Two hours passed and we hadn’t heard anything, making Ellie so nervous she was looking pale.
I stood and marched over to the nurse’s desk. “Anything?” I asked as nicely as I could.
“Let me check,” she said, incensing me.
I stood by the doors, my arms crossed, and waited, again.
She came back ten minutes later. “I’m sorry, but she was moved to the Critical Care Unit more than half an hour ago.”
“What the hell?! Ellie,” I said, turning toward her, “she’s in CCU.”
I ignored the nurse when she tried to give us directions.
“I’ll just follow the signs,” I told her.
I supported Ellie’s arm in the elevator and guided her down the hall toward the Critical Care Unit sign.
“Can I help you?” a nurse asked as we approached.
“Yes, we’re looking for a patient. Her name’s Caroline Hunt.”
“Oh yes, she’s in room seven.”
“Is she,” I swallowed, “okay?”
“I believe so,” she said, smiling.
Ellie fell a little bit against me in relief, breaking my heart. “Thank God,” I said.
“Thank God, indeed,” she smiled.
We approached the room slowly, hoping not to wake her if she was asleep, and slid the large glass door open. I slid the curtain back a little and took in Cricket.
She leaned forward a bit and smiled at the both of us, though she looked pale beyond belief and her hair was rustled.
“Hi,” she said cheerfully.
“Oh God, Cricket,” I nearly broke down, hugging her. I kissed the top of her head, side of her face and lips. “You scared us to death.”
“It’s okay,” she told us. “I’m okay.”
“You’re not,” I told her, gesturing to her bed.
She was hooked up to numerous machines, and it was overwhelming me.
I realized I had taken over Cricket when Ellie appeared at my side. “I’m so sorry, Ellie,” I told her, making way for her.
“Granddaughter,” she said softly, “which doctor have you spoken to?”
“Caldwell was here earlier but he left. He’ll be back soon though and explain it all.”
I’d forgotten that they probably knew the physicians there, that they’d been struggling with this for who knows how many years. I looked about the room and grabbed a chair for Ellie and she sat. I wheeled the doctor’s chair over to the side of Cricket’s bed and held her hand.
“I wish you’d told me,” I said.
A tear escaped. “If I had told you, you would have seen the sick me and not the real me. I loved so much that you saw me for me. I loved that you didn’t cut me slack or make excuses for me. I loved that you called me out.”
“I’m so sorry,” I told her, bringing her hand to my lips. “I am so sorry for the insensitive things I’ve done and said.”