Island Fever 2: Eternity Ch. 02

Chapter 2: "Angina"<>/i

*****

- Thursday, December 5, 2013 -

"Welcome back to the real world," Kristanna said to me, zipping up a long winter coat and tossing a scarf around her neck as we exited the small jetliner at 9:56am in the Baltimore/Washington International Airport located in Baltimore, Maryland. Kristanna yawned sleepily and looked around the terminal. "So where is this Candice chick?"

"She is supposed to meet us here outside the gate," I told my wife, my own body riddled with exhaustion. "Perhaps she is running late? Let's give her a few minutes."

Things had been rather hectic since I got that gruesome telephone call just last evening from Candice, who informed me that her sister (Pamela) had been rushed to the hospital by paramedics after grabbing her chest and then collapsing on stage at the Baltimore-area strip club where she was employed due to what may have been a heart attack. Candice went on to explain that Pamela was still very much in love with me (contrary to what I had been led to believe by her recent actions), and that my simple presence would do her a tremendous amount of good as she began the road to recovery.

Without any hesitation whatsoever, Kristanna told Candice over speaker-phone that I would be on the first flight to Baltimore in the morning. That turned out to be somewhat of a lie, because I actually found myself on a jetliner a mere three hours later.

After a call to the airlines, and then a call to Kevin - my helicopter pilot friend who often shuttled me between the island and the Peru mainland - I had two tickets for the 10:50pm flight from Lima to Fort Lauderdale, Florida which landed at 5:44am. After a brief lay-over, the connecter flight took off at 7:15am and landed at 9:45am in Baltimore.

Not only did Kristanna insist that I find my way to Maryland as quickly as possible - thus, the reason for the overnight flight instead of waiting until the morning - but she was also quite adamant about coming along for the trip herself as well. Kristanna claimed that she did not want me to go on such a long trip all by myself.

She also admitted that it would have been quite awkward, as my newlywed bride, for me to rush thousands of miles away to be by the side of a "former lover" who could very well be in the middle of a life-threatening catastrophe (at the time, we had no real specifics on her condition).

Kristanna was fine with me visiting Pamela and offering her any kind of support I could - after all, it was her idea to begin with - but she simply wanted to keep an eye on me as I did so. It was an awkward situation, indeed, but I knew where Kristanna was coming from and understood her viewpoint perfectly. I had no issue with her tagging along whatsoever.

"I never packed a suitcase as quickly as I did last night," Kristanna commented, glancing around the terminal for a blonde-haired woman in a pink coat and white jeans. That was what Candice, who was supposed to meet us here at the airport this morning, told us she would be wearing. "I'm happy that Kevin was able to get to the island as fast as he did."

I frowned. "What a sour ending to Lindsay's 19th birthday party. She was so happy and full of joy last night. Then after that telephone call from Candice, Lindsay cried for a good half-hour before Trish was finally able to settle her down. The possibility of Pamela having a heart attack really struck a chord within her; her father died of one last year. Lindsay is still in a world of hurt over what happened to her father. She still cannot believe that he is gone."

"Pamela will be fine," Kristanna said, full of optimism.

Unfortunately, Kristanna and I were literally out on our feet. With the long (forever) airline flight from Lima to Fort Lauderdale, neither of us had gotten any sleep whatsoever throughout the night. The short jaunt to Baltimore actually seemed twice as grueling because of how overly exhausted we were. Worst of all, I knew that I would not be getting any sleep in the immediate future.

"Lindsay seemed to be in much better spirits when we talked to her on the telephone a few moments ago once the airplane touched down," Kristanna mused. "Lindsay said she led all of the others in a prayer session for Pamela deep into the night. Lindsay has faith that Pamela will pull through, too."

I took a deep breath and sighed. "I'm not quite certain what it is that I am supposed to accomplish by being here. Pamela has refused to even speak to me since she left the island five months ago. She hangs up on me when I call her on the telephone. What if it is more of the same?"

"Just be yourself," Kristanna advised me. "Let Jeremy be Jeremy, and everything will fall into place just fine."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Ummmmm ... excuse me?" came a friendly voice from behind us. "Are you Jeremy and Kristanna?" When we turned and nodded our heads at the young woman standing there, she greeted, "Hi, I'm Candice [Last Name] ... Pamela's younger sister."

--

The weather outside was cold and blustery as Kristanna and I procured our suitcases from the baggage claim area. Candice had good news to report as she explained to us that Pamela did not suffer a heart attack after all. That was the initial diagnosis, or perhaps the fear, given by the paramedics. But after a battery of tests throughout the night, the physicians at the hospital determined that the pain in Pamela's chest and her subsequent fainting spell had been caused by a sudden outbreak of stable angina.

Although this is a potentially fatal condition if left untreated, it is more of an early warning sign for a heart attack. Stable angina, Candice told us, could occur when the heart muscle did not receive enough oxygen-rich blood for a short period of time. The lack of blood supply was made even worse during physical activity, when the heart pumped faster and needed much more oxygen than usual.

The medical staff at the hospital believed that Pamela, in the midst of a busy and frantic night at the strip club, exerted a tremendous amount of energy that ultimately led to the chest pains her fainting on the center stage. The root problem, however, was that Pamela was suffering from extremely high blood pressure, yet had never taken any medication for it. This news, of course, upset me.

Throughout their testing procedures, the doctors did not find any direct damage to Pamela's heart itself. They believed that medication to regulate her blood pressure, and nitroglycerin, which could relieve any future episodes of angina but hopefully prevent them altogether, was the best course of action to aid her on the path to recovery.

If Pamela refused to take the medication, the risk factor for her having a full-blown heart attack in the future that could ultimately prove to be fatal was increased ten-fold. Thus, it was imperative to get her into routine of taking the medication that they prescribed for her.

But right now, Candice explained, Pamela was still in a really bad state. Although her condition was stabilized and well under control, Pamela was still scared and confined to bed-rest, having been poked and prodded by countless hospital personnel throughout the overnight hours. She was literally up to her eyeballs in medication and naturally wanted to escape the prison otherwise known as her hospital room, but the staff would not allow her to leave just yet.

After we secured a rental car, Kristanna and I followed Candice through the downtown streets of Baltimore to Johns Hopkins Hospital. As Kristanna was on her cellular telephone and informing the ladies back on the island of Pamela's diagnosis, this drive reminded of why I absolutely disdain city life so much. I could not tolerate the traffic and all of the honking horns as we made our way through the bitter cold. I had a certain longing for my peaceful island in the tropics, or the idyllic life back on the farm in Norway.

--

"You two should go in and see her without me," Candice said to Kristanna and yours truly, as we stood just outside the closed door of Pamela's hospital room. "The two of you have all that history with her; I need you to give you guys some privacy. I am going to the cafeteria to get something to eat. I will be back a little later on."

"She's your sister," I reminded Candice. "You should come inside and visit her as well with us."

"I really want her to have some time alone with you and Kristanna," she insisted. "Pamela has seen enough of me since she was admitted last night. I know most of what went on this past summer back on your island because Pamela told me. But the truth is, it's really none of my business. I do not need to be there while you all sort things out together."

"I'm going to the cafeteria as well," Kristanna chimed in, as I shook my head in disagreement at her. I wanted Kristanna to step inside and be with me as I visited Pamela. "I need some coffee to help stay awake. Besides, I am probably the LAST person that Pamela wants to see right now. Pamela and I were not on the best of terms when she left the island earlier in the year." My wife patted me on the wrist and urged, "You go in and see her by yourself for now, Jeremy. It's probably best that way. Like Candice, I will be back shortly."

I offered her a peculiar expression. "What happened to you wanting to keep a close watch on me? Isn't that why you insisted that you come along for the trip to begin with?"

Kristanna smiled softly. "I trust you, Jeremy." She paused, then added, "Now go in and see your girl." After offering me a quick kiss, Kristanna turned and followed Candice toward the hospital's cafeteria.

I turned and glanced down at the door-knob. I had not seen Pamela since July 1. Hell, I had not even had a legitimate conversation with her since that date, either. She had been acting all been bitter and angry for five months, yet Candice claimed that not only was Pamela still in love with me, but all she ever did in her down-time was talk about me as well. Did that make any sense?

What was I supposed to say to Pamela? What was I supposed to do? I was fearful that upon seeing me, Pamela would start kicking and screaming, and get the hospital security staff to come and toss me out onto the street as if I was trespassing. I naturally began to worry, and now wished that Candice had stayed with me instead of going off to the cafeteria for some food. Candice was Pamela's sister and, if there was a vocal outburst, she had the best chance of calming her down.

Swallowing hard twice and taking a long, deep breath, I closed my eyes and nodded my head. It was time to face whatever my fate was on the other side of this door.

An instant later, I gently nudged it open and stepped inside. But I was not prepared for what I was about to see.

Pamela appeared to be sleeping, but I nearly freaked out at the sight of her with wires and tubes attached to various portions of her body. There were two IV bags strewn about, one on either side of the bed, and she had some sort of breathing apparatus tacked onto her nose and mouth. There was a machine next to her with different numbers and graphs as well. I imagined it was tracking her vital signs.

Devoid of any mascara and literally stripped down to her barest essence, Pamela looked more weak and vulnerable than I had ever seen her before. I never imagined that she could look so feeble. What had this place done to her?

All I wanted to do right now was bring Pamela into my arms and comfort her, and tell her everything would be all right. I wanted to make all of her anxiety and pain just go away. But I couldn't. I had no idea how she would react.

I set the bushel of red roses that I had purchased from the hospital's gift shop, as well as a large teddy bear, down upon the adjacent table. My eyes trained on her, I then slowly went to Pamela's side and had to hold back a tear or two as I looked down at her. Again, what did this place do to her? Who enjoys seeing someone they love and care for in a hospital bed with wires and tubes attached everywhere, with a breathing tube and machines beeping in the background? Pamela appeared to be just a shell of her former self.

As she continued to sleep, I made a motion to latch onto Pamela's hand and gently hold it. But I stopped before I could after noticing that an IV wire was inserted into the back of her hand, near her wrist. Exasperated, I shifted my focus and then barely squeezed her fingers together.

And not surprisingly, I began to cry.

"Pamela..." I choked, wiping away tears, as I glanced at her face. Although I desperately wanted to, there was no way that I was going to intentionally wake her. Pamela needed to rest and recover from the awful ordeal she had been put through in the past 14 or 15 hours.

Considering our history and the current status of our relationship - which was not good, to put it mildly - I did not know whether or not I should do this. Was it proper? Did I even have a right to? If she were awake, would Pamela object and slap me across the face as a result? Would she scream for the police and demand that I be dragged away?

No matter - I wanted to. Yes, I wanted to do this. No one was going to stop me, either. I planted a long, yet very innocent kiss along her forehead. It felt justified.

I squinted my eyes at the big breathing tube, and the sounds the device itself was making, as I appraised Pamela and her appearance. Yes, she was very weak and vulnerable. She looked nothing like the intellectual, vibrant woman I had met and instantly fell in love with back in June. I almost got sick to my stomach due to the emotions.

But still, my God ... she was beautiful. Pamela still looked beautiful to me, even in such a weakened state. Was it wrong to feel or think this way?

I came to the conclusion that no matter what, this was still Pamela. She may be pale and sapped of her physical strength, and her insides may have been afloat with deep, mind-bending medication, but in the end, this was still Pamela. This was still the woman who I loved and cared for more than mere words could ever say.

I may have been a married man - and Kristanna was still the unquestioned centerpiece of my universe - but due to the type of lifestyle and relationship I led, I had the vision of what it would be like to open my arms and fully accept Pamela into our little family and have her spend the rest of eternity with us. How wonderful would that be?

I wanted to take Pamela back to the island with us - and eventually Norway - and give her all of the love and happiness that she so very much deserved. The image of her in a wedding dress even flashed through my mind, the two of us exchanging vows and then her joining Kristanna as my wife.

Just the mere thought forced me to cry, and I involuntary dropped my forehead upon Pamela's arm and rested it there as I tried to sift through the myriad of feelings of this moment and get them under control.

As good of an idea as Pamela joining our little entourage sounded, I knew it would never come to fruition. Pamela had absolutely no interest in the type of life that I led. It was why she originally left me to begin with.

"Oh, good morning!" came a cheery voice from behind me. I turned and saw a hospital nurse, perhaps in her early 50's, step into the room and greet me with a smile. "How are you today? Are you Pamela's husband, by chance?"

My eyes wide, I stared at the nurse for several seconds before answering, "No ... not quite. Wish I was, though."

"Must be a good friend, then," the nurse speculated, going over to one of the computers in the room and tapping away upon its keyboard. "I won't be but a minute here. Just checking up on her signs." When she was finished at the computer, the nurse came over and inspected the two IV cords.

"Is Pamela going to be okay?"

"Oh, she'll be fine," the woman informed me. "The doctor needs to be prescribe her some medicine and she will need to take it every day, but she will be fine. She's a strong gal."

"When do you think she will be released from the hospital?"

"Later today." With that, the nurse collected her charts and said, "If you or Pamela need anything, just let me know. Just press the big red button on the side of her bed."

"Thank you," I nodded, glancing back over my shoulder until the nurse left and closed the door 90 percent of the way shut.

When I turned back around, it felt as if a sudden jolt of electricity had just blasted straight through me. Not only was Pamela awake, but her eyes were thick and bulging, and she was staring directly at me in total and complete shock. Or fright. Or disbelief. Or anger. Or maybe all of the above.

"Pamela..."

"What are you doing here?" she said to me in a weak voice, peeling away the breathing tube and its mask from her face. Tears quickly began to stream down her face and she again asked, this time demanding, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to be by your side," I responded, now grasping the lower half of her right hand and squeezing. "I heard you had a pretty scary episode last night at work."

"CANDICE!" Pamela snarled, pulling her hand away from me as if it had just been burnt. "I'm going to get her!" Pamela vehemently shook her head and fretted, "Candice got you to come all the way here from Norway? How could she!"

"Actually, I was back on the island," I gently told her. "Norway? How did you know about Norway?"

Pamela shook her head again. "You ... you shouldn't be here, Jeremy. You shouldn't be here at all."

"But I want to be here."

"You shouldn't be here..."

"How did you know about Norway?"

Pamela coughed and turned her face away from me for a brief moment. "Amy ... Amy has pictures ... photographs of you and the other girls together, and gives status updates, on her Facebook and Instagram pages. I saw pictures of your wedding and ... and the new house you're having built."

"Amy is broadcasting our life on the Internet for the entire world to see?" I asked, suddenly irate. Considering how many of us wanted to keep the true status of our relationship under wraps from family members, I could not believe that Amy was using social media to post photographs and give status updates concerning our personal matters.

Oh ... Amy and I were going to have a talk about this. And considering that she was my submissive, it was not going to a pleasant one for her. Nor would the end result.

"Amy has pictures of my wedding with Kristanna online?"

"Amy has pictures from the last six months up," Pamela muttered. "Of not only you and Kristanna, but her and everyone else, too. I ... I've been keeping up-to-date with you ... sort of ... through her Facebook and Instagram."

"Okay," I nodded, boiling with absolute rage inside.

"How ... how did you get Lindsay to ... to agree to stay? And she is back with Trish now? I ... I saw a picture of them hugging each other, dated last month."

What if Lindsay's mother or sisters came across these photographs, and this was the way they learned that she was bi-sexual and part of a polygamous relationship? Oh, Amy was going to be in for it. Big time!

I needed to change the subject. And fast. "How are you feeling, Pamela? What happened to you last night?"

"I haven't felt good the past couple of days," she told me with a sigh. "I ... I had pain in my shoulder since the weekend, but I thought it was nothing more than a pulled muscle or something. I went to work last night ... and ... I was feeling light-headed. I was on stage, dancing, and ... all of a sudden, it felt like ... I couldn't breath. I felt a sharp pain in my chest, and I ... I fell over. Everything ... was a blur, after that."

"Candice says you have some sort of heart condition that was caused by excessively high blood pressure."

"Stable angina," Pamela nodded.

"Why do you have high blood pressure? You should have been taking medication for it long ago."