*
“A heart block?” Sarah repeated. “I’m not sure I understand. What does that mean, Doctor…?”
“Turner,” the woman supplied. She had kind eyes. “A heart block occurs when the electrical impulses that tell the heart to beat do not transmit properly. The EKG showed that the heart block in Grace’s case is producing a bradycardia, or very slow rhythm, which we believe was the cause of her loss of consciousness this morning.”
Sarah leaned against the wall for support. She didn’t like the implications of what she was hearing. “Is this a life-threatening condition?”
“No, not usually. Grace is lucky. She’s not dealing with a complete block but rather a block of the second degree. The impulses in her heart are delayed, slowing her rhythm, but they’re not blocked entirely.”
Sarah shook her head slowly. “Why didn’t I pick up that something was wrong?”
Dr. Turner placed a reassuring hand on Sarah’s shoulder, dipping her head to meet her eyes. “Don’t beat yourself up. Without an episode like this one to prompt an EKG, the block wouldn’t have presented itself on a normal checkup. Most likely, Grace was born with this condition. Often times with symptoms like fatigue, shortness of breath, a fluttering feeling in the chest, children don’t know how to describe what they’re feeling and assume they’re simply tired.”
It did make sense, but Sarah still felt as if her mother’s intuition had somehow failed her. She should have known something was wrong, should have picked up on the problem. “What do we do now?”
“Well, the first step is to get you set up with a pediatric cardiologist, who I imagine will want to run a few more tests. There’s a chance that Grace may require a pacemaker at some point, but that might be something the doctor will want to hold off on, as Grace hasn’t exhibited many symptoms up until this point.”
“What does she need in the meantime? Medication? How do we stop this from happening again?”
“For now, continue to monitor her physical activity. Children with heart blocks can still lead physically active lives, but their endurance is generally weaker. Grace informed me she had been running on the playground before school, and that could have contributed to the collapse during class. She may have to pull back a little.”
“You haven’t spent much time with my daughter.”
“I’ll leave the hard work to you then.” Dr. Turner patted Sarah’s shoulder and began walking down the hall. “The nurse will bring you some literature along with her discharge paperwork, and I’ll get you a list of referring cardiologists. Be back in a little while. And, Ms. Matamoros?”
Sarah straightened. “Yes.”
“Try not to worry.”
Sarah swallowed hard and nodded politely, knowing the impossibility of that request.
Once alone, she took a moment in the hallway and exhaled slowly before pushing open the door to the small hospital room. Grace turned her head on the pillow and smiled up at her. She’d worn her hair in a ponytail to school that day, but it was down now and framing her delicate face with soft waves. “So what’s going on in here, monster? Have you run the nurses ragged since I last saw you?”
“Nope. A perfect angel.” But the smile didn’t reach her eyes.
Sarah sat next to Grace and leaned across the space between them, kissing her forehead and smoothing her hair. “It was scary today, wasn’t it? When the paramedics came?”
Grace met her eyes. “A little. I didn’t know what had happened and I was confused. But…”
“But what, mija?”
“I just don’t want you to be upset anymore. You were crying when you came in before, and I hate it when I make you sad.”
Sarah’s heart ached at just the thought of Grace thinking more about her feelings in this scenario. She’d always been a sensitive, caring kid, and for that, Sarah was grateful. She didn’t know what she would do without Grace. The thought ran her over like a Mack truck. She pushed the gathering emotion aside, however, and focused on putting on a brave face. She was the adult, and it was up to her to get them through whatever might be ahead. “Well, I’m not upset anymore. See?” She crossed her eyes playfully and Grace giggled. “I talked to Dr. Turner and she says you’re going to be fine. You just have to take it easy until we sort this whole thing out. Deal?” Sarah extended her hand.
“Deal.” Grace accepted the handshake, her smile genuine this time.
Sarah stood. “Hungry?”
“Thirsty. Can I have a Sprite?”
“I’ll see what I can dig up. I think I saw a vending machine on the next hall.”
As she walked, she reminded herself of Dr. Turner’s comforting words. This diagnosis did not mean Grace wouldn’t go on to live a normal, healthy life. They were just going to have to be a little more cautious and follow whatever orders the cardiologist laid out for them.
She paused at the vending machine, waiting her turn behind a well-dressed woman attempting to get the machine to accept her dollar bill. On her fifth unsuccessful attempt, the woman swore under her breath. On her sixth, she launched a physical assault against the machine, hitting it repeatedly with her open hand and kicking it simultaneously. Sarah watched in surprise before tentatively stepping in. “Excuse me?” Whether the woman didn’t hear her over the banging or was choosing not to acknowledge her was unclear, but Sarah pressed on. She took a step forward, now standing next to the machine and its attacker. “Hey, hey, take it easy,” and then finally, “STOP!”
The woman turned and looked at Sarah, blinking in surprise. She took a look around her, seeming to take stock. Her hands fell dejectedly to her side and she took a pointed step back from the machine, shaking her head once. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “It’s been a rough day.”
She turned to go, but Sarah put a hand on her forearm, stopping her. The look in the woman’s striking blue eyes was hauntingly empty. It registered deeply in Sarah, and she wondered what the woman must be going through. “Wait,” she said gently. “I have some extra quarters.” She stepped up to the machine and deposited three coins into the slot. “What would you like?”
“A Diet Coke would be great.”
“Coming right up.”
The woman accepted the cold drink and held it up weakly. “Thanks.” She then extended her dollar bill to Sarah in payment.
“Not necessary,” Sarah answered, purchasing the Sprite Grace had asked for. “I hope your day gets better.”
Sarah thought of the woman and the look of profound loss in her eyes as she walked back to Grace’s room and realized how lucky she was. She vowed then and there that she would treasure every moment she had with her loved ones and count each one of her blessings from this moment forward. Life was too precious not to.
Chapter Two
“Trevor, do you have the agency packet ready for my presentation with 3M?” Emory asked. It should have been on her desk hours ago.
“I thought your appointment with 3M was next week,” her assistant said. He looked a lot like Bambi in headlights, but she didn’t care.
“They moved it up earlier today. I put it on my Outlook calendar. Didn’t you see it?” Emory dropped the 3M file on his desk with a thud. “I need you to keep up.”
He reached for the file. “I can have it ready for you in thirty minutes.”
“Don’t let this happen again. I don’t have time for your mistakes.” With that, she made her way back into her office and closed the door, hard. She felt a twinge of guilt for snapping at Trevor. She had high standards for her employees, yes, but it wasn’t her nature to level them so overtly. She brushed off her behavior as a symptom of the stress she was under and turned back to her monitor to strategize for her impending presentation.
Lucy Danaher entered her office at a quarter after twelve and perched on the side of her desk. “Hey, there. How’s that presentation coming?”
“It’ll get there.”
“Em. Em? Hello, I’m over here. Can we talk for a second?”
Emory paused, hating to kill the flow of her creative energy, but turned to face her friend and vice president of her company. “What can I do for you, Luce?
“You can tell me how you’re doing, to start.”
Emory shrugged nonchalantly and smiled. “I’m fine. If I could just close this deal, I’d be better.”
Lucy narrowed her eyes and stood, folding her arms and coming around the desk. “You know that’s not what I’m talking about. Emory, you just lost your mother. Are you sure you should be back at work so soon, guns blazing? This has been a difficult two weeks for you, and I know no one would think less of you for stepping away for a while. I can handle the 3M deal and we can filter down some of your smaller clients to the senior account execs.”
“Thank you, but really, I’m good. Getting back into the regular swing of things is what I need. I know you’re more than capable, but this one’s mine.” Emory relaxed into her chair then, a thought occurring to her. “There is one thing. Can you recommend a company to help with the house? You know, go through everything, box it up, and ship it out, that kind of thing? It’s going to be kind of a big undertaking, and I’m not up for it.”
“No problem. Let’s see…” Lucy thought for a minute, biting her bottom lip in a way Emory used to find very attractive when they were together. “My mother uses a company to clean her house twice a week, and I know they offer a lot of different around-the-house services. She thinks they’re amazing. I’ll give Trevor their number and he can set something up.”
“You’re a lifesaver, Luce,” Emory mumbled absently. She’d already swiveled back to her computer monitor, wasting no time refocusing on her project.
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