39

 

Hospitals kind of freak me out.

The walls are really white. The floors are really shiny. The whole place has that gross overly clean smell. And everyone is whispering.

My goal in life is to hang out in hospitals as little as possible.

Luckily, Nana’s nurse, who was named Jagadesh, was a really friendly person.

Plus, he recognized me.

“You’re Jack Strong,” he said, as we waited for the doctor to bring us some news.

“Yes,” I answered, a little out of breath. Walking up the stairs from the underground parking lot to the lobby was the most non-yoga exercise I’d had in almost two weeks.

“I admire what you’re doing,” said Jagadesh. “Standing up for your rights. Very cool.”

I tried to smile, but I was too worried. Nana didn’t look good at all when they took her out of the ambulance and into the emergency room. She tried to wave at me but her mouth was covered by an oxygen mask and she had tubes running to her arms.

When I saw her go through the hospital doors I’d started to cry a little bit, but I didn’t want my parents to see me so I made myself stop. My mom was already very scared, and if she saw me crying that definitely would have made it worse.

In the waiting room, my parents sat down. My dad looked at me and pointed to a couch.

“No, thanks,” I said. “I’d rather stand.”

We all laughed at that and felt a little bit better.

And then we waited.

*   *   *

There was a television in the waiting room, and it was tuned to Brody’s show. It was just ending, since it had taken us about fifteen minutes to get to the hospital and fifteen more to fill out the paperwork.

Brody and Shaina were talking at the desk on the stage, in our front yard. Watching them almost didn’t feel real.

“This has been a memorable night, for so many reasons,” Brody said.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Shaina agreed.

“I sure hope that wonderful woman is okay,” Brody added.

My dad got up and turned off the TV.

When he got back to the couch, he hugged my mom for a long time.

About an hour later the doctor came out. She looked young enough to be my sister, but my parents looked at her like she had the fate of the world in her hands. Which, in a way, she did.

“I’m Dr. Worsfold,” she said, shaking my parents’ hands. “You must be Mrs. Kellerman’s daughter.”

My mom stepped forward and nodded.

“Your mother went into cardiac arrest,” said the doctor. “We’re still working to restore a normal heart rate. We should know more in the next hour or so.”

My mom managed to nod. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“She’s a real fighter,” said Dr. Worsfold.

My mom nodded again and started to cry. My dad hugged her, then turned to the doctor.

“Tell me about it,” he said.