“I want to go with her.”
He puts his hand on my shoulder, the other on my chest to hold me back. “They’re not gonna let you in the ambulance while you’re losing your shit.”
Realizing he’s right, I apologize to the medic I was harassing and follow them outside. Other students have filled the perimeter of the dorm to gawk at Sophie like she’s on display. I’m relieved they don’t have to take her all the way up the hill. Instead, they’ve already driven the ambulance around to the delivery entrance.
“You’re good?” Drew asks. “We’ll follow you in my car to the hospital, okay?”
“Yeah. Make sure my sister’s okay, Drew.”
“I will, man. She’s my number one.”
Climbing in the back of the ambulance, I can’t handle the site of Sophie lying helpless and unconscious. Praying to God my girl will wake up, the doors slam and I sit in silence, horrified that I wasn’t there to help her sooner.
“Kipton is it?” The medic asks.
“Yes, my name’s Kipton.”
“I’m going to need whatever information you can give me about her, okay?”
“Sure, yeah. Okay.” We hit a few bumps and I’m tossed around. Holding onto the side wall of the ambulance, I steady myself.
“Has she ever passed out before? Any previous conditions that could have caused this?”
“I don’t think she’s passed out before. She gets lightheaded sometimes.” He jots down my comments on the clipboard.
“Do you know any of her medical history? Anything we should know?”
“Shit, she had a concussion a few months back. She hit her head pretty bad. I know she’s been having migraines and getting dizzy still. But she said it was getting better each week. Could that be what caused this?”
“It could have, I can’t rule that out. But let’s let the doctors examine her before we jump to any conclusions. The important thing is that although she’s unconscious, her vitals are stable. That’s a great sign.”
Thank God for that.
“Is there anything else I should put on her paperwork, Kipton?”
“No. I don’t think so. She doesn’t take medicine for anything. But I’m not sure of her allergies. Shit, I should know that.” I run my hands through my hair, frustrated that I don’t know everything about the girl I love. I rest my head against the wall of the ambulance and close my eyes. I open them when I remember more. “She’s in therapy, too, because she throws up. Between the concussion and her past, she’s been having a hell of a time.” I ramble. He adds my comments to her list and scans my face wearily making me even more nervous than I already am.
I can’t see out the window and each turn seems to be taking forever. “Are we soon there?”
“Yes, it won’t be more than a minute. You did well, Kipton. Thank you.”
“She’s not crazy,” I blurt out.
“I didn’t say she was. But the doctors will make sure she has everything she needs once she’s inside. After that, it’s up to her.”
I glance at Sophie, silently pleading with her to wake up; to open her eyes and show me she’s okay. But she doesn’t. Fight, beautiful.
Arriving outside the emergency room, I hop out of the ambulance the second the doors open. They pull Sophie alongside me and rush inside. I’m stopped before I make it to her room. “Young man, you’ll need to wait in the waiting area. The doctors will address you after they tend to her.”
“I don’t want to leave her,” I protest.
“I promise she will be okay. Have a seat and I’ll update you the second they give word about her condition.”
I’m pushed out and left staring at the rustling curtain divider. A nurse escorts me into the sterile waiting room. “Kippy, is she okay?” Cara rushes to my side and hangs on my arm. I wrap it around her needing the comfort as much as she does.
“I don’t know. She never woke up.” We sit in a couple uncomfortable chairs next to the vending machines. Drew sits Cara on his lap and holds her. The sight of them together makes me want Sophie.
“She’ll wake up, guys. She’s tough. Just give her a little time,” Drew adds.
“I called Mom, Kipton. She’s on her way.”
I’m surprised, but I shouldn’t be. My mom took to Sophie immediately. They have some kind of unspoken connection I don’t understand. “Thanks.”
The seconds and minutes multiply and I become restless. Pacing back and forth, I notice it’s dark outside—a much starker contrast from the sunshine of our arrival. It shouldn’t be taking this long. If she was okay, they would have come out by now.
“Kipton, honey.” I turn to the sound of my mom’s voice, thankful she’s here so I don’t have to hold the weight of the world on my shoulders all alone.
“Mom.” I kiss her cheek and get lost in her hug like a lost little boy.
“Any word?”
I’m about to tell her no when we’re interrupted by a nurse. “Are you Sophie’s family?”
“Yes,” we reply in unison. The nurse gives us a warm smile.
“I’m Maura, from social work.” Social work? Where’s the damn nurse? I was called to Sophie’s case based on some information the medics were given on her way over. About her history. I was wondering if I could speak to you about those things in a more private area. Would that be okay?”
My mom speaks up. “We aren’t her blood relatives, I understand there are some privacy rules and regulations we wouldn’t want to cross.”
“Of course. She’s told me about her biological family and the circumstances. I’ve been given the okay to proceed speaking with you all. As long as you agree.”
Of course we agree. I’ll do anything to help her. “She’s awake? She’s okay?” I ask with hope.
“She’s doing better and awake. We’ve spent some time talking. But she was concerned about seeing you all.”
I don’t get it. “Why?”
“Sophie’s gone through several traumatic experiences in a very short amount of time. Her body and mind gave up earlier today. She was overwhelmed and exhausted. The combination of not sleeping, and not properly eating caused her to pass out. Her blood sugar plummeted. That in itself was serious but combined with her recent concussion; the fall she took as she lost consciousness was also a concern. She’s a brave young woman with one complicated past.”
“Will she be okay? There’s no permanent damage?” Mom asks.
“Nothing permanent physically, no. But mentally, she’s struggling. Her therapist has been effective, but I don’t think it’s enough, especially with all the outside distractions.”
I let mom handle the questions. My mind’s spinning. “What do you recommend for her?”
“I think she’d benefit from inpatient therapy in our Behavioral Health Center. Peer group counseling as well as individual. I’d also like her to meet with her biological family to work through her anger. She has your love and support as I can see, but she needs more.”
I stand up, not agreeing with the recommendation. “She’s not crazy. Do you have any idea the hell her family has put her through? I’m sorry, but she’s not going anywhere. She can move in with me.”
“Kipton,” Mom urges.
“No, Mom. They aren’t sticking her in a padded room like a prisoner. I’ll take her to therapy every day. To the woman she sees now.”
“Honey, she can’t live a full life if she’s not well enough to enjoy it—to fully experience it. Let’s help her find her joy again. She can’t keep holding onto the burden she’s carrying. Nobody can survive forever like that. You heard Maura, her body gave out on her today.”
“She’s been depressed and withdrawn, but she’s trying to sort out the letters from her Father and make sense of everything”
“Exactly Kipton. She needs help making sense of her world.”
It’s selfish, but what if she starts thinking I’m wrong for her too. It’s not about me. “Can I see her?”
Maura smiles warmly at me. “Of course you can. She’s being observed overnight in this department. If all is well tomorrow, they will discharge her to our care. While her therapy isn’t mandatory—meaning we can’t hold her against her will, we will recommend she remain for the duration. Having your support would make this transition easier for her to accept.”