The Road to Mercy (3 page)

Loving and being loved had taught her the greater love of God. She knew she could rest assured that the Giver of all good things had plans for her, whether in this life or beyond. She ached to know him better.
Now I know in part; then I shall know fully
.

Perhaps this was her time to know fully.

Warmth and peace enveloped her, and when the ambulance pulled into Davidson County Medical Center, Beth felt closer to heaven than to earth.

A vibrating phone jarred Josh from deep sleep. He fumbled with it in the darkness.

“Hello.”

“Josh, it’s Alex Hayes. Beth is on her way to the hospital.”

“What’s wrong?” He wiped the sleep from his eyes.

“She’s complaining of a headache, and she’s disoriented. I found her passed out on the kitchen floor and called an ambulance.”

“An ambulance?” Josh threw back the curtain that separated him from the bunkroom hallway. In the soft glow of the hall light he could read the numbers on his watch. 9:36. “Is she o . . . okay?” The words caught in his throat as he dangled his legs over the side of his bed and then jumped to the floor.

“What’s going on?” Ryan interrupted, poking his head outside his curtain.

“She’s in a lot of pain, but she’s responsive,” Alex said. “I’ll know more when I get to the hospital. They took her to Davidson County Medical Center. I’ll call you after I talk to a doctor.”

By the time Josh ended the conversation he was standing in the front lounge of the bus with several members of his band gathered around him. After a brief explanation, and each person’s assurance of prayer on Beth’s behalf, Josh set the wheels in motion for the quickest route home.

He consulted with Ryan and then Danny.

“How far are we from St. Louis? Can I catch a plane and make it home faster than we can drive?”

“We’re about a hundred miles from St. Louis,” Danny estimated. “Maybe more.”

“I’ll check flights.” Ryan pulled a phone from his pocket and punched in numbers.

Josh settled onto the jump seat and stared at what seemed to be a never-ending white line in the center of the highway. For the first time in his life he regretted his career. He should have been home with his wife when she needed him.

Danny interrupted his thoughts. “Boss, I just saw a mileage sign. I can make it to the St. Louis airport in about ninety minutes.”

Josh turned to Ryan, who stood with a phone cradled between his ear and shoulder. “Will that work?”

“I’m talking to the travel agent now,” Ryan mouthed before he paced toward the back of the bus.

Josh gulped air. Why was it so hard to breathe?

Lord, I know you love Beth; please protect her until I get there
. He had prayed the same prayer a thousand times in the past half hour.

Ryan stepped back to the driver’s compartment. “That’s the earliest flight? What time does it arrive in Nashville?” He directed his attention to Josh. “I can get you there at ten o’clock.”

“Tonight?” Emptiness hit Josh in the gut. “I can’t wait that long.” He turned to Danny. “How soon can you get us to Nashville?”

“Maybe six hours.”

“Then do it. Get me to my wife.”

Josh’s cell phone rang as he retreated to the back lounge of the bus. It was Alex’s number on the caller ID.

“How is she?” he asked, forgoing the pleasantries.

“She was disoriented and vomiting when she got to the hospital. That has been over an hour ago. They won’t let me see her, but the nurse says she’s stable.” Alex hesitated. “Josh, the doctors believe she’s had a cerebral aneurysm.”

“What?”

“A tear in an artery in her brain.”

“Is she conscious?”

“Yes. They’re doing a CT scan now.”

Josh heard himself breathing into the phone. He latched onto the side of his bunk and held on.

“Josh, keep the faith. God will see her through this.”

“I want to talk to a doctor.”

“I’ll do my best. How soon before you’re here?”

“Five o’clock—or before.”

He put the phone down and stared out the window of the back lounge. From a cloudless sky, the autumn sun highlighted the rich colors of the Midwestern farmland. A few red leaves still clung to the woody skeletons of nearby trees, and the green fields wore a partial camouflage of yellow and brown in preparation for the coming battle with winter.

Josh felt his life changing just as the seasons.

A panorama of Americana sped past. Modest white houses snuggled near gray and red barns. Livestock grazed peacefully. Cars meandered a country road that paralleled the superhighway on which his bus traveled. Although within plain sight of each other, the two roads ended in different places.

Had he taken the right one?

The technician stroked Beth’s forearm. His eyes offered reassurance. “Can you hang in there for a little while longer?”

Beth nodded and pulled the white sheet closer to her body. Her teeth chattered, making it difficult to speak. The temperature in the exam room had to be freezing.

“You look cold. I’ll bring you a blanket.”

“Th-thank y-you.” She tried to form the words.

He returned with two warm blankets and a clipboard. “I need to ask you a few questions. Do you remember what you were doing when your headache started this morning?”

“Yes. I-I was in my kitchen baking cookies.”

“So you had no intense physical activity? Just a normal morning?”

“Yes.” She watched as he jotted down notes.

“Is there any possibility you could be pregnant?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Are you allergic to any medicines?”

“No.”

He finished his note taking, then laid the clipboard on a nearby table and picked up a needle. “Have you had a CT scan before?”

“No.” She shook her head, rousing the pain.

He thumped her left forearm. “Okay, you’re going to feel a little stick.”

She closed her eyes when he inserted the tip of the hypodermic needle into a vein. Seconds later the sensation of heat scurried up her arm. It dissipated when it reached her shoulder.

“You should be feeling a little warmth. It’s a benign dye we need to view the arteries in your neck and head.” He laid a heavy quilt across her midsection. “As a precaution against the radiation, I’m covering you with a lead blanket.”

The weight of the blanket heightened Beth’s awareness of breathing. Or trying to breathe. Everything she had once taken for granted seemed now to be in question. Would she live or die? And would she ever see Josh’s face again?

Dear God, please bring my husband home to me
.

Within seconds the platform underneath her began to move.

“Try to relax,” the technician spoke from behind a glass booth. “After we’re finished, the doctor can give you something for pain relief. Now I need you to lie very still. On the count of three, breathe, exhale, and hold. One . . . two . . . three.”

The giant metal ring encircling her head began to rotate.

“Good. Now breathe and relax. Let’s try it again.”

The whir of the machine reminded Beth of airplane landing gear being lowered, the memory taking her mind momentarily off the pain. Her thoughts took her back a year and a half. She and Josh were on their honeymoon, flying toward Jamaica and . . .

“Mrs. Harrison, are you awake?”

“Yes-s-s.” Beth bit her lip.

“I’m Dr. Abrams. I’ve given you something for pain. You may drift in and out for a while.”

She stared at the stranger dressed in white, not quite comprehending his words.

“We’ve completed your CT scan and located the source of your problem. I believe you have suffered a spontaneous dissection in the left carotid artery.”

Beth searched his face for better understanding.

“This is a serious condition. I want to schedule another test to confirm it.”

She tried to sit up. “M-my husband is coming home today. Is he here?”

The doctor gently pushed her back down. “I’m sure you’ll see him soon. First, I need you to tell me about your headache. Do you still have pain?”

“Yes.” She raised her left hand to her head.

“On a scale of one to ten, how bad would you say it is?”

“It’s the worst headache I’ve ever had in my life. A ten.”

“We’re doing our best to make you comfortable. Relax as much as you can. That will help.”

“Josh? Where are you?” Alex asked.

“We’re pulling up to the hospital now. Where can I meet you?”

“I’m on the sixth floor. Beth is in a room.”

“I’ll meet you at the sixth-floor elevators.” He snapped his phone shut and hit the button on the outside air lock doors. The bus was still rolling as he leaped to the parking lot. His knees buckled when his Nikes hit the pavement, but he managed to stay upright.

When had he eaten last?

He sprinted into the lobby and pushed the elevator button twice. Seconds later, the doors opened to an empty lift. He stepped inside, jabbed at the faded number 6, and waited for the metal room to ascend. His heart poked at the wall of his chest, and his pulse quickened.

When the doors opened to the sixth floor, Josh breathed a sigh of relief to see Alex waiting for him. She was still wearing her church clothes. Her red hair fell in tired ringlets around her face. But just seeing her encouraged him.

His relief dissolved quickly when he realized they were standing in the lobby of the critical care unit.

“How’s she doing? Can I see her?”

“I don’t know. They won’t let me go in, but maybe you can.” She pointed toward the waiting area. “There’s an attendant over there. Let’s ask.”

They hurried to the desk and explained the situation.

Josh paced the floor while the woman made a phone call.

“Mr. Harrison, you can see your wife now. Her room is down the hall, past the elevators. Take a right, and then a left.”

Josh waved a thank-you to the receptionist and then turned toward the hallway. “I’ll be back,” he said to Alex.

He followed the corridor signs to the nurses’ station and asked for Beth’s room number. “I’m her husband,” he said, his voice sounding thin.

While the nurse scrolled through records on a computer screen, a middle-aged man wearing a white coat and a stethoscope took note of him. The doctor closed a file and stepped around the huge square desk. He extended his right hand.

“I’m Ben Abrams, your wife’s physician. I’m on my way to her room now. Why don’t you join me?”

“How is she?” Josh walked beside the doctor down a nondescript hallway.

“Your wife is a very sick woman. I would not ordinarily allow family to visit so soon. However, I understand she hasn’t seen you in six weeks.” The doctor stopped in front of Room 607.

“Thank you.”

“Please keep your visit upbeat and relaxed. Stress, or even excitement, could cause her to have a stroke—or worse.”

Josh nodded.

“Let me be frank with you. Your wife should be dead right now. For whatever reason, she has managed to survive. She is still in grave danger.” He opened the door and stepped inside.

Josh followed.

“Bethany, I have a surprise visitor for you.” Dr. Abrams crossed the small room. “Please don’t overdo your welcome. I think he will understand if you don’t get up.”

Beth began to cry when she saw Josh. “You’re here!” she said.

Seeing her like this almost took him to his knees. His wife was surrounded by machines and immersed in wires. But thank God she was alive.

He rushed to her bedside, brushed her hair from her face, and kissed her on the forehead. Then, encircling her unfettered hand with his, he pulled her close to him.