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Chapter 32

 

Dr. Cavuoto appeared looking extremely tired. He was dressed in his green surgical outfit and had the mask pulled from his face. I couldn't bring myself to look at him, to listen to what they were saying or even ask a question. I had prepared myself for the worst.

 

I simply tuned out, and I had did it so well all night.

 

I did hear one sentence, "We expect her to make a full recovery." It didn't quite register, or maybe I hadn't really been processing anything.

 

"Did you hear that?" Joseph whispered to me. I couldn't ever for the life of me, figure out what had made my father change so drastically in such a short period of time, but he had. Even his tone had changed. He sounded so kind-hearted. "He said the surgery was a success."

 

I lifted my head up and saw Dr. Cavuoto looking at me. I saw both Maureen and John head off down a corridor following a nurse. "You can see her if you like." He said to me. "She's in critical care right now."

 

I was feeling a little lethargic myself. "Ok." I murmured. I didn't know if I could do it.

 

"We'll wait right here for you, darling." My mother assured me.

 

"Mr. Jackson, the operation went well. We fixed the problems that she was having and replaced the bands. We completed the balloon surgery while we were there too. She's breathing with the help of a pp ventilator and she's very heavily sedated, so keep that in mind."

 

**

 

I walked in dubiously. I was scared. I didn't know quite to expect. I saw her father with his arm around Maureen as they looked over their daughter. They seemed to be calm. Maureen sat down as he kissed her head. I hadn't even dared to glance at her yet. I figured their calmness could only be a good sign, but it wasn't. I actually felt sick when I looked at her. How could this have happened? The lump in my throat was enticing me to just collapse in to tears, but I was determined not to.

 

Everything that I hadn't expected was lying before me.

 

There were heart little sticky monitors all over her chest, hooked to a machine, something else to measure her heart beat, and the ventilator. There was an IV in her arm, and a drainage tube that protruded from the side of her chest. My heart was broken. Shattered, really. John came by my side as I surveyed their precious daughter, my angel, looking like the most beautiful tragedy.

 

"We've been through this before..." He said to me softly, "Twice." He added. "She's a fighter, our baby girl. She'll let nothing beat her down for too long."

 

I still wasn't able to speak. The words would have came out in a mesh, all at once, not making a bit of sense. I wanted her to wake up. I wiped my eyes and found myself hugging him. Jade's dad was a great man, one that I really looked up to; I saw in him what my father had never really provided to me. He patted my back in the most fatherly way, being my support. I never dreamed a day so sad or difficult would come.

 

"The first twenty four hours are always the most difficult, but she's going to be fine. There was no complication at all, Michael. Her Dr. said it went very smoothly."  He comforted me.

 

"Okay." I whispered. I didn't really know what else to say or to do, but I knew that I didn't want to stay in there. I couldn't do it. I needed to leave. I needed rest. I needed to cry. I wanted to hit a fucking wall, anything. I couldn't remain passive any longer. "I want to go...Is it okay if..." I blurted out, not even being able to finish the sentence. I felt guilty, but I just didn't have it in me to stay and see her like that. "I can't-" I averted my eyes away from her, feeling like the most heartless, selfish bastard on the face of the Earth.

 

"Of course it's okay, sweetheart." I heard Maureen say, grabbing my hand and giving it a pat, she seemed sympathetic. "Why don't you go back to your hotel with your parents and get something to eat and have freshen up. You must be exhausted..." I couldn't figure out how they could act so normal, how they were just able to function as if Jade had only just come down with the flu. I was getting angry with them for it, so it was another reason why I had to get out of there.

 

She looked so fragile that I was afraid of touching her, that her forehead, like porcelain may shatter. And she was cold too. I kissed her forehead and took a step back. I felt so bewildered and detached from the situation.

 

"Michael, she's going to be alright." Maureen added, standing up to hug me. "It's going to be okay."

 

I nodded again, swallowing the lump that was in my throat. "Please call me if she wakes up." I said as I left pretty much as quick as I came. I went to collect my parents and then we left the hospital. We sheilded ourselves from the cameras. My Dad pushed them away semi-aggressively. Someone shoved a microphone in to my face. "How is Jade?"

 

"I.. I don't know." I heard myself stammer as we hearded in to the car. "Recovering but... but time will tell..." My voice wavered. It sounded better for me to say it out loud. I knew deep down my girlfriend was going to be okay. Her father was right, she sure was a fighter. I think just more than anything, I needed the rest. I'd been running on empty and I wasn't able to process anything, not the bad news and not even the good news. I needed to sleep everything off, shut my mind down completely for the night and catch up on what I was deprived of. I didn't want to think about it, I just wanted to remain numb to the situation and pretend it didn't occur.

 

**

 

I opened my eyes for the first time about ten hours after surgery. I couldn't speak and was disorientated. I woke up scared, I didn't realize immediately what was going and I didn't know where I was. I felt pain, not a lot, because my head was woozy and I was heavily medicated, but I felt a heavy feeling on my chest, as if bricks were piled upon it. My eyes darted around, stinging from the light until they adjusted. I saw the face of my father first and a sudden sense of calm took over me.

 

"Sweetheart..." He murmured... I felt hot tears sliding down the sides of my face because I was frightened by what was happening around me. I couldn't talk and became acutely aware of the ventilator that was fixed, taped down over my mouth. I felt like I'd been gagged and bound, but realized quickly that my immobility had more to do with the fact that my body had just been put through so much.

 

Mom joined him and they stood over me, tears filling both of their eyes. I realized I was in the hospital still, that something had happened. I feared the worst, that I was dying. I tried to turn my head, but the ventilator kept me still. My eyes darted around looking for Michael, but I couldn't find him. That made the tears flow even more. I wanted to see his gentle face, concerned face hovering over me, and feel his fingers curling around mine, or caressing my cheek to comfort me. I wanted to ask for him, but I couldn't which frustrated the hell out of me.

 

My Dad took my hand as Mom smiled and wiped away my tears. "Don't cry honey." She said soothingly. "You're going to be fine." That’s what everyone had kept telling me and here I was, disorientated, with a ventilator down my freakin' wind pipe. I kept searching the room with my eyes expecting to find Michael but he didn't appear. I didn't really remember much of why I was in the hospital, nor did it sink in that I'd had surgery. I couldn't really process anything while I was so heavily medicated.

 

Dad noticed that I was getting anxious. "Michael will be here soon." He assured me. "Just close your eyes darling... get some rest." I was frustrated more so that nobody could tell me what was going on, but the urge to close my eyes was actually stronger than I realized. I did exactly what my father asked of me, and closed them.

 

**

 

I don't know that Michael left me to even go home over the next few days. When I had awoken again the next day after surgery he was there. He was watching me, leaning close to my bed. I had that same frightened feeling overcome me as I had no idea what was going on around me. Thankfully, Michael was thoughtful enough to let me in on it all. "I've been waiting for you to wake up, sleeping beauty." He said with a soft smile and a warm, gentle tone. His eyes were a little moist, but it was hard for me to really focus properly on anything.

 

"You're doing fine, baby..." He informed me with an encouraging smile. It was the first time that I had ever seen Michael with the makings of a beard. He had dark traces of hair forming all over his usually smooth cheeks. He looked utterly exhausted, but he seemed okay. He saw my tears and kissed my hairline. "You're intensive care...Do you remember what happened?" He asked. I couldn't even shake my head. I tried to make a noise with the back of my throat but he told me not to.

 

"Remember we were watching television and your breathing got really bad, and so we brought you in to emergency surgery because your heart didn't want to wait any longer." He explained, "And it went without a hitch, baby, and you're just recovering now - the scary part is over, so there's no need to cry..."

 

I started to remember fragments of the night he was talking about. I wondered how long ago that had been. I remembered being petrified of the surgery that Dr. Cavuoto had talked about and felt so relieved that it was actually done. Sometimes the anticipation was worse than the event itself.

 

Michael seemed to not leave over the next few days. Whenever I opened my eyes he was there and when the sedative doses were lowered, I spent more time with him. By the fourth day, I was apparently ready to breathe on my own, and the oxygen being pumped through the ventilator was gradually reduced so that I could begin working my lungs independently again. I was pleased to hear that, since I was tired of using a stupid code Michael and I had made up.

 

"Say yes by squeezing my thumb, and say no by squeezing my hand." He'd told me with a silly smile. I wished that I hadn't had a damn tube lodged down my neck, because I would have been smiling too. "And, poke my palm if you want me to go away, touch my wrist if you still wanna be my wife or pinch me if you want to file for divorce already." He laughed at his own joke. Naturally, I spent a lot of time caressing the inside of his wrist which made him smile a whole lot.

 

Just before Dr. Cavuoto arrived to give permission for the nurses to remove my tube, Michael had asked if it were completely safe and even suggested we wait a little longer to be on the safe-side, to which I narrowed my eyes at him and pinched him. He laughed lightly. "Too bad you can't actually speak, or else I might be a bit hurt." I was pissed though, I wanted that damn thing out. I wanted to speak again, I only imagined how torturous it would have been for someone who was born mute.

 

The process of taking the breathing tube out was a slow one. It was gross and uncomfortable and it involved tears and Michael's calming nature. Dr. Cavuoto seemed happy with my progress and wanted to immediately have me up and out of bed moving around so that fluid didn't settle in to my lungs. Breathing on my own felt difficult at first, but the breathlessness I'd felt pre-surgery was gone and it was a great relief. I didn't remember when the drainage tube from my lung had been removed, but it wasn't there anymore. My throat was hoarse and coughing was necessary, but it was agonizing.

 

"You're looking really good." He complimented me, "And so we'll sit you up a little bit for starters and when you get your wind back, we'll take you for a little walk."  This sounded like a task since I had a gaping freaking hole in my chest and it hurt with every inch that I moved.

 

I cleared my throat and mumbled a thank you as he left Michael and I to it.

 

Michael was smiling, "Do you know what he told me and your Mom and Dad last night? He said that your recovery was going so well and that he was pretty sure you were gonna be out of here a bit earlier than expected."

 

I was able to smile, but my lips were so disgusting and dry. "I do want to go home..." I murmured.

 

"Don't worry angel, it'll happen soon enough." He assured me, taking my hand. I wanted to hug my beautiful fiancé who had stood by me through thick and thin. I knew that by sitting as I was, with the blankets pulled under my chin, my chest covered by a manky hospital gown, looking bleak, sickly and lame, I was probably more of a turn off then I'd ever been, but he seemed to not even give that a thought.

 

"Remember there was a time when I used to put on make up even when you were dropping by my place to loan a book, or give one to me, or ... just to say hello..." My voice trailed off with a small, bashful smile.

 

Michael smiled too and nodded his head, remembering. "That was so cute. I could always tell when you were trying to look all hot for me." I felt myself blushing and went to say something else, but he cut in, "But you didn't realise it at the time, but I already thought you were beautiful from the second that I saw you, with or without make up..."

 

My heart warmed instantly. "So..." I breathed, "You seeing me like this--"

 

"Beautiful." He cut me off again, "I think you're beautiful no matter how sick you are, how much make up you do or don't have." He answered. The smile kind of faded from my lips as I thought about how another scar was going to look. I knew it would take a long time for it to completely heal. He studied my expression, trying to figure out what I was thinking. "I mean it..." He added, "I can't say that I'm finding your stomach bile tube all that attractive though..." He joked, "In fact, at first it made me feel a bit kinda sick..."

 

The stomach bile tube... gross. It went through my nose and in to my stomach so that all bile and other gross things would come up and not sit in my tummy and cause an infection. It was the so disgusting, but I hoped that it would come out soon enough. I managed a smile but I allowed it to disperse as quick as it came. "Michael..." I let my voice wander softly. He pulled his chair closer and looked at me expectantly. I felt his fingertips dancing around lightly in the palm of my hand. Sometimes his affection was so subtle, and probably just did it instinctively without really thinking, but those were the types of little things that comforted me the most. "I know you're going to say it's not a big deal but... I'm really sad about having another scar..."

 

His expression softened. "Jade, I'm only going to say it's not a big deal because it's not a big deal. Please don't think I'm going to find you any less attractive."

 

"I was just getting comfortable with being with you and...I know I should be happy that I'm okay-- but I already look like a freakin zipper." That made Michael smirk. I gave him a pout, and he wiped it right off of his lips. "Hey, I find your strength in your battle wounds kinda sexy if you want me to be honest... and sweetheart, my scars are gonna probably get worse too. We've both got insecurities, it's normal... but we love one another and we trust one another... there's not much else to worry about and no need to feel insecure in front of me."

 

He did make me feel a bit better. "You know what sucks?" I asked.

 

"No, what?"

 

"After our beautiful night on saturday... All I wanted to do was to get home and make love to you... I was so happy and I really thought it would have been the most perfect moment for us." I felt my cheeks blushing a little bit as I admitted it.

 

Michael grinned. He looked really sexy with his growing facial hair and his scruffy look. I wanted to run my fingers through his messy hair, and run my fingers along the makings of his beard. "It would have been perfect, but it doesn't matter. It just means the time wasn't right. There will be plenty of other special occasions." He promised me. I believed him, he always had the romantic tricks up his sleeve.

 

"Come here..." I beckoned him toward me. He came closer, thinking that I wanted to tell him something quietly, but I didn't. "I think you should always, always keep this..." I said, running the back of my fingers along his cheek. "You look so sexy...."

 

He giggled, "Jade, what is wrong with you, you're in the freakin' ICU, not Club Med." he joked.

 

"I'm just saying." I poked him softly in the cheek, "You're looking really gorgeous....but tired. How much sleep have you been getting?"

 

"Not a lot..." He admitted, "But I'm okay. I'm not too tired." I ran my fingers through his hair and it felt so good to touch anything but his hand which was as close contact as we'd been able to make.

 

"Well... maybe you should go home early tonight and get a good night's sleep, but if you shave, I'll have to hurt you." I joked. Well, actually it wasn't a joke. I was serious. I didn't want him to shave.

 

He laughed and ignored me. I was surprised moments later to see Michael's parents arriving together. I made a low growling noise as I saw Joseph walking over toward us. Michael lifted his head and seemed happy to see both of them.

 

"Wow! You are looking so much better, the tube is gone." Katherine smiled broadly at me. I couldn't remember either of them coming to see me at all before that, but the medication was pretty high, I only remembered small fragments of the past few days. She leaned over and gave me a kiss and then greeted her son. Joseph gave me a smile, it was more of a smirk than anything. I couldn't really figure it out. I threw Michael a quizzical look as his father stood behind him, patting him on the back as a form of greeting.

 

"Thank you." I smiled, "I feel it." To be honest, although I was grateful for them to visit, I really was enjoying my time alone with Michael.

 

**

 

We moved Jade out of intensive care a few days later back to her own private room. She was able to go for walks within her wing of the hospital but I was unfortunately unable to go with her because of media and fans everywhere. I didn't want to inconvenience either the hospital staff or Jade. It was bad enough they had to hire extra security to ensure that nobody would try to get to me. Once finding out Jade's ward, hoardes of flowers were sent from fans with gifts and more cards for her to get well soon which I thought was amazingly sweet, and Jade thought so too. In fact, so much so that we decided we would write a statement together and give it to Sarah to have my publicist read, simply saying thank you.

 

My brothers had since left to go home. We'd disbanded the tour until further notice, which a lot of people kicked up a fuss about, but ultimately the most important people realised that I didn't really have much of a choice and quite frankly, I wasn't about to leave my fiance just because a bunch of jerks were too selfish to realise that she was grimly ill.

 

It was cool to have Jade's parents around a lot too, it gave us all a chance to really bond together as a family. They were so pleased that I was going to be a member of their family, and I was perfectly honored to be a member of theirs. They had also never been abroad together, so it gave them a good chance to see some of Australia. As a gift to say congratulations to them for getting back together, Jade and I sent them off to Perth, a city across the other side of the country for three days, and also because they were beginning to smother and annoy her and wouldn't get the point when we wanted some quiet time to ourselves. They still called daily to make sure we were okay by ourselves and gave us running accounts of their trip.

 

"I'm bored..." Jade sighed, on her seventh day in the hospital. To tell the truth, I was bored too. I had, however managed to visit the children's ward for something to do when Jade was on her walks, which had been a lot of fun. I'd noticed that the wards were really understaffed and as a result the nurses and Doctors were completely run off their feet. I had visited with a little boy who had been ringing his buzzer constantly for nurses assistance to use the bathroom after having a surgery that had bed ridden him. I was the one who had to personally go and ask for a nurse for him. It seemed that the government didn't want to give health any more money than what they'd been given.

 

I talked about it with Jade, as it had concerned me a little and I felt bad that the health of children was being compromised because of staff cuts. Of course we didn't have the problem of her being overlooked because everyone was so quick to make sure Michael Jackson's fiance was well looked after. Sarah had approached me a few days later with a letter we had received from one of the biggest Australian Tabloid Magazine which was sourced by a trashy English newspaper. They offered me 2 million dollars to talk about the situation that had occurred with Jade, our engagement and more. I refused it, and then they offered me 3. Jade and I had laughed about it, because at that point no amount of money could make me speak.

 

"Remember when, you talked to me about the way the hospital was under-funded?" Jade asked me, turning away from the mind-numbing television that we'd been staring at for days now. I looked up at her and nodded, wondering where it was headed.

 

"Sure..." I replied. I turned the television down so that I could hear her better.

 

"Well... you know that interview they offered you?" She questioned me, her mind wandering. I could tell she had something on her mind.

 

"Yeah...." My voice trailed off. Her eyes burned in to mine, but she was absently thinking about something else.

 

"What if you were to do the interview and donate the money to the hospital, the childrens ward -- or split half between this hospital and another hospital, or a charity or something..." She suggested. "I mean, it's a thought, isn't it?"

 

I studied her as I processed what she had suggested. I wondered if she were serious. "You want people to know about what happened to you, and about our engagement and stuff?" I asked, knowing that they'd ask a bunch of stupid questions about my feelings and stuff. I hated interviews, I hated being taken out of context. I guess Jade did have a point.

 

She shrugged, "It doesn't bother me too much. They know we're engaged, they know I had open-heart surgery, in fact they've been making up far worse things, so why not set them straight? And if the money could help people, then it can only be good..."

 

I felt a bit selfish for not seeing it as she did. I mostly wanted to keep our relationship sacred, private and between us -- but she had a really good point. The media had gone to idiotic degrees in falsifying Jade's condition and calling it out as much worse than what it was. According to the newspapers, she was still in critical care hanging on by a thread for her life. We had laughed about it, but I suppose deep down inside Jade, there must have been an element of hurt that her life was turned in to public, house-hold entertainment.

 

"If you want me to do it, I'll do it." I smiled.

 

She shook her head, "No, honey. I don't want you to do it for me, I want you to do it if you want to do it. If you want to help the situation here like you seemed like you wanted, and if you really don't have a problem with speaking out. If you feel uncomfortable then don't, it doesn't worry me -- but I was just throwing the suggestion out there." She smiled.

 

"Okay... I'll do it. I'll see if I can get them to up their price." I smirked.

 

Jade laughed. "Only if you want, Michael... Please don't feel like I'm making you..."

 

And so it was decided that I was going to do the interview. I made a few calls when I got back to the hotel later in the evening for a good night's sleep. We scheduled an interviewer to arrive later the next evening. I was nervous. I hated interviews so much because they were known for misquoting-- although Sarah and I had drawn up a clause that the interview had to be approved by me and my management before going to print, so I was able to rest a little bit easier. I could at least show it to Jade so she could approve of the questions that were asked before hand.

 

Dr. Cavuoto came in a few minutes after I arrived the next morning, to remove her nasal tube and promised her that at any given day she could begin eating again. She had been complaining of a rumbling stomach and had irrational food cravings which made me laugh. The doctor warned her that she would need to start out on dry toast and crackers before eating anything too solid since it would upset her stomach.

 

"I want a freakin glass of coke and a hamburger." She complained to me once he'd left. I laughed. "I'm sorry baby... I wish I could help you out there..."

 

"Yeah, I bet you've been going back to the hotel and ordering room service." She narrowed her eyes, "I can tell. You've put on more weight!" My mouth dropped open with shock, "You're calling me fat?" I rose my eyebrow. I laughed from surprise. She finally dropped her accusatory tone and laughed too. "I'm just playing..."

 

"How's your chest going today?" I asked, moving around her room to check on things. Walking and moving still caused a lot of pain for her, she walked with the aid of two nurses and it seemed almost like she was learning to use her limbs again. She was still really weak and had a terrible cough, which we were assured was normal. I hated to see her in so much pain, but it was all part of the healing process and she dealt with it really well. I admired her strength throughout it all. I knew I would have been such a wuss, and probably would have thrown tantrums when I was forced out of bed to do what she was doing.

 

I guess she knew she didn't have a choice. She wanted to go home so badly that she was doing whatever it took to make sure it happened sooner rather than later.

 

"Not too bad." She replied, "But they're going to remove the morphine soon." She pouted, "Really loved that stuff..." We laughed. She had been on self-doses through the IV drip. Whenever she felt pain, she only had to press a button before a restricted amount of morphine was injected through her vein. She wasn't using it as often as she had been in the beginning and actually, they had cut the dosage by half.

 

"It'll be good once you're off it because it means that the pain is subsiding." I informed her. I sat down next to her on her bed. "I'm proud of you, you're doing so well with this...Just over a week and you're already walking around-- I didn't expect that at all... Especially after how I'd seen you after you came out of surgery." I said with a half smile.

 

"Really?" She asked, "Did I look really bad? Did I make you want to run away and never come back?"

 

I laughed, mostly because she kind of did. "Yeah..." I trailed off seriously, "You scared me. I don't know that I've ever been more scared. I was just robotic... I came in after they brought you to critical care... and I wanted to fall apart. I think your Dad grabbed me cause he was scared I was going to pass out or something."

 

Jade had a small smile upon her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

 

"That's okay... but I felt horrible. I couldn't stand to stay and see you like that... I was scared that your parents would think I was bailing on you but -- I just needed to leave because I didn't want to get angry, or start sobbing or act irrationally. I needed to save that for when I was in private in my own time... but God...." I felt my eyes tearing up even thinking back to how she had looked. "I really felt like I was going to lose you..."

 

She gave me a sympathetic glance and apologized again. She took my hand and kissed it. "Thank you for standing by me through this... everything you've done for me, I just appreciate it so much..." She smiled, "I'm sure you would have even done bed pan duty if I asked." She joked.

 

I laughed, "I would have! I love you Jade, I'd have done anything for you..."

 

She made a face, "Drawing the line Michael, drawing the damn line."

 

We laughed together. I kissed her softly and smiled at her. "Before I know it, I'll be taking you home. Maybe we can officially tell my Mom that you're moving in with me. I'm sure she'd understand with you being sick and all... and I'll bet she's probably certain we're sleeping together anyway."

 

Jade laughed, "I think it's so cute that you're so worried about what your Mom thinks, Michael... You know, she's not an idiot, she'd know that we don't just hold hands and kiss all day."

 

I laughed too at the irony, "Well, we haven't really been doing anything else, have we? Isn't it rather an ironic situation, though? Mom's probably certain we're always fooling around together, having a sexual relationship -- and here we are, engaged, both still sad and lonely virgins..." I added to be dramatic.

 

"Shut up... " She joked, "Speak for yourself... I'm a perfectly happy, unlonely virgin."

 

"Well... you know what I mean..." I laughed. I proceeded to tell her about how I'd have to leave early for the interview. This seemed to please her. "I got them to go up to 3.5 million and you know they're going to report that later as well -- but I don't care, they'll feel like jerks once they realise the money will be donated."

 

"Good!" She said, "I'm happy. It'll be good to set the story straight!"

 

I smiled, knowing that she was happy, made me happy.

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