CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Nesting
As Parks and his colleagues predicted, Dan’s bouts of sleep came closer together and lasted longer as the days progressed. When the Eagles won the sectionals on Saturday, he was in the hospital and had been asleep for 16 hours. When they won the regionals on June 16, Dan was in the midst of a three-day sleep, and, as the semi-state loomed on June 23, Dan was sleeping four days for every eight hours he was awake.
The luck of timing was on his side in one way, though, as he awoke at 10 am that morning of the semi-state game, and he was able to watch the Eagles play the Columbia Knights on the hospital’s cable system. It was a tight game, and South Pickens entered the ninth inning behind 3-2. With a man on first and two outs, Waterman came to the plate and walloped a ball deep into left field. It hit just in front of the fence and rattled around against the wall before the left fielder could get a handle on it. That was long enough for the lead runner to score and for Ted to lumber all the way to third base. The next batter, Sam Rolfe, slapped a single into right field to score Waterman but was thrown out trying to make it to second base.
It didn’t matter, though, because reliever Ab Ansley pitched a perfect ninth, and the Eagles advanced.
Dan was out by 8 o’clock that night, and his family didn’t know if he would wake up again. Every time he closed his eyes, it was as if he were leaving forever, and the Hodges were caught in a soul-shredding cycle of mourning and hope that left them exhausted and confused. Even with his solid standing at HBM, David had to keep regular hours at work, but he spent every spare moment he could find in the hospital room with Dan.
Clara was there all day every day, and her nerves were frayed to the point she couldn’t hold a normal conversation without snapping at someone. That someone was often Gabbie, who came to the hospital several times a day and was struggling to figure out what her future held. She loved Dan, but she was young and had so much to look forward to — she had graduated from high school just a few weeks earlier. Could she really chain herself to a man who might die at any moment and who was not available for her and their son on a consistent basis?
She didn’t know, but she did know she had to figure it out soon.
And so it was that David walked into a silent hospital room on the evening of June 28 to find Clara asleep in a chair next to Dan’s bed and Gabbie standing at the window watching the Friday traffic head home after a long work week. She was oblivious to David’s presence and held a slumbering Troy in her arms.
It had been a long and trying week for the Hodges, and for Gabbie, as it appeared Dan had entered a steady hibernation state. He had not been awake in nearly a week, and, as of Friday morning, was exhibiting no REM sleep and no nocturnal movements. For all intents and purposes, Dan was indeed sleeping like a log.
That was bad enough on its surface since it meant the family was missing out on time with their boy, but it was made all the worse by the decisions it necessitated. In particular, David and Dan’s insurance company had determined they would pay only for ordinary hospital stays, which they described as short-term visits of seven days or less.
Dr. Parks had done his best to game the system in their favor by checking Dan in and out of the hospital and moving him around every time he woke up, but the insurance company had sent their own doctor to consult with Parks. When the Hodges’ physician detailed Dan’s condition, Poly Health had explained they would NOT pay for an extended stay once Dan went into full-blown hibernation. So, as July dawned, the family would be forced to bring their son home. While that was where they wanted him to be, both David and Clara remembered the uncertainty such a situation created the year before, and they feared they would not be able to handle medical emergencies that might arise.
Parks had become something of a family friend and vowed to check in on Dan regularly, in person or by phone, but even that assurance did little to quell the uneasiness.
It didn’t really matter how he felt or how scared Clara was, though, because David knew they had no choice. So, the family would spend one last night together in the hospital and then, on Saturday morning, David would load his son into the car and they would all head home. Gabbie and Clara had already prepared Dan’s room for his return, making space for a heart monitor and IV drip, which would keep tabs on Dan’s condition and keep him nourished while he was asleep. Both women had also learned how to change out the IV, since they couldn’t afford to pay an in-home nurse and since insurance would not cover that expense, either.
With these thoughts weighing heavy on his mind, David stepped from the hall doorway into the murkiness of Dan’s room and made his way toward his son’s side. Before his eyes could adjust to the darkness, David heard a whisper from the middle of the gloom.
“Dad,” a hoarse whisper rang out. “Dad … why is it so quiet in here?”
David lunged toward the bed and leaned in close to Dan to find the boy’s big brown eyes looking up at him.
“Dan!” David said and hugged his prone son.
Dan gave his father’s shoulders a weak squeeze and said, “When is it, Dad?”
“When is what?” David said, standing to focus on Dan’s face.
“When is NOW?” Dan asked. “Is it over? How long was I out?”
David shook his head. “No, son, you’ve been asleep less than a week. It’s just late June.”
Dan squinted, and David knew he was running calculations in his head.
“How late, Dad?” Dan probed.
David smiled. “It’s June 28, Dan,” he said.
Dan’s face brightened, and his eyes widened. “So the semi-state was last week,” he said. “Come on, Dad, tell me: how did the Eagles do?”
David, still grinning, said, “They won, son. They won.”
“Yes!” Dan exclaimed and pumped his fist. He tried to sit up but was still too groggy and plopped back down on the mattress. “So they’re playing for the state title?” He could hardly believe it.
“That’s right, Dan,” David said. “They’re playing Evansville St. Lydia tomorrow evening at 6.”
Dan adjusted himself in the bed, and determination hardened his face. He fixed David with a steely gaze and said, “I’m going to that game, Dad.”
—
“I strongly advise you to reconsider this decision,” Dr. Parks said to the room later that Friday night, looking from David to Dan.
Clara stood at the doctor’s side, fidgeting with the elbow of his white coat and pleading with her eyes for her husband and son to listen to reason.
“What do I have to lose, Doc?” Dan asked. “I mean, everyone thought I was done already, right? I’m in extra innings, so I might as well use them to my advantage.”
“But you’re not well, honey,” Clara said.
“There’s nothing wrong with me except I can’t stay awake for more than three months at a time, Mom,” Dan protested. “You haven’t found one single thing wrong with me other than that, have you, Doctor?”
“Well, no,” Parks admitted. “But, Dan, we just don’t know what will happen …”
“We don’t know what will happen if I just lie here in this bed for the next nine months or a year or THREE years, either!” Dan interjected. “Maybe a cooling unit will fall through the ceiling and crush me as I sleep. Maybe I’ll get a blood clot and die next week. Maybe I’ll sleep for the next 20 years like Rip Van Winkle! You don’t know what’s going to happen, and neither do I, so I might as well live while I can!”
Dan was breathing hard and fast, his nostrils flaring. He looked from face to face, and Clara, David, Parks, and Gabbie all greeted him with sheepish eyes and down-turned heads. When he glanced at Troy, though, the baby reached forward and gurgled, “Ayeee!” then smiled and laughed.
Dan stopped for a beat, before bursting into laughter. The rest of the adults followed suit, and Dan reached forward to pull his son onto his chest.