I am sort of haunted

You were sitting up in your bed with eyes opened for the first time in weeks. There were tubes down your throat, in your veins, connected to the ventilator, connected to your tube feeds, connected to fluids that were keeping you alive.

You came to us with gram negative septic shock--that's when bacteria seeds your blood, creating a toxic soup that shuts down your organs and causes your blood pressure to drop--and couldn't breathe on your own.

Well, you finally woke up.

No one was beside you when it happened. You coughed and thrashed and tried to pull out your lines and tubes. The monitors alarmed and the nurse came in. He was surprised that you had woken up. He put you back on sedation and eased you out of the stupor. You were tied down with restraints "indications: self-extubation." Meaning, you wanted to pull out your tubes, and we didn't want that.

The days passed. You were able to sit up. Grunt. Cough. The cough was a bloody one. We still think your lungs are too weak. That's why the tubes are still down your throat. You couldn't talk. But you kept pointing to your belly and grunting. I thought I could see tears running down the corners of your eyes. The nurse said it was just the eye drops that they used to moisturize your eyes on a daily basis.

I wanted to know what you were trying to say since you had no voice. I brought you a clipboard and a marker. I asked you if you wanted to write down something for me. The nurse said, "I think writing is out of the question." The whole team of doctors, fellows, residents, and nurse practitioners agreed in unison. They were watching me, and I felt so foolish in that moment. So I left the board just slightly out of reach next to your bed. We all left your bed as quickly as we had descended upon it.

Today they found out that you had acute pancreatitis. It must've been so painful. That's why you were pointing to your belly and crying. At least, that's what I think. I wish you could've told me that.

I wish I had let you write for me. 

I'm sorry.