I need to think about the first night

February 14th, Valentine's Day

Filled with mundane worries and parties

But mom won't tell me what's wrong

"Just let me talk to Bucky"

And she sounds so calm

This is something I was waiting for

We knew this would happen

One day...oh my brother

He's the nice one.

The drive to the hospital, surreal

Running into the ER

My legs won't hold me up.

The nurse's face,

Head tilted to the left,

Such pity.

WHERE IS MY BROTHER!

So many people

Friends who couldn't look at each other

But instead just stared at the floor

Or their hands.

I'm so cold,

Shaking,

Laying on the floor in my red pajama pants

Covered with Mommy Del's coat.

Waiting for the surgeon

Dad's gray face, he's crying

A broken heart

I've never seen that before.

But what happened to Eve or dad that night?

Who stayed in the intensive care?

I don't remember...

Though I know Jayne was sitting in a chair.

"Do you want to see him?"

And I want to say NO!

But it's my Sam laying in that bed,

Swollen and fluid-filled,

Crisscrossed with wires and tubes,

Wrapped in bandages,

I could only look at his foot.

Finally forced myself to let my eyes travel up to his head,

His little bloody ear,

Thinking that blood in the ear isn't good

(I know this because of the movies I've seen).

Now we live in the waiting room

waitingwaitingwaiting

For what we don't know.

Laying on the chair but I don't sleep.

The clock says 4:30 in the morning

Quick math...how long as this been our life?

We stand every time the door opens

But it's just a lady with sheets

Or a miscellaneous nurse.

Hysterical laughter

But why can't I cry?

No gag, no cough, doesn't move or blink

They don't come back from that.

Mom throws her body into the wall,

Dad holds her back.

"Can't someone give her something...like a shot?"

Blood pressure dropping

CAT scan...it's bad

Organ donation and I still can't cry

We can't do anything...but wait.

Maybe there's a way

Temporal lobe, bone flap

Waiting during the second surgery

prayingprayingpraying

Laying on the floor of the chapel,

Playing with Robby's hair

Twisting it up into little ginger twirls.

My mouth is so dry

pleaseGodpleaseGodpleaseGod...

Laying prostrate in front of the crucifix

Pray, pray, pray, barter, bargain

Anything to make this not true

Let it be me

Just let me take his place NOW!

Waiting for the surgeon, did we ever see him?

Surrounded by visitors

The surgery worked we think

And now we waitwaitwaitwaitwait

Through the first 72 hours we wait

Watching the monitors,

ICP, CPP, blood pressure (mom says look at the top number)

First grade teacher-doctor now.

Heart rate's fast, blue blanket cooling him down

Tube in his mouth

Sam's lips look just like mine.

Respirator, with his chest hitching up and down

A mechanical sort of way

Breathing...but not really

Just an awful clicking sound.

Assist the vent (sometimes, we think)

Eye twitch, PLEASE MOVE!

We watch him too closely

Every little sign is hope

Preachers, priests, psychics, healers

They surround his bed

Native American medicine man with the cigarette

So put that in your pipe and smoke it

The drum and hey yah yah yah

Can you do this in ICU?

Isn't that silly...we all did it

Hold hands and pray

And all I can do

Is touch his cold foot

And wait.

--Written by Rebecca Wolf (Sam's oldest sister)