The nurse came out the waiting room said, “Jasmine, your husband is ready for you.” I followed her footsteps and asked, “How is he doing?”
“He is OK. Resting.”
I opened the curtain to see him. His face was pale, eyes closed and left hand pocked with an IV. Seeing him like this, something sharp pinched my heart. I felt sometime familiar, the bed, the monitors, and the smell. It was last summer all over again. The summer we lost our baby…. How hard must have been for him, watching me unconsciously lying in the hospital bed in the ICU and knowing our baby was in stress in the NICU few doors down. In a split second, he could face the danger of losing both of us. What did he feel? Shocked? Devastated? Desperate? All I remembered was he sank in a chair and buried his head between the shoulders.
But this time he was the patient and this was a small procedure. Nothing was life threatening. As I watched him, I felt helpless. Mixed emotions charged my brain but only silenced my voice. In my misty eyes, I gently touched his face.
He woke up and voice laud, “Where is my Kung Pao chicken? I am hungry”