Eve Aimée

The Hospital Visit

Short story

Hospital Visit explores anticipatory grief and the conflicting feelings of familial love and anger between Chloe, a young woman, and her grandmother who is dying of cancer. 

Short story

 

The Hospital Visit

Granny’s room was B307. Chloe repeated the number in her head like a prayer. The signs on the hospital walls were confusing. There was oncology and rheumatology and palliative care. Granny had been moved from unit to unit so many times that Chloe thought they all sounded like places she had been or could be. She flagged down a nurse in a mask and scrubs who looked like she was trying not to be stopped and asked if she was going the right way. 

“Head down a bit further, past the swing doors.” The nurse pointed. The bags beneath her eyes were green. “Keep going, you’ll see it.”

When Chloe found the room, the door had been left ajar. She felt her breath catch in her throat. She knocked.

“Come in,” she heard her Mom call.  

Mom was sitting in a small armchair at the foot of the bed. Her handbag was open and overflowing onto the chair next to her. She held a bottle of water in her hand and looked relaxed, as though she had been sitting there for hours and planned to stay longer. An empty plastic cup of coffee had left three rings on the windowsill. The curtains were closed.

“Good drive?” Mom asked. “Find us okay?”

Granny was dozing in the hospital bed and stirred. She opened her eyes and squinted. She looked thinner than the last time she’d visited. Her wrist bone protruded at an angle. She wore a plastic bracelet with a number on it, which made Chloe think of a newborn child. 

“Granny, it’s me, Chloe.” 

“My Chloe!” Granny raised a fist to her chest. 

Chloe went straight to greet her. Her eyes were the lightest blue Chloe had ever seen them, like a faraway sea, distant and pale. She knelt against the bed and rubbed her thumbs against Granny’s knotted knuckles. She had always taken pride in her grooming, and her skin was soft and smooth from years of daily moisturising. 

“How are you feeling? Are you in pain?”

Granny raised her shoulders up and rolled them back, trying to sit up higher on the bed. Instead, her body slunk further down beneath her sheet.

“The nurses are taking very good care of me,” she said and paused. “And I have my lovely daughter with me.”

Mom grimaced. The lines on her forehead were deeper than usual. The air felt hot in this room, and the sickly smell of chlorine filled the space. Chloe pulled at her t-shirt.

“Do you mind if I open the windows?” 

She stood up and pulled open the curtains. The light from outside poured in and Granny knitted her eyebrows together. 

“Don’t open it entirely, it’s too bright for her,” Mom said. 

“The smell,” Chloe whispered into her Mom’s ear. 

“Open the window then. But keep the curtains shut.”

Chloe looked at Mom, who had pulled her chair up to Granny’s bed. Watching them hold hands, a realisation dawned on her that Mom and Granny had a history that was entirely independent of her, that they had loved each other first. Her chest tightened. She wished she could own Granny’s affection entirely, even if it was selfish. 

“Do you want to grab a coffee, Mom?” Chloe asked.

Mom cocked her head to the side but got up and smoothed her shirt.

“I’ll get you one too.”

“Thank you.”

When the door clicked shut, Chloe took her Mom’s place and held onto Granny’s hand. 

“My little granddaughter. Tell me about your life.”

Chloe’s eyes darted around the room. The floors were a streaked grey linoleum. A plastic handle swung from the top of the bed and wires ran to the floor. Beeping sounds emanated from somewhere in the room every few minutes. A painting hung on the wall, an uninspiring swathe of red and blue brush strokes rendered in a grainy print. She looked at Granny’s small mouth and told her about her flat decorations, her job, her friends. Granny made sounds of recognition but her eyes drooped. 

Before Granny became sick, they used to love swimming together. They paddled around and floated on their backs to look at the sky. Eventually, Granny grew too out of breath to complete a lap. Then her legs gave out.

Chloe told Granny she’d started swimming more regularly and had signed up to the local pool. It wasn’t just paddling now; she was working on her breaststroke and butterfly. 

“When I was young, one of my best friends was a great swimmer. She was her father’s favourite daughter,” Granny said. “He didn’t want her to get too big so he asked her to stop swimming. Big shoulders are ugly on a woman.”

Chloe pulled her hands away from their embrace. 

“My friend. She stopped for her Daddy.”

“Right,” said Chloe.

“You don’t want your shoulders to get too big.”

A quiet hung in the air, as she waited for Granny to say her shoulders had gotten too big already, the way she might’ve when she was still well. Instead, Granny pulled her expression into a smile and asked brightly, “And how are your brothers?”

Chloe stroked the soft, white hair on her head. 

“My Granny,” she said, shaking her head. “They’re fine. They miss you.”

“You must look after your brothers, you know.”

“I’ll tell them to come visit soon.”

“Thank you, my darling.”

*

Later that evening, Chloe met her friend Louise at a bar. They sat outside on the terrace and drank Manhattan cocktails out of squat glasses. 

“What’s wrong with you tonight?” Louise asked. “Spit it out.”

Chloe swirled the ice in her cup. 

“It’s my Granny. I saw her just now.”

“What’s going on?”

“She’s so much sicker. In three weeks, she’s gone from walking to never leaving the bed.”

“I’m so sorry.” Louise leaned in and stroked Chloe’s arm.

“I don’t think she’s ready to go. Do you think you can ever be ready?”

Louise sat back in her chair and looked up at the ivy growing across the crisscross of wooden slats above their table. After a pause, her gaze returned to meet Chloe and she shrugged. 

“You know, my great aunty has been saying for years now that she is going to die soon. It’s kind of a running joke in my family,” she said. “It was dark at first. But it’s been like fifteen years.”

The corners of Louise’s lips started to wobble and she broke into a smile.

“Every time we see her – birthdays, Easter, Christmas – she’ll say, ‘Oh, I might not be here next Christmas, this might be the last time.’” She snorted, a small puff of smoke coming out her nostrils. “Well now, my baby cousins have started saying things like that.”

A giddy feeling took over Chloe and her shoulders started shaking. Louise began to laugh.

“Maybe you won’t be here next Christmas!” 

“The cheek!”

Chloe wheezed and faced the table, covering her forehead with her hand. Louise spluttered and slapped the table. Drinkers at the neighbouring tables turned to look at them. Chloe wiped a tear from her eye. Louise placed her palm on her friend’s shoulder to squeeze it.

“I’m sorry about your Granny, though.”

“You’re fine. The thing is, she doesn’t even look like herself anymore. She’s become tiny and gaunt. I didn’t see her legs but her arms…” She stuck out her pinky finger. “Like this.”

Chloe took a sip from her drink. She stuck her tongue to the roof of her mouth, tasting the tang of the bitters. She placed her drink back down.

“It’s been up and down. Every time it looks like she’s going under, the doctors hook her up to some machine and bring her back to life,” Chloe said. “Surely at some point they need to stop.”

Louise tilted her face to the side, and a strand of her hair fell across her eyes. She pushed it away and pouted. She swilled the remnants of her drink with her left hand. 

“It’s easy for us to say that though, isn’t it?” She gestured at their drinks and the terrace around them. “But when you’re there, like actually there…”

“Don’t get me wrong. I don’t want that to happen, of course. I love her. She’s half of my heart. I’ll miss her so much.”

“It must be scary.”

By now, her glass was sweating and her ice cubes had melted. The last few drops of her drink had turned into a pale orange. 

“Finish up. Let’s go out,” Louise said.

*

“And how is your sister-in-law?”

“She’s really good. They’ll be moving closer to home too.”

A wave of tiredness seemed to sweep over Granny and she shut her eyes, but kept her brows raised as if to express excitement at the news.

“I was just with them at the weekend. We had a barbeque. I stayed over.”

“You make sure you don’t overstay your welcome. They’re a married couple, you know.”

“Yes, Granny.” Chloe sighed.

“What about you?” She tried to clear her throat.

“What about me?”

“Aren’t you lonely?” Her voice was so light the question came out as a whisper.

“I have my friends.”

“You don’t always want to be the extra one.”

“Granny…” Chloe puffed out her bottom lip.

“I’m just telling you what I think.” She coughed.

“Are you thirsty?”

Granny nodded. Chloe fluffed up a pillow and placed it behind her neck. She held up a paper cup of water to her lips. Granny tried to hold the cup in her two hands but dropped it, spilling droplets down her chin.

“Let me do that for you,” Chloe said and placed her hands on top of Granny’s.

“I want to do it.” Granny pursed her lips towards the cup but did not move. Her expression clouded into fury then softened. Chloe held the bottom of the cup and tipped the water into Granny’s mouth. She placed the empty paper cup back on the bedside table.

“Thank you for coming,” she whispered into Chloe’s ear. “Love you forever.”

“Love you forever, too.”

“You know you’re my favourite. But don’t tell the boys that.”

“I won’t.”

*

“I hate myself for being angry at her,” Chloe shouted into Louise’s ear.

Louise craned her neck. 

“Why are you angry?” 

“Because of what she wants for me.”

“What does she want?”

“For me to find a man. Get married.”

“Is that so bad?”

Louise’s head was bobbing along to the beat of the music from the club behind them, raging through the doors and spilling out into the smoking area. Chloe spluttered.

“She is always giving advice. It’s never, go create art, it’s always look after your brothers. And then she told me not to get too big.”

She shook her head and took a puff of her cigarette. Louise winked and flexed a bicep. Chloe slapped her arm.

“It’s always about everyone else. My brothers can look after themselves, can’t they?”

“It doesn’t mean anything.” Louise rolled her eyes. “She’s just old. That stuff’s not important.”

Chloe took another drag of her cigarette. Her face was flushed with alcohol and heat. She shook her head and laughed.

“I don’t want to get angry. Not now. But she always knew how to grind my gears.”

“That’s family.”

Chloe nodded her head and swayed to the beat. 

“The thing is, she was so modern, you know.”

“How so?”

“She had all these boyfriends and all of that. She travelled. She lived her own life.”

Louise was tapping her foot to the beat now.

“I wish she wanted the same for me.” Chloe stubbed out her cigarette and unpinned her hair from its bun, letting it unravel against her shoulders. “I think she’s scared.”

“Are you?”

Chloe nodded.

“I’m sorry.”

She pulled on her friend’s wrist to bring her back into the club. As soon as the doors opened, the sound of thumping techno enveloped their bodies. They vibrated from head to toe. The room was packed, and had large speakers stacked in every corner. Up ahead, a few people had joined the DJ on stage and were dancing in leather boots. Behind the decks, the head of a monster grew out of the ceiling, with devil horns and a protruding mouth. The shiny eye of the devil head lit up.

“See that?”

Louise raised her index and middle fingers to form two devil horns and pointed them at Chloe. She crinkled her nose and waved devil horns back at her friend.

“C’mon, let’s go in.”Around them, people danced close together, stomping their feet and swaying their hands to the sound. Their faces glistened as they went deeper into the crowd. Fog came out of a machine and covered Chloe and Louise. They grabbed onto each other and squealed, sweat forming between their palms. A mobile phone vibrated in its pocket. Their figures disappeared together in the white air.