“Chris?
Can you hear me?”
“Uh….uh huh.”
“Your dad and I are here.”
“What?” He looked at me, large hazel eyes drooped with
fatigue met mine and confusion overwhelmed his face.
“Who are you?” He asked. My mouth gaped open, my toes
went numb and a faint ringing in my ears felt like it was getting louder.
“Chris, it’s me. It’s Keri.”
“Keri? I don’t know a……I don’t know you.”
The day my boyfriend couldn’t recall who I was would end
up being a day I would never forget, and although I fought it as a reason why
we went separate ways, the truth is that it was a reason and I am now not
ashamed to admit it.
Click, click,
click. One thought preoccupied my mind as I twisted through narrow hallways
in Parkland’s ER. These leather high
heeled boots are inappropriate. When your boyfriend has a grandmal seizure, you
should change your boots into something more sensible. The noise of my heel
against the tile was deafening. I reached the second to last room on the right,
and entered. Thankful for the blue folding chair that was provided in my
absence, I sat down quickly. It was that moment I realized I forgot the item I
left the room for—a coffee.
“Did you know we never went to the moon?” Chris’s father
prompted, sitting next to me. I looked at him and blinked.
“Can you repeat that?” I must have heard him wrong.
“It’s true, we never went to the moon. It can’t be a
conspiracy if it’s true.” I took the opportunity to take in his features and
compare them to Chris’s. He was tall like his father, at least 6’6”. They both
shared a strong straight nose, full lips and high cheek bones. Chris’s face
showed something either of his parents didn’t have—a tiredness that was
shellacked to his skin, particularly under his eyes. I often wondered if it was
a result of his disease, a manifestation to mark what made him different. When
I came back to the conversation, it was futile. Chris’s father had finished and
remained silent, sipping something out of a small Styrofoam cup. That, or he
knew I wasn’t listening and determined it wasn’t the time.
I predicted I would be here, waiting for Chris to wake up
after ingesting the powerful drugs administrated to him via an IV. I didn’t
know I would be here the day after we fought about his medications. His denial
of the seriousness of his condition could have fatal consequences. If you don’t
take your medication you could have a seizure. If you have a seizure, you might
not wake up. That is what his doctors had told him, that is what I told him,
and that is what he couldn’t bring himself to face.
“You know, you don’t have to do this.” Chris’s father
stated. I turned to face him as Chris continued to remain unconscious.
“Don’t have to do what?” I had suspicions he meant being
here at the ER since I had already been here for the afternoon experiencing
interaction with everyone except for Chris.
“Be with Chris. Take care of him and oversee his
condition. You both are young, you should be out having fun.” Fun?
“You’re saying I shouldn’t be with him?” I asked with a
defensive tone.
“I’m saying that it doesn’t have to be your job.” Stunned
by the proposition of Chris’s father, I decided to not reply, and let my
silence end the discussion…..but I mulled over his words.
One day I woke up with Chris’s father’s thoughts in my
head. Chris had since been brought home from the hospital, and I had stayed by
his side for a couple days afterward and began to immerse myself back into my
school work that I had happily discarded to tend to Chris’s needs. I began to
feel resentment towards myself for not taking my school work with me to Chris’s
house. Then it dawned on me that as grateful as I was for Chris’s improved
health, I was starting to resent him. He still didn’t have a good enough reason
to take his medication. He didn’t need it, he didn’t like the side effects, he
forgot. He “loved” me and wanted nothing more to take care of me, but he
couldn’t take care of himself. How could he take care of me without taking care
of himself?
That was the question that would lead to the end of our
relationship. I can choose to be with someone who has an ailment and choose to
do everything I can to aleive suffering and to love with everything I am
capable of. I am not capable of loving someone who would not do what they have
to do to survive and put others before themselves to a point of
self-destruction. I would not cause nor condone the self-destruction of a man I
deeply cared for.
