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Noah is pried from my arms by Henry, and he checks for a pulse, and Henry’s face goes white as a sheet. He pulls off Noah’s shirt and begins compressions and rescue breaths. I can’t help but scream for my baby boy. Henry looks back at me, and he looks at my Papi.
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“Gerardo, please get her the fuck out of here.” He pleads. He continues his tireless compressions and breathing. It seems like an eternity, and finally, a little cry comes out. “That’s it, mijo breath for me.”
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“Oh, my god, is he okay?” I cry out.
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“He’s breathing, but it’s labored. Is the fucking ambulance here?”
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“Hey, watch your mouth.” A woman shouts out.
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“Mind, your fucking business, you bitch,” Henry yells with tears in his eyes.
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“Henry, calm down.” Papi scolds. “Looks like the ambulance is here now.”
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“Coming through! Move out of the way, please.” The E.M.T. yells out. “What happened?”
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“He came up to his mother and me after jumping, and he was out of breath and very sweaty, and he passed out.” Henry fills in the E.M.T. named Joseph. He puts his stethoscope against Noah's chest.
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“Does he have any heart issues?” Joseph asks.
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“No, he had his physical today. Wait, she didn’t check his heart. The doctor got interrupted. What did you just hear?”
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“It’s just a bit irregular. We’ll take him to the hospital and do an EKG. I have room for one more in my rig. Dad, you want to join us?”
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“I’m not his dad. I’m his uncle.” Henry says. “Neveah, do you want to go?”
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“Henry, can you go with Noah? Mija is in no shape to go with him.” Papi says, holding Norah and me in his arms. My poor Norah is inconsolable.
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“Mama, will Noah be with Jesus like Nana did?” She cries.
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“No, honey, they will see what’s making him sick.”
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“You Prowmise?” I break down, and Papi takes Norah out of my arms. I watch helplessly as they take my baby boy into the ambulance, and Henry runs over to me and kisses my forehead.
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“He won’t be alone, baby girl. I’ll be there with him.” Henry says as he runs onto the waiting rig.
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My Papi drives us thirty minutes to the hospital, but it feels like hours. The hospital where Henry and I work. My cousin Samantha who was at the party took Norah for me. We enter the emergency room, and I scan everyone looking for Henry. I finally see him sitting on a chair in the corner of the waiting room. His hands are pulling on the strands of his long hair. He does this when he is scared or worried. My heart stammers in my chest.
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“What happened?” I cry, and he hugs me tightly. “Tell me what happened?”
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“Sit down,” Henry says.
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“Henry, tell me if my baby is alive or not?” I cry out.
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“Baby, he coded again, and they were able to get his heart started again,” Henry says with huge tears falling down his face.
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“I can’t lose my baby. I can’t.” I cry and fall to my knees.
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“Mi Amor, he’s in a good hospital. They will figure out what is going on.”
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Papi, Henry, and I sit in the waiting room, and my stomach is in knots, waiting for news about Noah. I pace the room, and Henry sits me back down. We repeated this about ten times until a doctor came out looking for me.
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“Parents of Noah Villa?” the doctor says.
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“That’s me,” I say, standing up.
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“I’m Dr. Galli,” he says with his hand outstretched to me.
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“Neveah,” I say, shaking his hand. “How’s my baby?”
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“He’s stable for now. He ran a battery of tests and found out that he has a mitral valve defect. Is there any family history of this condition in your family? Or Noah’s father’s side of the family.”
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“Not on my side. I’m not sure of his father’s side. I have no contact with his father and no way of contacting him. What can be done for this?”
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“He needs to have surgery to repair this. Usually, this condition is found quickly after birth, and surgery is done immediately. A doctor specializes in this specific type of surgery, and he is the head of the pediatric cardiology department. His name is Dr. Timothy Orozco, and he is based in San Francisco Bay Area.”
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“That’s a five-hour drive,” I say.
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“It’s a forty-five-minute flight. We’ll be flying Noah there, and they are contacting Dr. Orozco as we speak. You can fly there on your own or drive. Noah will be in the best hands.”
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“Okay, I want to see my son before they take him,” I cry.
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“Of course, also, I will have you sign the consents. They usually start the surgery as soon as the patient gets there. And time is of the essence. Let’s get you back to see your son. We have given him a sedative because we don’t want him to get worked up.”
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He walks us through a corridor that I walked through just this morning. I’m shaking, and Henry grips my hand tightly. I don’t know what I would do without him and Papi. We enter a very sterile room, and my breath catches when I see Noah attached to many monitors and an IV in his tiny arm. The beeping of the machines echoes in my ears as I approach my little boy. His eyes are closed, and his breathing is shallow.
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“Please fight, Noah. We need you here with us,” I say while running my fingers through his wet, dirty blonde hair. “ I love you so much.” I kiss this chubby cheek, and I weep.
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“Noah, I love you, buddy, and we will be there when you walk up. I promise that we will watch all the Power Rangers you want.” Henry says while crying. My Papi is too emotional to speak. He just kisses Noah’s tiny hands repeatedly.
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“Excuse me?” A young male nurse says. “The transport team is ready for him. my name is Anthony, and I’ll be with Noah on the flight. I’ll be the one to contact you when they take off, land and when they are about to start the surgery. When you arrive, I’ll be the one to give you updates from Dr. Orozco.”
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“Thank you so much, Anthony,” I say. “We will be heading out to the Bay Area right now. We will see you in about five hours or so.”
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Anthony pushes Noah through the door on the gurney. He’s careful not to disturb machine lines that are attached to Noah.
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I feel like my world is crashing down around me. Please, God, be with my baby.
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