#heart defect

They get the call before Jay has even finished the antibiotic from the pneumonia.

The insurance company has finally signed off on the surgery.

Apparently the data from the ECG that Dr. Lee had made sure was hooked up for the duration of his hospital stay with the pneumonia was the last straw.

They’ve been convinced that the chances of them being forced to pay out big in a civil suit are good enough that they’d rather just pay for the surgery.

Jay had to finish the course of antibiotics but today all four of them were in Dr. Lee’s office for a checkup to make sure he’s healthy enough to schedule surgery and to sign paperwork.

There will be a few more appointments for blood work and scans but two weeks from today, they’ll be back here for the surgery.

She’s never been so simultaneously relieved and terrified in her life.

He needs this.

She knows he does.

Both because the forced inactivity is driving him up the wall and because she can already tell that it won’t be enough forever.

It’s been worse since his bout with pneumonia.

They’re getting to the point where even walking from the kitchen to the living room causes a difference in his breathing that she can spot if she’s looking closely.

He can’t even laugh at his favorite tv shows for long.

He’s started taking a daily nap again and doesn’t even fight her on it.

Half the time, he falls asleep on the couch before she comes over to send him off to bed.

Worse yet, he’s miserable.

He can’t do any of the things that he wants to do and he feels awful all the time.

It’s affecting the rest of them too.

Pat and Will no longer go out to play in the yard either out of deference to Jay’s feelings.

Will goes over to friend’s houses to play sometimes and she or Pat make a point of taking him to the park or something once a week – to make sure he knows that even with all of their attention on Jay right now he still matters to them.

That they still love him too.

But even that is done cautiously and with a certain level of guilt knowing that whether Jay is watching them have fun without him or just knows about it they are rubbing salt in the wound.

So this needs to happen.

Should have happened a long time ago.

But even knowing that, she’s terrified.

Dr. Lee has talked over the procedure with them a little bit before letting them sign the paperwork.

Explaining the layers of skin, muscle and bone they’ll have to cut through.

Talking through some of the potential complications.

Making sure they realize that this will require stopping his heart, putting him on bypass so a machine can do it’s job for it while they place a patch over the hole, and then restart his heart.

And she needed to know these things, to fully know what she was agreeing to but she so very didn’t want to know these things.

Doesn’t think she’ll be able to sleep through the night without dreaming of Dr. Lee telling her that he’s ‘very sorry but something went wrong’ for a long time.

But they’re doing this.

And she has to hope that everything will be okay.

The next two weeks are a flurry of preparations and appointments.

Lists of dietary restrictions after the surgery – many of which they were already following – and shopping trips.

They’re planning on setting up the living room as an infirmary of sorts for when he comes home to avoid the complication of the stairs to his bedroom and they’ve been shifting some furniture to accommodate that.

They’re keeping Will out of school the day of the surgery, figuring he’ll be too stressed and worried to focus anyway.

But neither of them thinks that sitting at the hospital waiting for news is the best thing for him either which has left them trying to decide who will take Jay and who will stay home with Will.

As an added complication, the hospital doesn’t allow children under twelve in the intensive care units so it will be several days after the surgery before Will can see his little brother.

Dr. Lee has talked to someone in the pediatric cardiac care unit and once Jay’s been stepped down to a room there, they will let Will come in for a little bit.

Which leaves her and Pat to figure out how long to wait.

Because while the hospital policies are in place mostly to keep curious fingers from disrupting vital monitoring and support equipment – they have to worry about potentially traumatizing their oldest son.

The longer he has to wait to see his little brother, the more his mind will run away with him.

Convincing him that either they’re lying to him and Jay hadn’t survived the surgery or that something is horribly wrong.

But they also want to get Jay to a point where the sight of him won’t terrify Will and leave him with nightmares for years to come before they reunite the brothers.

They’ve agreed to play things by ear but Will isn’t happy about not having an answer right now.

The day before the surgery, a thoughtless nurse adds further complications to matters by talking about their poor family and the ugly scars that he’ll have in a hallway where Jay can hear her.

He’s inconsolable for hours; sobbing apologies for how much trouble he’s causing despite their attempts to assure him he’s done nothing wrong.

They have to get him on oxygen because all the crying is reducing his oxygenation levels.

Dr. Lee issues a stern reminder to all of the nurses about thinking about what they are saying and who might possibly overhear.

Bridget gets her son tucked in early that night, pressing kisses to his forehead and telling him that she loves him more than anything.

A few hours later, he’s standing in the doorway to her and Pat’s bedroom.

“Mama?” He calls softly.

She and Pat both sit up, turning to look at him.

“What’s the matter, baby?” She asks.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” He asks, voice shaking.

“Come here, kiddo.” Pat says, lifting the covers and he hurries over scrambling onto the bed and settling in between them.

“It’s going to be okay.” She says, stroking a hand over his soft hair.

He nods but doesn’t say anything.

Will joins them a few minutes later.

It’s a long time before any of them manage to fall asleep.