“Yes, we’re looking for a patient. Her name’s Caroline Hunt.”
“Oh yes, she’s in room seven.”
“Is she,” I swallowed, “okay?”
“I believe so,” she said, smiling.
Ellie fell a little bit against me in relief, breaking my heart. “Thank God,” I said.
“Thank God, indeed,” she smiled.
We approached the room slowly, hoping not to wake her if she was asleep, and slid the large glass door open. I slid the curtain back a little and took in Cricket.
She leaned forward a bit and smiled at the both of us, though she looked pale beyond belief and her hair was rustled.
“Hi,” she said cheerfully.
“Oh God, Cricket,” I nearly broke down, hugging her. I kissed the top of her head, side of her face and lips. “You scared us to death.”
“It’s okay,” she told us. “I’m okay.”
“You’re not,” I told her, gesturing to her bed.
She was hooked up to numerous machines, and it was overwhelming me.
I realized I had taken over Cricket when Ellie appeared at my side. “I’m so sorry, Ellie,” I told her, making way for her.
“Granddaughter,” she said softly, “which doctor have you spoken to?”
“Caldwell was here earlier but he left. He’ll be back soon though and explain it all.”
I’d forgotten that they probably knew the physicians there, that they’d been struggling with this for who knows how many years. I looked about the room and grabbed a chair for Ellie and she sat. I wheeled the doctor’s chair over to the side of Cricket’s bed and held her hand.
“I wish you’d told me,” I said.
A tear escaped. “If I had told you, you would have seen the sick me and not the real me. I loved so much that you saw me for me. I loved that you didn’t cut me slack or make excuses for me. I loved that you called me out.”
“I’m so sorry,” I told her, bringing her hand to my lips. “I am so sorry for the insensitive things I’ve done and said.”
“Didn’t you hear me?” she laughed. “I liked that you treated me normally, Spencer. I loved it.”
A tall man with white hair approached the glass doors and knocked. “Can I come in?” he asked.
“Come in, Dr. Caldwell,” Cricket instructed, waving him in. “Caldwell, this is Spencer Blackwell,” she said, introducing me. “Spencer, this is my nephrologist, Dr. Caldwell.”
I stood and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to finally put a name to a face,” he said.
I looked down at Cricket and she shrugged. “You came up a lot during dialysis.”
I smiled at her.
I gave the doctor his stool but he refused it. “No, no, sit. I won’t be long.”
“Thank you.”
He sighed, making my blood pressure spike. “Well, it’s happening, and frankly, sooner than I thought it would.”
Ellie and Cricket nodded but my blood ran cold. I didn’t understand.
“We ran a screen,” he continued, “and your levels were through the roof, Cricket.”
She nodded as if she expected this.
“I want to do an ultrasound within the hour or so.”
“Okay,” she said.
He squeezed her foot and waved to everyone else. “I’ll be back,” he said. “Hang tight.”
Ellie looked at Cricket and sighed. “I know,” Cricket said, smiling. “Everything will be okay,” she told Ellie, who began to cry. “Oh, Grandma, things are different now.”
“They feel the same,” she said, swiping beneath her eyes.
“Medicine has improved, Grandma. This is not a death sentence.”
Ellie reached forward and grabbed her other hand. Cricket squeezed her hand, then turned to me.
“This is how my mother died,” she said, shocking me to my core.
I swallowed, my mouth bone dry. “How old was your mother?” I rasped.
“My age when she was diagnosed,” she answered.
I nodded, my eyes burning. “And this?”
“Yes, she died of advanced kidney disease.” She squeezed my hand tightly. “Did you hear what I said?” she asked. “This is not a death sentence.”
“What does this all mean then?”
“Well,” she said, turning away from me, avoiding my eyes, “I’ll need a transplant more than likely.”
“And, uh, do you have one in mind?”
She looked at me but barely. “I’m on a list.”
Ellie stood when her cell phone rang. “It’s your Pop Pop. He’ll be downstairs with everyone and he brought clothing for me. Will you be okay?” she asked Cricket.