Rapid Recovery

The surgery had gone well, Jackson was told when he awoke from the anesthesia. He felt some cramping in his abdomen when he tried to sit up. The doctor told him to lie still for a few hours until they brought lunch to help save his strength. He reached down to rub the pain from his stomach and his finger rubbed the humped section of flesh where the doctors had opened and closed when removing a small section of his liver.


Jackson turned his head to the left toward the empty bed next to his. "Where is my father? I thought he was going to be placed in the same room as I was."



The doctor scanned his monitors as if distracted. He was unwilling to answer the specific question asked. "Your father came through just fine, Mr. Porter. He is resting."


"Why isn't he in this room?" The concern on Jackson's face forced the doctor to admit the truth to his patient.


"Jackson. Your father woke up about an hour ago. He was in the bed next to yours, but nearly ripped the tubes from his arms trying to get out of his bed. He demanded that he be moved to a...uhh...different room."


"A different room? What's wrong with this one?" As if answering his own question, Jackson grunted to himself as he looked at the empty bed again. "So he didn't want to be in the same room with me, right? That does sound like the father I've grown to know. Silly of me to think that would have somehow changed after I help him out. I guess I just thought he would have at least been weak enough to get over his distaste for me."


Jackson shrugged and reached for the remote control and flipped on the late late show until he slipped back off to sleep. He was greeted 7 hours later by a knock on his door. He was certain he must have only half woken from his dream, because his father was standing in the doorway fully dressed as if he had just been visiting another patient.

"Sleep well?" He seemed less grumpy than usual, but he had been on morphine the night before and that likely still soothed his temper.

"As a matter of fact, I did. I tossed at first knowing my father was begrudged to bail on the room with his son before I awoke last night. Then I realized that I had done something nice regardless of how it turned out. Kind of an un-Andrew Porter thing to do and I slept like a baby." Jackson took a deep breath as he felt a pull in his stitches that forced him to calm down.

"I agree. It was a very un-Andrew Porter thing to do as you point out. Thank you."

Jackson's first response was shock at the kind words before he also noticed the smile on his father's face seemed genuine. He had grown up assuming his father was born with a facial tick that forced him to scowl at all times. "What are you on and how come you're dressed already?"

Andrew's smile did not fade. "Strangest thing happened this morning when I woke up in my own room. I began to feel bad. Not physically bad, but emotional really. For the first time in a long time, my first regret had nothing to do with your mother. I had abandoned you as a child and then, after your most generous efforts, abandoned you to your hospital bed. That did not make me feel comfortable at all in my room, so I walked down and saw you were sleeping soundly."

Andrew leaned against the doorway showing no signs of fatigue or sickness from a major surgery. "The nurses yelled at me until I apologized for the way I had been treating them earlier. They had their doubt and made a face like...well, much the same as your right now. Disbelief would be the proper term. So I went back to my room and realized that I, actually, felt great. I haven't felt this alive in decades. I couldn't tell if it was the drugs or what, but I sat for another hour and it didn't fade, so I popped the IV out and waited another hour, but I just kept getting happier and more calm."

"You pulled out your IV?!?" Jackson looked at his father's arms expecting to see blood running down his hand from a hasty removal, but he looked healthy.

"Don't worry, I'm perfectly fine. The spot where the IV was only bled for a bit and healed up. I feel great and it's thanks to you. I know you are still sore physically and not ready to go, but I wanted to head home while I still feel so terrific and put my place in order."

Jackson looked suspiciously at his father. "Why?

"To have you over of course. I've been given a second shot and I'm not going to waste it. It's almost as if I feel warmth coming from my stomach, but I know it's not my stomach. It's the part of you given to me. It's like I've been invaded and couldn't be happier. You stay here and rest while I head home to clean up. I'll call to check in on you in a few hours. Sleep well."

Before he could say another word, he heard his father's footsteps fading away down the hallway. Jackson smiled in relief that his journey had been so worthwhile before drifting back to sleep for the last time in his hospital bed.