It takes time to come to grips with the possibility things may never be the same again.

Memorial Hospital – 4 Months Later

"What kind of a God would take from a man his life, but give him not death?"

Almost every night for the last few months, Jon had many strange dreams. The dreams would always start the same way, with him falling. Forever falling and falling. Above him was a beautiful blue sky filled with numerous types of colorful birds darting in every direction. Below him was always nothing, cold, empty, dark nothingness. He would cry out, but only in his mind. His lips would not move. He was helpless. After some time he began to believe if only he could move his arms, it would break his fall.

Every night the dream returned he struggled to move them, pushing further and further, harder and harder. One night he felt his arms budge. The falling slowed but did not stop. Suddenly he felt on fire, as if his blood was burning.

Gina got a call from a nurse at three o’clock in the morning telling her Jon’s blood pressure was dropping and he would most likely not make it through the night. They also told her that the latest EEG test was not good and showed what few brain waves he did have were diminishing.

When she got there, his blood pressure had returned to within normal limits. They had given him some kind of medicine that brought it back up. They also gave him a blood transfusion because he had a low blood count. From the way the nurse had spoken to her on the phone, she thought this was it; he was dying. It turned out he had only contracted a urinary infection.

His vital signs are looking good, the doctor said. His fever has subsided.

Gina broke down into tears. I can’t keep living like this. I’m never going to make it. I’m always wondering whether he’s ever going to come out of it, whether or not he could die at any moment. A day doesn’t go by that I don’t pray to God asking for answers for why this has happened. I want to know if he’s alive in there. If he knows he exists. If he knows I exist.

Doctor Resnek held her shoulders. These are normal thoughts and feelings. Remember that just like in death a surviving loved one has stages to go through. You have already experienced denial and are now in the anger stage. However, there is still depression before acceptance and that stage can be the hardest one of all. His EEG waves can still change and there have been numerous accounts of brains recovering from trauma over long periods of time. Coma is a relatively unknown state. I’m sorry, Gina. All the best medical attention in the world can’t tell us if he’s aware of anything. I believe Jon has a fighting chance, but that chance will diminish over time. He paused, noticing the look of despair on her face and body posture.

Look, Gina. I know this is hard on you. Nevertheless, we can’t lose hope, not yet. After all, when science is done hope is all we have left.

Thanks again, Dr. Resnek, she said, nervously. He helped her on with her coat. His hands lingered on her shoulders.

You know, Gina. I’ve recently read about some breakthroughs in coma patient therapy being done by a Doctor Borhn at the University of Stockholm in Sweden. They’re using stem cells to rejuvenate spinal tissue. If you’re interested maybe we can talk about it sometime.

Yes, of course, Dr. Resnek. Goodnight..

CHAPTER II

The Skeletons

One Year Later

Congratulations Gina, the banner read that hung on the wall of the posh uptown restaurant, "Executive Vice President of Marco Advertising, she thought to herself, Not bad for a career-oriented Mom." Everyone from the office was there. Jim Marco, her boss and President of the company announced her promotion personally and handed her an envelope containing a large bonus. She should be happy about the accomplishment. She had struggled long and hard to get there, endless nights of preparing for high profile client meetings and presentations. She could never have done it without a strong will and determination to succeed. Everyone in the company knew the difficult circumstance she was in and admired her strength of mind and ability to keep it together.

"Who am I kidding?" she thought. "I would have never been able to do it without Jon." He was the one that worked two jobs to support them while she was in graduate school. He was still relatively unknown then, little of his work had been published. He moonlighted as a graphic artist and photographer to pay the bills. Without his encouragement, she would never have any of this, and now he couldn’t even be there to celebrate it with her.

The party waned after a few hours and most of the others left to return home to their families for the evening.

I’m happy for you, even if you’re not feeling so happy, her assistant Karen said, pouring them both a glass of champagne.

I am happy. I guess I’m happy.

They toasted glasses, when suddenly Gina became pale.

What is it?

Champagne, she blurted, It reminds me of something dreadful.

What? Karen asked.

It’s nothing, really. I was just thinking…

Tell me! she prodded. Come on, Gina. Maybe you need a friend you can talk to right now. I’ve been pretty close to you these last few years, but I’ve never heard you speak about anything very much. You can tell me, really. What’s bothering you?

Look, Gina said, unsure if she should even mention it. Once she spoke, she could never go back. That thought now weighed heavy on her mind.

I’ve never told anyone this before and I shouldn’t be telling you now. She set down her champagne glass, put her hands squarely on Karen’s shoulders and looked directly into her eyes. Promise me you will never tell a soul. I’ve had this on my chest for a long, long time.

Of course, I promise. What is it?

I had an affair.

What? You’re kidding me, recently?

No, it happened a long time ago. Nevertheless, that’s not the half of it. Jon and I have known each other for most of our lives, but we had only been married for a few years. I was still in graduate school. There was this professor. He was smart and cute and had a very powerful presence. He had this way of talking to you, looking right through you as if he could read your mind. Making you feel special. I know, clichés, every one of them. However, he did have a charisma that just drew you in. Every girl was in love with him. It was stupid. I should have known better. I was no different from all the other young female students he was sleeping with. I don’t know what I was thinking. I just couldn’t help myself. It wasn’t as if things with Jon and me were that bad at the time. We had our issues, but we loved each other very much. I’ve always loved him as far back as I can remember. That’s what made it all the more confusing.

Did you ever tell Jon?

"No, but he suspected something later when it became known in the papers that one of my psychology professors had knocked up several of his female students.

But, why would he suspect… Oh, my God, Gina, no!

It gets even worse than that! Intuition told me I was pregnant when Jon and I were on an anniversary getaway in Santa Barbara. I talked him into trying to conceive a baby that weekend even though we already knew it would be difficult due to his sperm count was close to zero. We had tried so many times before, but with no luck. Eventually we just stopped trying.

Trying to get pregnant? Karen asked.

We stopped trying to have sex. It depressed him so much he became impaired, almost impotent. So when I was late for my period, I panicked!

Why didn’t you get an abortion?

I thought about it, that’s for sure. During those first couple of days after our weekend away, he had warmed up to the idea and the sex was great again. He was even looking forward to having a baby. I wanted a child so bad and the chances of us conceiving were extremely remote. I finally surrendered to the idea of it being an opportunity, without the stress and cost of trying a scientific approach for years and then probably having to adopt anyway. He was surprised that I was pregnant right away and felt a sense of masculinity I hadn’t seen in him in a long time.

Does your son know?

Are you kidding me? He loves Jon so much it would crush him. He’s having a hard enough time dealing with the accident. He doesn’t remember very much of him before it. No, the only people who know are you and I, and I plan to keep it that way! Oh Jesus, Karen, Gina said starting to cry, I have wronged him so much.

Memorial Hospital – Late Night Shift

No way, Doctor Sturgis had the nerve to say that to you? What an ass, the nurse said, straightening out the bed sheets.

I know. Do you believe that? It wasn’t as if I knew Dr. Warner was married. He lied about that too! The nurse tapped the intravenous tube with a long manicured fingernail. Could you adjust his pillow? We need to roll him on his side. Bed sores! That’s the biggest problem with comas, that and infections. How long have you been here at Memorial anyway?

Two weeks. This is my first night in the coma ward. It’s still all so new to me. Even though I interned for six months over at County, I still have a little trouble with blood.

We all did, you’ll get over it. I’m Christi Holstrum.

Hi, I’m Philomena Fortano, Mena for short. But your name tag says Tina?

I know. I was late and forgot my smock, again! I borrowed this one from Tina McNeil. She’s a stuffy old hag that works the day shift. She always leaves it in the break room when she’s off. I like pretending I’m other people, Tina, Kim, Audrey, anyone who leaves their smock lying around. I’m always late.

Don’t you get in trouble for that? Mena asked.

Trouble, are you kidding me? So many young blonde nurses go through this place in a year you can be whomever you want and no one would ever know the difference. As matter of fact, she said, in a Scarlet O’Hara southern drawl, I rather fancy role playing.

Why yes, Miss Tina. I do declare, Mena mimicked.

Christi tossed her hair and shoulders back and pressed her full bosom tightly against the nurse’s smock. Y’all see… I can make these boring night shifts quite entertainin’ round here.

Oh, my God! Mena gasped.

Christi snapped out of character. What is it?

He just smiled. That was really creepy. I thought they couldn’t move?

Comas can do all sorts of stuff, you’ll be amazed. Some smile, some frown. I’ve even seen a few cry, grown men and women weeping like babies.

Sounds kind of sad.

Christi smirked. You’ll get used to them. Sometimes they can be quite amusing. One thing’s for sure, she said raising her voice. You don’t have to worry about waking them up!

They both laughed. This one is kind of cute though, huh? She slowly ran her fingernails down his chest and stomach.

That’s just sick, Christi, said Mena, outraged. He’s not only logically inconsequent, he’s almost twice your age!

Yeah, but he’s a good-looking old invalid, isn’t he? Such a shame to let all that manliness go to waste.

Mena was becoming concerned that her new friend might be a lunatic. You’re kidding me, right?

Just stick with me kid. I’ll show you things you won’t believe. You do have to be careful though. She stilled her lips and nodding towards the bed, murmured, Nosey bodies, everywhere!

La Jolla, CA – Childhood

When Jon was young, he and his friends used to get a kick out of scaring people. They didn’t know it at the time, but that’s really what it was. They thought they were just having fun. Making elaborate dummies out of their dad’s old Pendleton shirts and Levi jeans and using wigs on Styrofoam heads from their mother’s closet, they would plan the most hideous practical jokes. Jon’s sister, who was a good artist, painted faces on these manikins, complete with the red blood of accident victims. Strapping their hands and feet to bicycles, they launched them down steep streets into curbs and buildings. The wrecks were satisfying to hormonal young boys, lifeless bodies forced into unnatural positions. People who witnessed these antics would freak and many times furious adults chased after them threatening to call the police.

Once, they tied a dummy to the end of a long rope and waited for the five-o’clock commuter train to pass under the Third Street Bridge. When the engine had gone by, they quickly threw the mangled torso down, dangling it, as if someone had just hung themselves. It bounced violently against the windows of the passenger cars.

They never thought much about the people on the trains, how they must have felt or reacted, whether or not they were terrified or traumatized. They just laughed.