Proof of Heaven by Mary Curran Hackett Read Free Book Online Page B

brother.
    â€œWill you please call him, Sean. Can you see if he can meet us at the hospital?”
    â€œI thought you didn’t trust the guy?” Sean looked at her confused.
    â€œI am willing to try anything at this point. I don’t think Colm can go through this again. I know I can’t. I can’t even bear the thought of going into another ER today.”
    Hospitals still terrified Cathleen and left her feeling cold despite all the modern design attempts to use warm colors and decorate with inoffensive artwork. Of all the hospitals she had been in over the years, she had preferred the Midwest Heart Clinic the most. The white walls, concrete floors, steel sculptures, crosshatched abstract art, and gargantuan tank of cleansing water were all put there to remind patients they weren’t home. She appreciated its honesty.
    She and Colm had spent an entire day there the year before, moving from one long test to another—hemodynamic testing, Q-SART analyses, heart rate variability studies. She waited two hours to meet with one of the best electrophysiologists in the country to go over the results, but he had canceled their consult. Again, she went all that way for no answers. Exhausted by the process and feeling hopeless, she never called to follow up. Surely, they would have called, she thought, if they had found anything at all. She was certain the hospital was doing something for other people . . . just not her son. As she followed Colm from the ambulance to the emergency room, she realized that all she wanted and maybe all she needed was one person, just one, who could help her and her son.
    When the ambulance arrived, Dr. Basu was waiting for them. As Cathleen stepped out of the truck, he could see that her soft face was tense with fear. She was clutching Colm’s hand, and he noticed that Colm was unconscious and had a breathing tube down his throat. At that moment, Dr. Basu was inclined to act more like a worried family member than a doctor, but he resisted the urge to rush and he walked in calculated, paced steps toward Cathleen, Colm, and the uniformed man he saw standing next to them.
    â€œYou don’t have to worry, Ms. Magee. I will take care of Little Dove,” Dr. Basu said when he reached the gurney that the medics were pushing into a curtained room. He patted Cathleen softly on her back. His hands felt warm, steady, and surprisingly strong to her. He was shocked he had made this gesture and that he was unable to resist the compulsion to comfort her.
    Cathleen’s eyes filled, and without thinking, she folded her body into the doctor’s arms. He held her, and for a moment he was surprised by her remarkable about-face, from her anger on Friday to her complete submission today. But then he understood. He knew the feelings well. Fear makes people angry, and grief never ceases to transform.
    Dr. Basu said nothing, and he let Cathleen gradually untangle herself from his embrace. As she pulled away she did not look him in the face, embarrassed by her sudden rush of emotion.
    â€œHow did you get here so fast, Dr. Basu? I thought my brother, Sean, just called you in the ambulance?” Cathleen asked the doctor, while pointing to her brother as a way of introducing them both.
    â€œI am on call and was already here. The message service contacted me and let me know you called and were on your way. I just had to come down from the seventh floor. So what happened?”
    â€œWe were walking out of church this morning, and he just went down. He was gone at least a good ten minutes; Cathleen says it’s never been that long,” Sean told the doctor, while holding out his hand to shake it and introduce himself. “Sean, Cathleen’s brother, by the way.”
    As the paramedics, nurses, Sean, and Cathleen moved Colm’s gurney down the hall and into a room, Dr. Basu walked with them, while trying to get as many details as possible. When they all reached the