Helen and Ronan were called during the night as Paddy’s temperature had shot up. There was a fan positioned on his bed and Helen could see that he was shivering slightly.
‘Unfortunately, he has developed a slight infection,’ Nurse Carey explained. ‘But we are giving him extra antibiotics and doing our best to get his temperature back to normal. Mr Mulligan’s registrar saw him and will be back again in about half an hour to check on him.’
Poor Paddy, thought Helen, touching his clammy skin, hoping that the risks the surgeon had warned them about wouldn’t overwhelm her husband.
Two hours later things appeared to have settled, Paddy’s temperature was only slightly raised, and she had fallen asleep again, leaning on her son’s shoulder.
Both of them were unable to hide their relief when, at 8 a.m., gowned and masked up again they had gone back into the unit to find Paddy’s colour was better and the awful blue tinge around his lips had disappeared. Helen grasped Paddy’s hand, wishing that he could respond.
‘Paddy, the operation’s over!’ she whispered, hoping that he could hear her, trying to control her emotions now that her husband had come through and survived.
‘Dad,’ said Ronan, standing beside her. She looked at her handsome son. He and Paddy were so alike. Not just physically, but also in terms of temperament and personality. Ronan was just as kindhearted and soft as his father!
Mr Mulligan arrived up at the unit to check on Paddy at 9 a.m.
‘He’s doing well,’ he told them. ‘The high temperature is a bit of a setback, but hopefully we have the infection under control. I think we should hold on to him where he is for another few hours and review him again tonight. Hopefully by this time tomorrow he can move to the cardiac floor.’
‘Thank you so much, Mr Mulligan,’ said Helen, eternally grateful to the surgeon.
‘Helen, we are not out of the woods yet,’ Mr Mulligan warned, ‘but looking at him, Paddy is making progress.’
The next twenty four-hours passed in a blur of worry and exhaustion. Ciara arrived, and insisted Helen go home for a few hours while she and Amy took over watching Paddy.
Helen remembered to feed and walk Barney. Then Fran called over, and she bawled her eyes out for about twenty minutes as Fran listened to her fears. After that, she fell into bed exhausted, sure that she was having a bad dream. She woke up four hours later, horrified to find everything was real. But at least after she had showered and changed she felt more refreshed.
‘I know he still looks very pale,’ explained Nurse Carey when Helen returned to the hospital, ‘but his temperature has settled and his colour and general condition and respiration have really improved over the past few hours. Mr Mulligan called in to check on him briefly before he went to his outpatients’ clinic, and was very pleased.’
‘Well, that’s good to hear.’ Helen smiled, silently thanking God and the universe for getting her husband to this stage, past the first critical twenty-four-hour period!
‘Mr Mulligan said he’ll talk to you tomorrow,’ Nurse Carey said reassuringly as she checked Paddy’s oxygen.
Early the next morning Paddy was transferred out of intensive care and back to the cardiac unit. Lucy O’Driscoll, a fresh staff nurse, welcomed him back and settled him into a private room near the nurses’ station. Helen was so relieved that she almost wanted to shout with joy when Paddy finally opened his eyes and squeezed her hand.
‘Your dad is going to be fine,’ she told her children. ‘He’s going to be fine.’
She sat contently for hours watching as Paddy drifted in and out of sleep. She talked to him and chatted casually about everything, and at times he tried to talk back to her. He sipped on a long stick with lemon on it to damp his lips and mouth. Just before his medication he sometimes moaned in pain, but the nurses seemed so attuned to his needs that Helen knew that he was comfortable and in good hands. The dressing on his chest was saturated with blood, but Staff Nurse O’Driscoll assured her that was normal, as the dressings were only changed four days after the surgery.
‘Then Paddy will be up and ready to have his shower,’ she promised.
Ronan called in again for an hour before heading home. Amy and Ciara returned after going for something quick to eat in Eddie Rocket’s. Looking at their two daughters, heads bent close together, chatting softly at Paddy’s bedside, Helen gave silent thanks for their support and love.
Eventually, reassured by the night staff that Paddy was comfortable and fast asleep and that they would contact her if anything happened to him, Helen agreed to go home.
Amy was staying the night again. Thank heaven the problem of dealing with Sheila wasn’t an issue, as she had gone off down to stay with Helen’s brother Brendan and his wife Claire in Wexford for a few days’ holiday. Helen was so relieved that on top of everything else she didn’t have that responsibility.
The minute they got home, she and Amy collapsed on the leather couch in the kitchen.
‘Do you want a drink, Mum?’ asked Amy.
Helen would have loved a glass of something, but worried that she might be called back to the hospital again in the night and would need to be sober, so she opted for a big pot of tea instead.
‘It’s been such a long day!’ She sighed as she took a sip of the reviving drink. Every bone in her body ached with tiredness, but she knew in her heart that the worst was over. She could see it in Paddy’s eyes. It was early days, but he was a fighter. Paddy O’Connor was going to recover, get back on his feet and get on with his life!