Read Online Taylor's Gift by Tara Storch - Free Book Online Page B

their spring break. Texting back and forth, he told me there weren’t any commercial flights between Montana and Grand Junction. Bill had a private pilot’s license and he could fly himself, but he still needed to find a plane.And then there was the weather. A couple of hours earlier he’d texted me and said he was on his way, but I still had no idea how he’d made it happen—I was just so thankful to see him.
    â€œLet me fill you in,” I said as we sat down.
    I updated him on what the neurosurgeon had told us, and he told us how he’d gotten to Grand Junction. Through a series of connections he’d finally found a pilot with a plane, but the weather was too bad. But suddenly a two-hour window of good weather between Montana and Grand Junction had opened up. Just enough time for them to make it, if they left immediately. I knew instantly that God had done it. Thank you . I marveled at the miracle, but I knew we needed at least one more.
    Behind me, I heard doors opening and turned to see who else was coming. A nurse had pushed open the doors that led to the Intensive Care Unit, and she was now walking toward us. “Are you Taylor’s parents?” she asked.
    I nodded.
    â€œYou can see her now.”
    __________________
    * Some names and identifying features of people mentioned in the book have been changed. In the case of medical professionals, some composite characters were created to simplify the story for the reader. In addition, the time frame of certain events has been adjusted for clarity.

8 Holding On to Taylor
    Tara
    I jumped up from the loveseat and rushed toward the open ICU doors, desperate to see Taylor. The nurse pointed to a room at the end of the short hallway. When I reached the door, I paused before entering. My heart was pumping madly and my stomach churned. What will I see when I open the door? Todd caught up with me, with Bill right behind us. I slid open the glass door and Todd entered first. As soon as Todd saw her, he burst into tears.
    â€œTaylor, no !” I said as I moved past him to the far side of the bed, away from the tubes and wires that seemed to be attached to every part of her. “Baby, I’m here. Mommy is here!” I said. I climbed into bed next to her. I wanted to be as close as possible to Taylor and to feel her warm body next to mine.
    â€œTaylor, Taylor! The doctors are wrong. Taylor, wake up! Please wake up,” I pleaded. In the Vail ER, they’d told us that whenever we spoke to Taylor, her blood pressure would rise and that was a good sign. I wanted the doctors at St. Mary’s to see that too, to know she was still responsive. “Taylor, please wake up. Taylor, baby, please! Mommy and Daddy are here. We’re here, baby. We’re here.”
    We didn’t want much, just a flicker of an eyelid, a twitch of a finger, or even her heart rate or blood pressure to increase slightly. I rubbed her face, her chest, and I kissed her. I saw Todd rubbing her foot and heard him telling her how much we loved her. I tried to think of anything else that would prompt her to respond.
    â€œShow us you’re okay, baby, just move something!” Any positive sign would do, just something to show the doctors, and us, that she could respond, that her brain was still functioning. “Please just show the doctors that they’re wrong, show them you’re still here.”
    Nothing.
    I remained on her right side, trying to avoid the rods that were elevating the sheet on her left leg. I knew I was out of control—the nurses down the hall could probably hear my wailing—but I didn’t care. I looked up at my beautiful daughter’s face. Even though she had a trach, stitches on her head, and blood in her hair, someone had taken the time to comb her hair and pull it back. I touched her face and saw a slight scrape on her cheek. For all the trauma she’d been through, she looked like herself, like my