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gumballavocadoharry · 1 year

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Knocking on death's door:

*Mentions of serious medical problems, death, amputation, life support, angst, some very intense scenes and sadness.*

"Dad, I don't feel well," Young Nathan complained holding his head feverishly. Harry's concern lasted for seconds before his assumption of a sham hoax that his son concocted to skip school. "Really?" Harry feels Nathan head only to be met with amiss. Nathan's head was scorching like a furious volcano.

Harry gulped back a fretful concept before sending Nathan straight to bed with a bulky thermometer in his mouth. His temperature read an indefinite fever, but it wasn't too concerning as Nathan has had fevers before like the average kid right?

According to Nathan, his neck was stiff, he was incredibly sensitive to light and had a grim headache. Harry gathered warm clammy cloths and draped them gently over his 11 year old's forehead. He fretted that Nathan's symptoms meant something catastrophic that even Harry wouldn't be able to yank him away from the harsh claws of a cruel, possible death. He tried not to think about it; chewed on his pinky nail, a nervous habit he picked up from middle school whenever a bad grade conquered him.

It was the unusually high fever that made Harry anguished. Nathan was fine yesterday, doing his usual stunt moves that would brush Harry up from the dining room table and contest outside to scold him for such callous behavior. But that's just who Nathan was. His sprightly outlook kept Harry young. Oh Harry adored his cheeky vivid smile, and of course his olive green orbs full of magnetic appeal and adoration for his father, who would be extremely grateful for letting his little "slip ups" pass on.

So, naturally when Nathan slows down and starts feeling ill, Harry like any other loving parent gets worried. But never in his wildest imagination could Harry expect the already gloomish day to take a one-eighty. It was a close call towards evening, around 5:00 when Harry heard Nathan throwing up belligerently in the bathroom. Nathan, the kid with the cast iron stomach who never threw up (with the exception of being a baby) was now spilling his guts in the upstairs toilet.

Harry shot upstairs like a rocket and busted into the bathroom. And as if that wasn't alarming enough, Nathan described the room to be spinning and was falling in and out of consciousness. But the outsetter was Nathan finally lifting his pale face to Harry; his nose, chin, cheeks and part of his forehead were a lilac and jam purple mixed together.

Harry's heart stopped in that moment. There was no denying this was absolutely no flu. Harry picked Nathan up and broke every speed limit to get to the hospital. "I need a doctor!" He exclaimed, running inside with an unconscious Nathan in his arms. Doctors, nurses surrounded the two as the wheeled Nathan into the emergency room.

"His heart stopped," One of the nurses said while checking his heartbeat. "And I think his kidneys are next." Harry couldn't hold it back anymore, he burst into anguish sobs begging the medics to tell him what was wrong with his son. It killed it him twice to hear his son's organs were failing and therefore was being wheeled into the ICU. Doctors were shoving tubes down Nathan's throat, into his chest and sides just to stabilize him.

The words: "We don't know what's wrong with him," Shook him enough to erupt a chill into his spine. Harry was requested to wear a protective surgical covering with gloves and a face mask before entering his son's room. He was taken aback to the life support machines that pumping air, saline and other medications inside of him just to keep him alive.

"How?" Harry thought loudly. "How could this happen to him, he was healthy as a horse yesterday and now he's dying?!" A nurse put her arm around Harry's shoulder. "How is he?" She looked down and swallowed loudly before turning her troubled eyes back to Harry. "It's touch and go right now," She cleared her throat before continuing, guiding Harry into a separate room.

"The doctor said that he's lost of a lot of fluids and so we're pumping saline into him to keep him from going into another septic shock." Harry's eyes widened. "Another septic shock?" He mimicked.

"Nathan went into shock just a little after you came in, thank goodness you did. But um, his heart is still very weak but his lungs and kidneys have completely stopped. We're taking some blood now and a spinal tap. We're doing everything possible for him Mr. Styles." It was like a lightning slapped Harry cold in the face. The realization that subtly told him to prepare for the worst hit him harder than his breath that he still couldn't seem to find.

"Nathan," He sobbed, as the nurse kindly held his hand. The buzzing in his ears didn't stop, even when the doctor came up to Harry with Nathan's results. "Hello Mr. Styles, we have Nathan's results," Harry shot his head up almost gripping him with whiplash.

"Your son has bacterial meningococcal meningitis." Harry gulped back a permanent lump in his throat. "Is he going to be okay?" The doctor gave a sideways mouth. "We don't know yet. Right now he's stable but his lungs and kidneys have completely shut down, right now we're working on trying to at least restart his lungs and take it from there. We would like to do an MRI to see if there's anything else, but it's incredibly risky and he could die if we moved him."

Harry's red blurry eyes tried to comprehend all what was being said until his fortitude prompt him to ask the question he dreaded the most. "Is Nathan....going to die."

The doctor sighed. "We don't know. If he does survive, there's a chance he might have severe brain damage, loss of hearing or sight, amputation of his limbs or scarring. Right now he's already at kidney failure." Harry couldn't hold back his sorrowful tears. It was as if he was already morning the loss of his child. "May I see him?" The doctor traded looks with the nurse, before escorting Harry back into the room.

Harry almost gagged at his son's purplish legs. He prayed they wouldn't have to take them...if he survived that was. "He's a fighter Mr. Styles," Harry, still crying nodded his head. "I know. He's my tough cookie."

"Can I have a few minutes alone please?" The doctor nodded, before leaving the room in quietly.

"Nathan....if you can hear me....I just want you to know that I love you very much, and that no matter what happens, I'll always be with you," Harry choked. "And I'll never leave you." He quavered. The distant machine sounds of heart monitors, iv drips and the respiratory machine were background music to Harry, yet at the same time, he heard them clamorously pounding in his head and memory. Sounds he would never fully forget for the rest of his life. This was like a nightmare. It couldn't be real, his 11 year old boy was knocking on death's door at his tender age!

"Mr. Styles, we're going to take an MRI of Nathan now. We'll be back in a few minutes." While moving him, Harry caught site of Nathan's full on violet colored legs and hands. His eyes couldn't be moved from the unnerving chance that it was already a sign of nerve damage.

Septic shock is what rang like bells in the back of his minds. Harry couldn't help but watch his Nathan's gaunt body be accelerated to radiology. It was like his child was being snatched from his arms and thrown into an abyss that Harry, no matter how hard he tried, couldn't pull him out of it. He stabbed himself with harsh internal scouldings and mauled himself with guilt over thinking Nathan's sickness was some sort of tactic to skip class.

For goodness sake, the nurse said if Harry had waited any longer....Nathan would've been gone! I don't think would ever be able to fully admit to himself that his gut feeling was screaming at him otherwise the moment he felt Nathan's head. "Maybe if I had taken him in earlier, he wouldn't be in critical condition." Harry whispered to himself.

The doctor's came back, but this time with papers and without Nathan. Harry grew panicky. "Okay, we did an MRI and it showed us that Nathan's spleen is incredibly large and about to burst. We need to operate right away, time's a factor." The doctor handed Harry some forms to admit Nathan and for permission to operate. Harry shakingly signed them and watched as the doctor ran out and joined his surgical team.

It could've been hours that Harry sat in that waiting room, waiting for the doctor to update him on Nathan's fate. The clock struck 3:27, they had checked in at around 5:32 yesterday. It seemed like time was speeding like a bullet train, yet slowing down like a turtle compared to a rabbit.

Harry glanced to the corner to see the doctor coming out and taking his surgical hat off, before wiping his head from sweat. "Nathan's stable right now, but he's still unconscious. We removed his spleen just before it burst. He's still on life support though and we can't make an estimate of when he'll be off." Harry nodded, eyes crusted from all the tears he cried in the face of this nightmare.

"Okay," He gave a small response. The doctor flashed an empathic smile before escorting the father to his son's recovery room. Upon entering, seeing the huge machines and tubes that were going in and out of Nathan. "One thing about Nathan's condition, since he's in a coma right now....his body will have a better chance of fighting off the disease,"

Harry nodded. He caressed his son's cheek somberly. "Please, Nathan. Don't die. Please, don't die."

Part 2??????

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