Dr. Brandt: Chapter 39
The last thing I remembered was getting confirmation from my parents and Warren that they’d all be on the next flights to Los Angeles. After that, I was stuck in my head about everything that’d gone wrong since I left Jacks to go on vacation with Cameron.
I couldn’t think of anything but my guilt for this happening to Jacks while I was enjoying living the life of an adventurous billionaire’s girlfriend.
Everything that happened from when I hung up the phone and walked out of the plane’s private bedroom until now was a blur. I vaguely remembered the plane landing and the car ushering us to the hospital, but that was it. I recalled loud ringing in my ears, and now, I was reclined on a sofa in a small, immaculate room with pictures of biplanes hanging on the wall.
How did I get here? I thought, feeling completely strange. I had to be in the hospital because I heard doctors being paged over the intercom, but I couldn’t have traced my steps if my life depended on it.
“Jess,” Cam said, shocking me by entering the room, wearing dark blue hospital scrubs and a white lab coat.
I sat up, getting my bearings, knowing I’d been a crazy zombie since I learned my son had gone into a coma.
“Jessica?” Cam said, his voice and demeanor changed entirely. He was gravely serious, and I realized then that I’d never met this side of Cameron.
“Cameron,” I answered, unsure what to say.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Me?” I questioned him, more confused than irritated that we were talking about me instead of my son.
I smeared my hand over my forehead. It was sweaty, and my palms were clammy. “How’d I get here?” I asked, knowing I’d lost important time somewhere along the line. “I can’t remember anything.”
“It’s because you fainted,” he said, answered.
“Fainted?”
“Yes, how are you feeling?”
“Jesus, Cameron, who cares how I’m feeling—”
“I do,” he answered stiffly. “My son is in ICU, and the woman I love fainted after seeing him in that state. I need to ensure you’re feeling better after waking up from that?”
“I’m confused,” I answered honestly. “Did I see Jacks? I fainted? I don’t—I’ve never—”
“It can happen to anyone in overwhelming situations, Jess.”
I felt so damn tired. “What have I missed?”
“You fainted when we walked in to see Jackson. Thank God I was behind you when it happened. I caught you, and you didn’t injure yourself.”
“Thank you,” I said, my mouth dry as the desert. “I need some water, though, and I need to see my son.” I took the water bottle Cameron pulled out of a fridge in the corner of the room and started crying. “All I’ve wanted since I learned my baby was hurt was to hold him in my arms, and once I get the chance, I fucking faint?” I growled the last word, feeling hopeless and worthless.
“Don’t do that to yourself,” he said. “This whole situation has caught all of us off guard. It’s helped me to see the images of his brain and go over them with my team,” he sat next to me.
“And what did you find?”
“The scans are showing positive outcomes for what I feared most. I was afraid he may have suffered brain damage from lack of oxygen, but that is not the case. It was as if all that activity firing off at once made his brain protect itself, and it shut itself down. It’s the closest thing to a miracle that could’ve happened to him, but time is of the essence. I must perform this surgery now to remove the diseased portion of his left hemisphere and allow the right hemisphere to take over.”
“So, this is it? It’s like his brain is giving us no other option?”
“He may wake from this in a week or so,” he said, placing his hand over mine, “or it may take longer. Having viewed all the scans, I’m confident that he will wake. However, I am not confident this won’t continue to happen. I am in a place as a surgeon and as his father where I don’t want to take any chances.”
I closed my eyes, grateful that Jacks would wake up again but scared about what would happen if we didn’t do the surgery and if we did. I felt like I was backed into a corner. “What if we do this?” I stopped myself. “What if I tell you to do the surgery, and he wakes up paralyzed and never forgives us for taking out half of his brain without permission?”
I saw the faintest look of relief wash over his face. “I talked to Jake while you were in the back room on the plane,” he said. “Jake told me that he and Collin spent some time working out some details of what life would be like if he opted out of the surgery.”
“Working out some details? How?”
“Well, you know that Collin is a neurosurgeon, and though pediatrics is not his specialty, he also deals with epileptic patients. He shared a few stories with Jacks, making it more real for the kid. Jacks realized that he’d be foolish not to have it. He agreed—” he paused, and I could see tears in his eyes.
I watched as a tear slipped out of the corner of his eye, running down to the dark stubble of his cheek. “So, he was willing to have the surgery?”
“Yes. Fuck, I can’t let these emotions get into my head. I’m doing a good job keeping them pushed down.” He sniffed, then shook his head and frowned. Finally, he looked at me with glaring sincerity. “I’m so sorry I didn’t see this coming. I’m sorry to you and Jacks, but I promise I will make this right and fix him. I will bring him back to us with a healthier brain.”
“Stop apologizing, and just fix our son, Cameron,” I said. I was feeling a million emotions but holding onto one—determination.
I knew Jackson would get better, and he would beat the odds.
“I have more blood work, labs, and scans coming back. If I feel confident in what I see and that he will do well in this state and surgery, I want to schedule it for the morning after tomorrow.”
“Isn’t that a bit soon?” I questioned, then saw the severity in Cam’s eyes and nodded. “I understand you probably know more about all of this than I do but are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“I wouldn’t consider this surgery if I wasn’t,” he said.
“I need to be sure you’re doing this prepared, ready, and not just doing this because we screwed up by taking a vacation and shirking our responsibilities to our son, not pushing him to have surgery earlier.”
Cameron’s face grew dark, “I understand why you might believe I couldn’t perform a surgery because—”
“Stop,” I said, crying again and then hugging him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
“Jessa,” he pulled me back and stared intently into my eyes, “I understand your fears and concerns. I have not given you much to go off while being Jackson’s doctor by only doing fun things while bonding and enjoying our time together.”
I nodded because it was true; deep down, that’s how I felt about Cameron. Was he the responsible doctor he said he was? He sure hadn’t been acting like it.
“I need you to push all of that away, though, and trust that I’ve been watching him even when I was enjoying my time with you both. I’ve mentally processed how he behaves in and out of the seizures and how he behaves coming out of them. This is my field of expertise, so while you may think I’ve been screwing off, I’ve been paying close attention. I needed to know if he was a strong enough candidate for this surgery, and I can confidently say that he will most likely surprise us in time with how well he does in recovery. On the surface, perhaps I made it appear like I was just messing around with him, but that couldn’t be farther from what I was doing.”
“I just need to be certain you’re doing this for the right reasons,” I said. “I need to be sure that his doctor is making the decisions and not his dad, who could possibly feel guilt that this even happened.”
It was harsh, and I knew it. But my son was facing brain surgery while in a coma performed by a man who just happened to be his newfound dad. So, I needed reassurance that Cameron wasn’t trying to make up for anything—like I could see myself doing.
His features darkened even more; now, he was the cold, handsome surgeon I saw when he walked into this room a few minutes ago.
“I would never cut into a child because I felt guilt or remorse for lack of judgment,” his tone matched his grave expression. “That is how mistakes, botched surgeries, and even death happen on the surgical table. I pride myself on putting my patients and their good before my own. I will never get greedy in the surgical room, and I ask that you trust me on that.”
I pinched my lips together, feeling somewhat intimidated by the tall man standing before me. I didn’t know this man, and I thanked God he finally introduced himself to me. I needed to believe my son was in good hands and not in the hands of the man who had swept me off my feet for an entire month. I didn’t want the crazy, wild, and goofy Cameron anywhere near my son, and I sure as hell didn’t want a remorseful Cameron operating on him.
I wanted this asshole—the arrogant surgeon who knew his shit—to save my son from the hell I allowed him to go through because I was too busy believing that life owed me for a change.
“Before I came in to get you, Jake told me that the girls have been trying to contact you. I informed them about what happened when you saw Jacks in the room and that you were lying down.”
“I can check my phone later,” I said coldly. I didn’t care who was trying to get ahold of me. I needed to see my son. “Take me to Jacks. I want to be with him. I think I’ve spent enough time this month putting myself first.”
“I just wanted to let you know that the ladies are here at the hospital if you’d like the company. I will be going over many things to assure that Jacks will do well in surgery.”
“While I appreciate that, I don’t plan on leaving his side until he’s taken into surgery,” I said. “Warren and my parents should be here tonight, so I’ll have his support when he gets here.”
“Warren?” Cam’s expression darkened.
“Don’t start,” I said. “You need to let me deal with this my way, Cam. Warren has been a huge part of Jackson’s life. In fact—”
I paused.
Don’t fucking say it.
“In fact?” Cameron urged, and his irritation fed mine.
“I just know if I were with Warren, I wouldn’t have spent the last month living in a fantasy world, and I would’ve been there for my son.”
“Is that what you feel this last month was, a fantasy world?”
“Wasn’t it? Living some idea, focused on our perfect little family, while we should’ve been focused on fixing Jackson and not our relationship? Instead, we were careless and foolish, and now my son lies helpless in an ICU bed. And for what, so I could have a little fun, right? Put myself first for once, yeah? Isn’t that what you’ve been telling me this entire time?”
I covered my mouth, forcing myself to shut up. I saw the pain in Cameron’s eyes, and I knew it wasn’t fair. I wasn’t mad at him. I didn’t think I was, anyway. I was mad at myself. Mad at the world. I was just fucking mad.
“Instead, you were with me, living a life with your son that you both deserved. A fucking fluke incident happened, and now you’re blaming your lack of judgment for taking me back?”
“That’s not what I’m doing, Cameron.”
“It doesn’t matter at this point. I cannot worry about how this affects our relationship. I can’t worry about anything. I must focus on Jackson and helping him.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” I answered. “I need to be with him. Have you decided how you’ll move forward?”
“As I said, I’m still waiting on more labs. I’ll meet with my surgical team after I bring you to his room, and there, we will go over everything, including the safest way to proceed.”
“Do you believe you’ll do the hemispherectomy?” I asked.
“Yes,” he answered. “With everything I’ve gone over, I can safely say that is the best option. I just need more results back before we make the final decision.”
“Okay,” I answered, my emotions stable.
I needed to be with Jacks and wait for Cameron to get his answers, and then we’d go from there. My parents and Warren couldn’t get here fast enough.
I had no idea why, but Cameron brought me no comfort right now. I desperately wanted and needed someone familiar, and Warren had always been an anchor. I knew he would ground me, and I needed that comfort more than ever.