~ A Final Gift ~
Brian sighed as he threw his bag on the sterile hospital bed. "Home, sweet home, at least for a while." He thought. His parents, Jackie and Harold entered the room behind him.
"Brian, the nurse gave me this gown for you to put on." Jackie said as she crossed the room to where Brian was staring out the window. When Brian didn't respond, she just wrapped her arms around him and laid her chin on his shoulder. "It's going to be alright, you know that don't you? God has kept you safe so far, and I have a peace about this operation. This will repair the hole in your heart once and for all."
"I know Mom,"
Brian replied, turning from the window. "I do too.
It's just that.......what if I can't perform anymore? I
love being a Backstreet Boy, and making all of the fans
happy. What if that's all taken away from me? I don't
think that I could handle that."
As Brian and his parents got him settled, they were overheard by
the man in the room across the hall. George Neubauer laid
motionless on the hospital bed, surrounded by machines and tubes.
His heart attack had come first, then a stroke. Now, he was in a
semi-catatonic state, unable to communicate other than blinking
his eyes, or occasional squeezing a hand. He spent most of
the day alone, as he had no family. All he had were
his Luciano Pavarotti cds, which the nurses played for him
throughout the day. Before his stroke, while he was
recuperating from the heart attack, he had mentioned that
Pavarotti was his favorite performer. After his stroke, the
nurses thought that maybe the music would soothe his soul, and
aid in his recovery. Although he could not speak, or
move, he could hear and think. When he listened to him
perform as Rodolfo in Puccini's "Boheme" his eyes would
dance with excitement. It was a small gift, but one
that brought joy in the old man's suffering.
George listened as Brian and his parents got him settled into his
hospital room. He had heard many people come and go
in the months since his heart attack and subsequent stroke.
He was drawn to the young man across the hall though. Maybe
it was because he reminded George of himself, growing up in
Frankfurt, Germany. He had longed to be an opera singer,
and he practiced and practiced. Then, his family was forced
to move to the United States to escape Hitler's regime. George's
dream was dashed as the 19 year old man was now required to work
to help support his 8 younger brothers and sisters.
Visiting hours were over all too soon, and Brian's parents had to
leave for the night. They would be back in the morning when
Brian was scheduled for surgery. Soon, the ward was quiet,
as the patients settled in for another night. George was awakened
around midnight by the soft, tenor voice singing quietly across
the hall. After a few hymns, the singer sang a few more modern
numbers, and then fell silent. George found himself
disappointed when the singing stopped, he had enjoyed the
surprise performance. Then he saw a light brown head peek out
from the doorway. It looked to the right, and then to the
left. The young man started to sneak down the hall when he
saw the older man watching him. "Hey there." Brian
whispered. When the man didn't respond, Brian moved towards
the doorway to his room. He saw all of the tubes and
machines, and surmised that the man was unable to speak.
"Don't tell anyone that I'm awake ok?" he said with a
smile. The man blinked, and then the corners of his mouth
turned slightly upwards. Brian sensed that the man was lonely,
and sat down in the chair next to the bed. Unlike his room,
there were no flowers or balloons, or even get-well cards.
It seemed like the man had been
there for a while, yet he seemed to be forgotten by the outside
world. Brian's heart reached out to the old man, and he
forgot about his plans to roam the halls. Instead, he made
himself comfortable in the stiff chair. "Is it ok if I
sit and talk to you for a while?" he asked. The man
just looked back. "Ok, I'll take that as a yes.
Oh, I see your cds, do you like music? Opera, huh? I don't
know much about opera, but I like most other kinds of
music. I'm a singer in a band, we're called the Backstreet
Boys. I guess you probably haven't heard of us."
As Brian continued to talk to George, the nurses that passed by
the room stopped and listened. George had been a special favorite
in the ward, and they were a little protective of him. They
soon saw that Brian meant no harm. George had a light
shining in his eyes that had been absent for a long time, so they
left him alone with the young man.
Brian soon grew tired of talking, and began to sing again,
holding George's hand. As he began to sing, he was
surprised by the flexing of the wrinkled hand in his own.
The old man pressed as hard as he could, and Brian responded by
singing
every hymn he could think of. The man watched him intently,
listening to every word. They spent a few hours like that,
until the nurse on duty finally came to get Brian back to sleep.
"Mr. Littrell, I'm sorry to interrupt you, but it's getting
late. You need to get some rest before your surgery
tomorrow."
"Ok, ok, I guess I have to go.....um......"
"George," the nurse supplied, making a few marks on George's chart.
"George. Thanks
for listening. I love to sing, I haven't sung some of those
songs for years. It brought back a lot of good memories."
Brian squeezed the man's hand, and then laid it gently back on
the bed. As he left the room, a solitary tear fell from the
man's eye. It had been a long time since someone had held
his hand, other than to check his pulse. It felt nice to
have some human contact for even a short while.
A few minutes later, the familiar head slowly appeared from the
doorway across the hall. When he saw the coast was clear, Brian
tiptoed back over to George. "Hi again. I just can't
sleep, there's no point in even trying. Can I just sit with
you for a while?" Brian whispered. He sat back down in
the chair, picking up George's hand in his own. He didn't
say anything for the longest time, they just sat there not saying
anything, with the beeping of machines the only noise. Then
Brian turned to George, tears streaming down his cheeks.
"I'm just scared, you know? This operation, I need it,
but what if I don't wake up? I don't want to leave my
family, they are everything to me. My fame is cool, but all
I really want to do is just sing. And now I've got this
whole career and stuff, and now it could all be over. I
just don't think that I can handle this." He bent his head
over and laid his forehead on the edge of the bed. With a
burst of strength, George lifted his other hand and shakily
placed it on Brian's head. Brian could feel the warmth
radiating from the older man and it was comforting. Both
men eventually fell asleep, staying like that for the rest of the
night.
When Brian awoke the next morning, he was a little unsure of
where he was at. Then he remembered all of the feelings and
emotion of the previous night. Sitting up, he noticed that
George was still resting comfortably. He stood to leave the
room, and then turned around. He bent down to give
George a hug. "Thanks George, I needed a friend last
night."
Brian made it back into his room without anyone seeing him, and
he settled himself in the bed. He had just closed his eyes when
he heard the nurse walk in briskly. "Mr. Littrell, time to
get up. We need to take some preparatory tests, and then
you will have a chance to visit with your parents a little bit
before we take you upstairs to surgery." The
next few minutes were hectic, as the nurse poked Brian several
times to get the required amount of blood, took his blood
pressure, and pulse. Then he was able to recline back on
the bed as the nurse left to take the blood to be analyzed.
Jackie, Harold and Harold
Jr. came in shortly after the nurse left. There were some
tears shed as none of them were sure of the outcome of the
delicate heart operation. Then Brian was wheeled out of the
room. The orderly paused for a moment to adjust the IV, and
Brian's eyes locked with George's. The elderly man raised
his hand slightly off the bed, in an attempt to wave. Brian waved
back, and then they were off down the hall to the operating room.
Brian made it through the surgery, and stayed in the recovery
room for a few hours before being moved back to his private room
across from George. Brian had not regained consciousness,
which was not abnormal. Brian's family left to grab a quick
bite to eat, as they had not left Brian's side since he had come
out of surgery. The hallway settled down once again, and for the
most part things were quiet.
George had spent a lot of time thinking about the young
man. How Brian had sung to him, and talked to
him. It meant so much to George. Since he had no family,
his only company was the stream of nurses coming in and
out. But, they never stayed to talk to him, other than to
ask him how he was feeling. Brian made him feel alive
again, like he was more than just a human shell on the bed.
As George laid there, he was startled by the loud emergency bell
sounding. Brian's heart monitor was registering a flat line; his
heart had stopped. As the nurses and doctors raced to
Brian's room, George's heart cried out. "Please Lord, don't
let him die! He is so young, and has so much to give.
I'm old, and I've lived a good life. I'm no good to anyone in
this bed, but he can still make a difference in this world.
Let me die, but please let him live!"
After those thoughts, George heard Brian's monitor start once
again, without assistance from the staff assembled. He
relaxed against the pillow, closed his eyes, and passed from this
world, knowing that he had been able to help the young man who
had shown him so much kindness.
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