The World in Room 212

Alice’s hands shook as she walked down the hall. The squeaking of her sneakers on the floor, the smell of disinfectant, the buzzing of the fluorescent yellow lights; it was too much. Everything was overwhelming. At the end of the hall, she took a steadying breath, trying to quell the shaking in her hands as she paused in front of room 212. Alice could hear the rhythmic beeping of the monitors and the muffled sound of someone crying from outside the door. She took one last deep breath and opened the door.

            She was immediately greeted with the overwhelming smell of flowers and the sound of her mother blowing her nose. Her eyes met her mother’s red rimmed ones, and she shook her head slightly. Finally, Alice turned to the bed in the room. Laying in the bed was Charlie, so pale that he seemed to glow in the hospital lighting. Even with the tube in his throat, he seemed to make a constant wheezing noise as the machines helped him breathe. The wheezing, the beeping of the monitors, her mother’s muffled cries…they all made a sad sort of symphony. 

            “Have you talked to the doctor yet, Mom?” Alice asked, as she fumbled with her purse. It fell as she tried to sit down on the creaky gray chair. 

            “I haven’t seen them today,” her mother said with a sniffle, “It’s just been me and Charlie.”

            Alice struggled to find the right words, to meet her mother’s eyes. This was never her strength, it was Charlie’s. He always knew the right words, always knew how to comfort their mom; he was their strength and their backbone, without him their family felt broken. It should’ve been her in that bed instead.

            “How did this even happen?” Alice asked.

            Her mother glanced at Charlie then back at Alice. “I found him in the bathroom,” she said, “He came home from his study group earlier than normal and I was out at the store. When I came home, I couldn’t find him but I heard the water running in the bathroom, so I tried to open the door but it was locked…I used my hair pin to get it open…he was just lying there, so still.”

            Alice breathed. In and out, just like Charlie would remind her during one of her panic attacks. This couldn’t be happening. She was sure that she was going to look over and see Charlie vibrant and laughing with a twinkle in his eye. He was 18, only a few years younger than Alice but those years felt so big. She winced and turned back to her mother.

            “The doctor should be here soon,” her mother said, “The nurse said that we would meet him this morning.” Alice glanced at the clock. 9:30, if the doctor was going to come it would probably be soon. She stared at her mother for a moment, noticing how worn down she looked. Her eyes were red and puffy, there was snot on the sleeve of her sweater, and her skin looked pale and waxy. It had been less than a day, but it seemed like Charlie’s stay at the hospital had broken something deep within her. Alice understood, she wondered if the break in her own chest was showing too.

            The knob turned and the doctor walked in. He was a tall, older man, probably around her mother’s age. The first thing Alice noticed was the grim look on his face. 

            “Good morning,” he stated, “I’m Dr. Cushman and I’ve been assigned to Charles’s case--”

            “Charlie,” Alice cut in, “He goes by Charlie.”

Dr. Cushman nodded, “Charlie then,” he looked from Alice to her mother and back again, “What questions do you have for me?”

Alice grabbed her purse and fumbled for the crumpled-up piece of paper. She tried to straighten it out as she glanced at her mother. “Mom, do you have any questions?” she asked. Her mother shook her head slightly, tears already welling in her eyes.

“Alright,” she sighed paper finally straightened, “I’ve only just gotten here, I had to drive back from school. Can we just start from the beginning?”

“Absolutely,” said Dr. Cushman, “Let’s start with the machines.” He moved from the shut doorway to Charlie’s bed and motioned towards the tube in his neck. “This one right here, is a ventilator, it’s helping Charlie to breathe, and the one next to it is keeping track of his vitals.” 

Alice took note of the numbers on the monitor for the first time. It showed his heart rate, oxygen levels, pulse, and for the first time she noticed how low all of those numbers seemed.

Her breath caught in her throat as she asked, “When will we be able to remove the tube helping him to breathe?”

 There was a flash of sadness across Dr. Cushman’s face. “Charlie had large amounts of paracetamol in his system,” he said gently, “It’s caused damage throughout his body. Before your mother found him Charlie had stopped breathing. It took ten minutes for the paramedics to revive him. His liver and kidney functions are significantly reduced, and his EEG is showing minimal brain activity. We’ll keep running more tests but there’s a high likelihood that even if Charlie’s body is able to recover enough to breather on his own, that his brain won’t be able to.”

Alice’s mother immediately started sobbing. Alice froze. Paracetamol? Large doses? Charlie had never taken drugs in his life, what could he have been doing? All these questions ran through her head as she tried to process what the doctor was saying.

“Paracetamol? What does that do?” She asked.

“It’s the generic name for Tylenol,” Dr. Cushman answered, “Had Charlie been displaying any signs of depression recently?”

Alice thought back, she hadn’t talked to her brother as much recently. She’d been so busy with school and Charlie was always so good that she didn’t feel the need to check in as much. Whenever they would facetime, he’d looked tired, but she thought that was normal for a freshman in college. There was no way that he could have been depressed. He was the happiest person she knew.

“You think he did this on purpose?” Alice asked. Her hands started to shake, she moved to cover them with the hem of her sweatshirt. She slowly shook her head as if she could shake the idea out of it. “There’s no way. He wouldn’t do that.”

“I’m sorry; I understand that this may be hard to believe,” Dr. Cushman explained, “Unfortunately, it’s incredibly difficult to unintentionally take enough Paracetamol to cause this type of damage.”

Alice kept shaking. Her breathing started to quicken, and she had to remind herself to breathe. In and out. Her mother choked out a sob from the other side of the room, breaking her out of her own head. 

“Alice, I think he’s right…” she choked out, “He’s been distant recently, quiet, and spending a lot of time alone. He’s not sleeping, and his temper has been acting up.”

“No! Charlie doesn’t even have a temper,” Alice exclaimed, “He’s just a teenager. They go through phases, it’s normal.” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. How could no one see that they were wrong? This was all just an accident and Charlie was going to wake up any moment and be okay.

“I’m very sorry, but we need to talk more about the treatment plan,” Dr. Cushman cut in, “As I said, his organs are beginning to fail, and his EEG has shown minimal activity. We should have more results soon, but I would begin to prepare yourselves. Charlie’s EEG is indicating that he’s brain dead.” 

Alice went to stand up, her purse clattered to the floor. She had to leave, this room, the hospital, her head. She had to get out of there. She couldn’t stand to be in this sterile box a second longer. She looked back at Charlie; he didn’t even look like himself. This had to be some big mistake, the doctor was wrong, and the new results would come in and he’d be okay. He might have to spend a few weeks here but ultimately, he’d be okay, she was sure of it.

“Alice…” her mother said, “We need to talk about this, you can’t just leave.” Her mother made to grab her hand as Alice started to walk by. She shook her off and went to the door.

“I don’t care,” She yelled, “You’re wrong. All of you are wrong. He’s going to be fine. He’s always fine!” The tears started to fall down her face hot and wet. The second she stepped out the door she bolted down the hallway, turning corners until she came to a dead end. She immediately sank down the wall, covering her face in her hands.

Her entire world was falling apart. She thought back to a few weeks ago when she had last visited home. Charlie had made her a welcome home basket filled with all her favorite things. It was always easy with Charlie; he was her favorite person, and it never felt like any time had passed. They’d spent her weekend at home eating Chinese food and watching trashy reality tv shows. She thought that he had been happy, she’d been sure of it. But was she right?

He'd stopped texting her first and answering right away. There were bags under his eyes, and he’d seemed paler like he hadn’t gone outside in a while. She didn’t want to believe but maybe they were right…maybe he had been depressed.

Alice slowly stood up, mind reeling and started to the walk back to the room. Her sneakers echoed in the hall as she walked, each step a little bit closer to the end of her world. She stopped outside the door, took a deep breath and walked in. Dr. Cushman and her mother were still there talking, they went silent the second the door opened. Alice looked between them as she sat down, her mother’s hands were shaking. 

“Alice…” Her mother started, “He wouldn’t want to live like this….” She reached out to touch Alice’s hand, gently as if she was scared that she’d run away again. Alice’s mind went completely blank, she stopped breathing, her legs started to fall out from beneath her. Her mother caught her before she could fall, somehow supporting her weight when her own body seemed so frail. “He’s not going to wake up,” she sobbed, “He’s already gone.” Alice embraced her mother, tears streaming down both their faces.

“I know,” Alice cried, “I know.” Alice and her mother stayed like that for what felt like hours, hugging and crying into each other, soaking up the small pieces of their family that was left. Dr. Cushman left to give them privacy to say their goodbyes. 

Alice went and sat next to Charlie, gently holding his hand. She brushed the hair out of his eyes and soaked in her brother’s features one last time. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, “I didn’t know. I should’ve been there for you—I should’ve done something. You deserved a better sister, a better friend.” She squeezed his hand one last time, wished one last time that his hand would twitch, that his eyes would open but all that she was left with was the whirring of the machines and the rhythmic beeping of the monitor.

She nodded at her mother from across the room. It was time. Soon, the doctors would come back and the last pieces of her world, her life, would shatter. But her mother was right, it was time.