Savior

Have you ever loved someone so much that it physically killed you every time they got hurt, especially when it's something completely out of your control, or something they didn't deserve? That you pray to God or whatever higher power you believe in, if one at all, that you could just switch places with them. Or if whatever deity you pray to couldn't switch you forever, but maybe just temporarily, to give that person you love so much a break from the agonizing pain they had to endure, or are still continuing to?

Yeah, welcome to my nightmare.

You see, Zeke, had always been a healthy child. Even when he was an infant he never had croop, colic, or even the flu.

Maybe that was just the calm before the storm. Though, it still manages to completely baffle me that now something has to happen. That something like this is killing my son, my little boy that I had carried within me for over 9 months. All the blood, sweat, and tears I had put into raising this sweet little boy, this long, at any minute could be ripped from my very arms.
It all started a little over a week and a half ago when Zeke started to run a high fever, which wasn't completely out of the ordinary since it could have possibly been his 2 year molars trying to pass through. He wasn't overly fussy so I brushed it off as just that. So, I gave him a dose of Motrin and laid him in bed with me. When he fell asleep I went to take a shower, not a long one but probably about a half an hour, to scrub off all the filth and stress down the drain from the day’s work at the hospital. When I climbed back into bed with him I had felt his head, his skin was searing, like he had just came out of a fire. I rushed back down the stairs for the thermometer just to make sure it wasn't just me being paranoid and checked his temperature again.

104.7

We left immediately for the emergency room, nothing would soothe him, which is entirely unlike Zeke. So when I ran into the hospital’s emergency department with a screaming toddler, yelling for one of my coworkers in my pajamas, we got seen immediately.

After they ran some tests, gave him some meds, and a bag of fluids through an IV, they sent us home telling me that 'his blood counts a little low, not out of the ordinary though', and scheduled us an appointment with his pediatrician to get it rechecked in 3 days’ time.

I trusted these people and their word. I worked with them for almost 2 years now, so it only seemed logic.

The next few night for Zeke were hell, he was miserable. His skin had become pale, and hot to the touch. Nothing would sooth him, he didn't sleep, he just latched on to my chest and cried.

My heart broke for my baby.

Finally the day of his appointment came, seeing if I could get some answers to what was happening to my once energetic toddler. His fever hadn't been high enough to take him back to the ER, though thinking back I regrettably should have. Maybe it would have prevented this whole mess.

The pediatrician gave him a once over and gave me a defeated look, knowing he was sick. He had me go down to the lab and let phlebotomy draw blood to get a CBC done.
My knees weakened at the results. The doctor didn't have to explain, I knew what the numbers meant. How he was still conscious or alive for that matter was by the shear grace of God.

We were rushed back to the hospital, where we had only been a few days before, where a room and a team of doctors were waiting to treat my son. Several diagnostic tests were ran and many blood transfusions later, they came to a conclusion that he had Thalassemia. It's a blood disorder where the body stops producing hemoglobin, which carries the oxygen throughout your body. Once they found what was wrong, they began to treat it, and for a while it had started to work. I was finally hopeful, realizing that in a few days’ time we could both leave this dreaded hospital.

I had already booked a reservation for Disney World. I was going to finally take him to the place he wanted to go the most. He didn't tell me that of course, I mean he's only two. I could tell by the way his eyes would light up when he would watch Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, or when a Disney World commercial came across large flat screen of our living room. But then we ran into a problem. One where his liver and the rest of his organs was starting to shut down and overnight, it seemed, he was worse than he was before.

Finally a doctor came up with a solution.

A bone marrow transfusion.

Of course I agreed, I knew the benefits outweighed the bad. All we had to do was find a match. Couldn't be that hard right? I mean I am his flesh and blood, I have to be a match.

Wrong.

My mother tried, my father tried, even my brother, who flown in from Boston, had tried.

Dr. McCoy, who had been the one to suggest the bone marrow transplant, had suggested Zeke's biological father. I hadn't asked him to do anything with Zeke, ever. Not since he told me he wanted nothing to do with him, nor me, and to be perfectly honest that's the way I preferred it.

But I was stranded, leaving me no other choice but to call him and ask for his help. And to my greatest shock he had actually said yes.

So at this very moment all we are waiting to hear, is seeing weather or not Eric is a match. If he is not then Zeke will be placed on a recipient list, where he will wait and hopefully survive until he does find a donor.

I sigh and stand up, pulling the Mickey Mouse blanket up and draping it over Zeke's sleeping figure. I tuck it underneath his chin and run my small hand through his once lustrous hair, before I lean in the hospital crib and press my lips to the jaundice, yellowed skin of his temple. I stand up and look at the clock, 8:47. I had 10 minutes to get down to the cafeteria and get a cup of black coffee before they closed for the night.

I pick up my purse and head out the large doorway, stopping at the nurses station. "Hey Kemp, you going down for your late night coffee?" Marge, an older nurse that I had grown to love during our unfortunate stay, asks me. "I think I deserve it." I say giving a small smile "Would you like one?" "No, but thanks honey." she gives me a smile before her face brightens as her eyes pick up something behind me "Dr. McCoy! Please let it be good news!"
'Margery Burns, you have just taken the words out of my mouth.' I think to myself as he smiles weakly beside me, leaning against the nurse’s station. "Two things" he mumbles looking down at the file in his hands - Ezekiel's file. "Eric wasn't a match"

My heart plummets into my stomach.

"But" he pauses looking down at the file, pulling out a paper "as it so happens to be Kemp, he wasn't even the child's father" He lays the sheet of paper out in front of me. There it was, plain as day. The numbers staring at me in the face.

Conclusion
The alleged father, ERIC LEE DANNON, can be excluded as the biological father of EZEKIEL JAMES DANIELS. Based on the genetic testing results the probability is less than 0.5%.

My heart stops.

No.

I did the math over and over.

Not only me, but my OBGYN.

“I know this might be a shock to you – but this necessarily isn't a terrible thing. There is still another option that could very well be a match” Dr. McCoy asks, feeling slightly hesitant to ask such a probing question. "Do you know who else it could possibly be?" I know he didn't mean how it sounded, he wasn't like that. Also, he knew that I wasn't that type of woman. I had worked with him several times in the ED, the very same one I lost myself on the floor of when we were readmitted in. I thought my baby was going to die.

I nodded my head.

"Anyway you could get a hold of him and get him here?" he sighs before closing Zeke's file "Like A-SAP?"

"I haven't heard from him in 2 and a half years. He lives in Cali, Dustin" I mumble, picking my nail thinking about the certain number I had saved in my phone. "Well" He says standing up straight as his pager beeps "He is our only other choice other than placing his name on the recipient list and you and I both know how long that can take." I nod my head up at him before he stalks of into the direction of his next patient.

I hang my head, scratching my neck as I shuffle back into the suite we were given, and drop my bag to the ground beside me, sliding myself down the wall with my face in my hands.
How, was the only thing running through my mind.

'You know how, you're not a fucking idiot!' my mind screams at me. I sigh, pulling myself together as I look at the small sleeping form in the crib in front of me. His chest rising and falling in uneven, labored patterns. His lungs will be next, I guarantee it. Then he would have to be placed on a ventilator.

No.

I will not let that happen.

He has been through enough.

I rip the purse open as a surge of emotions flood through me, digging for the Iphone 5s. Pulling out the small piece of technology and unlocking it, scrolling down through the list of contacts. My finger hovered over the name of the man who I had spent 6 months talking too endlessly, even if we lived on complete opposite sides of the continent. Ever since that 5 day stretch he had been in town for his tour, he had seen me every one of those days, I had been infatuated with Matthew Sanders.

I hear Zeke wheeze a sharp intake of breath, before letting a rattled one out through his open mouth. His body was trying to gather more oxygen. Without, hesitating I pressed his name, bringing up the contact picture as the phone dialed out. She smiled as she stands up, stepping out of the room and to the nearest vacant waiting room.

His voice mail picks up.

'You've reached Matt Sanders.' His deep, familiar voice comes through the earpiece. 'I'm sorry I missed your call, leave me your name, number, and a short message and I'll get back to you, when I feel like it.'

His voice mail beeps, signaling me to start my message.

"H-hey Matt, I honestly hope you remember me. It's Kemper Daniels, the girl from Ohio a few years back." I mental punch myself in the face, this is fucking terrible. "I-I was just wanting to get a hold of you over something important, that just came up. No scratch that, not just, but still, you get what I'm saying. I really need your help with this right now" I sigh, get a grip Kemp, he probably won’t even understand a fucking word you're saying. "If you could please give me a call back, I would really appreciate it. My whole fucking world is counting on it"

I end the call with that, praying to God that he'll call back - and soon.
Plopping myself down into one of the stiff pleather chairs of lost hope, I look over the contact picture once more.

It was night, with the light of the bonfire shining off to the side of me. We were standing right in front of my open tailgate, in the tall grasses of the field the group of us decided to party in that night. His bulky, tattooed arms wrapped around my tattered t-shirt covered waist and mine locked around his large torso. A beer adorned both of our hands, a Yuengling in his, and a Guinness in mine, dangling the neck within our fingers. Our matching Jack Daniel's tee's, mine having a lot less fabric, due to the fact I took scissors and fringed the black fabric up to my waist, letting my ink show. His low-riding, tattered jeans and my cut-off rock revivals, leaving my legs bare all except for the various art pieces and my Old Gringo’s. But out of all those minor details, the one that caught my eye was the smile we had on both of our faces. It wasn't a forced one, it was one that was genuine. A look of pure happiness.

I held back a chuckle as I remember what had happened just after that picture.

"Dude, I've got to fucking shit so bad!" Brain groans in his drunken state as he hands us both phones back.

Us, along with the rest of the various people sitting around the fire, burst out in laughter. I lean my small frame against Matt's large one as my intoxication gets the best of my balance.
"I told you not to eat the entire fucking box of Chimi's!" Jimmy shouts from the other side of the fire

"Fuck you!" Brian slurs, throwing up his middle finger up randomly as he stumbles off to the various tree line to do his 'deed'.

I sigh as I bring myself back to reality as I hear someone walk past the small waiting area. Standing up, I stalk off to our medical suite, hoping that I could actually get a few hours of sleep tonight.