Glad You're Here

Chapter 8: Sick of Silence

We stayed in Mark's room for almost an hour. I was still terrified to death by my 22%-filled thoughts, but Mark's jokes and smiles did their usual magic and lessened my worry. Mark's mom, who he'd taken to calling 'Momiplier' every once in a while, left a few minutes after we all got together and returned with a large travel container of chicken noodle soup and several bowls. We all enjoyed that until a nurse came and told us that we needed to leave so the doctors could do their work. No one was hungry after that. Bob and Wade arrived a half an hour or so later.

"Caitlyn!" Bob said as he rushed down the waiting room hall toward me, Wade not far behind. I immediately and met him halfway. He enveloped me in a massive hug and we stayed like that for a few seconds. Then I pulled back and was immediately pulled into Wade's arms. Both guys looked more tense and serious then I'd ever seen them.

"What happened? What happened? Where's Mark?" Wade asked quickly, pulling away.

"The doctors started prepping him for surgery a half an hour or so ago. He went under a few minutes ago. He's in the OR." Immediately, Wade cursed.

"Damn it, Bob!"

"I'm sorry, I couldn't drive any faster!"

"You weren't exactly rushing. Not like our best friend is in the fricking hospital!"

"Guys," I said, their argument starting to give me a headache. They fell silent and looked at me. "We had a meeting with the doctors a few hours ago. They said that he had an obstruction in his intestines caused from scar tissue from his surgery a few years ago. They said...they said the alcohol in his system complicates the operation and they...there's a 78% success rate." I blurted out, unable to keep my thoughts to myself anymore. Everyone was quiet. Somehow, I thought Bob and Wade would help with the whole thing, but I felt worse now than I had since I first saw Mark.

"God..." Bob breathed. That was all he could say. We stood there for a minute in silence, looking at each other and hoping for some comfort, but no one got any. After a while we just sat back down again in the squishy waiting room chairs, not able to do anything else.

I pulled out my book again and started reading, but these annoying tears kept falling on the pages and ruining the book and suddenly I was so mad at my stupid book and at the whole situation and I was so, so scared for Mark that I just started bawling. Bob, Wade and Tom all looked over with concerned looks on their faces, but Dee was the one who actually acted. She came over to me and put her arms around me. I turned my head and started crying into her shoulder, painfully aware that I was getting my boyfriend's step-mom's shirt all wet, but I didn't care anymore. I cried for a while, my gasps between sobs abating into a steady stream of silent tears. In fact, I cried until the nurse came to bring us to Mark.

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I was sure that everyone else was as anxious for answers as I was that they were practically bursting to ask the nurse, but the walk to the OR was completely silent. I was sick of silence. I silently resolved that, when this was all over and Mark was okay and we were back in LA, I would go home and lay on my bed in my comfy sweatpants and play super loud rock music to get rid of all of the silence. Subconsciously, I checked my watch. 6:43 PM. The door opened and we walked into Mark's room.

Mark's bed was moved into a sitting position and he looked wide awake and alert. The oxygen mask was gone, as was the IV and several tubes. He flashed his trademark smile at us as we walked in and it took every fiber of my self-control not to run over to him and hug him and never let go. He looked tired, but his eyes were clear and he was wide awake. His hair was almost his normal, messy style and, tucked in between his side and the bed, was Tiny Box Tim, smiling for the entire world to see.