Textually Frustrated - Episode 5
by Gemma Bloom
A knock at the door startles Ember from her daze.
Come in.
She turns off the TV, unaware what show is on.
Her nephrologist walks in quickly, wearing a smile.
You’re here early.
That’s because I have some good news.
Ember tries to tamper back her curiosity.
Yes?
We think we have a match.
Ember momentarily forgets how to breathe.
You’re joking, right?
I’m not. But it’s not a done deal yet—
The family is on the fence about offering final approval.
Ember’s hands shake. She nods.
As soon as they approve it though, we’ll be operating right away.
Okay.
Do you want to call your family and have them come here?
Yes.
Ember’s doctor puts his hand over hers.
You could be in surgery in just a couple hours. You understand that, right?
Yes. I’ve been preparing for this moment for a while now.
Good. I’m going to get things ready and then get confirmation from the family.
Thank you.
Don’t thank me yet. We have a ways to go still.
She watches him leave then rushes to call her mom. After four rings, her mom picks up.
Everything okay? I was just getting in bed.
Ember tries to control her trembling voice.
There’s a donor. I could be going into surgery today.
Silence fills the line.
Mom? Are you there?
After a moment, she hears quiet sobbing from the other side of the phone.
Can you…do you think you can come here?
Yes! Yes, of course, honey! This is amazing news.
I’m getting on a plane tonight — I don’t care if I have to fight tooth and nail for a seat!
Okay. I love you.
I love you too. Text with updates.
Be safe and I’ll see you within the next twenty-four hours.
They hang up. After a slight hesitation, Ember clicks on her text chain with Wren.
Hey. I might be going into surgery for a kidney transplant. They found a donor 🙂
She pauses, wondering if Wren was awake.
One minute later, her phone pings.
I’m on my way.
Ember rushes to answer.
You don’t have to come here!
Really, I didn’t mean to put you out. I was just sharing the news.
You don’t have to come.
With her heart in her chest, she waits for a response—
But nothing happens. The waiting is agonizing.
She turns the TV on and then off again — because now, it’s become an annoyance to her.
She checks her social media for a distraction. Then she bites her lip raw.
Finally, there’s a knock at the door.
Come in.
She expects to see the doctor, but Wren walks in instead.
You really didn’t have to come here!
Wren shrugs.
It’s my day off and I have nothing to do. I might as well wait with you.
Ember smiles and pats the bed.
You can sit here.
Wren walks to her and gives her a big hug.
Ember inhales the sweet smell of her hair, feeling calmer already.
Wren sits next to her on the bed.
How are you feeling?
Nervous. Excited.
She swallows.
Scared.
I’m all of those things for you. What did the doctor say?
The family hasn’t given consent yet.
Wren nods. She takes Ember’s hand and holds it in her warm one.
Just then the doctor walks in.
They consented. The organ is here. You ready?
Wide-eyed, she looks at Wren, who smiles, and then the doctor.
It feels like there’s a stampede is inside her chest.
I’m ready.
The next half hour is a whirlwind of OR prep. Somewhere along the way Ember loses sight of Wren.
She sends one last text to her mom and then the drugs hit. She fades away.
Several hours later, Ember opens her eyes slowly and the world comes into focus.
In the distance, Wren’s blonde hair is bobbing as she sits in a chair, typing on her phone.
Ember takes a deep breath and exhales.
Wren stands up and crosses to the side of the bed. She smiles.
You’re up.
Am I alive?
Wren chuckles.
Yes. The procedure was successful. You are the proud owner of a new kidney. Congrats.
Ember tries to laugh, but then winces in pain.
Thanks.
Take it easy.
Ember nods, considering whether she should call the nurse for pain medication.
How does it feel?
Surreal.
She stops to think for a moment, settling on a better word to identify her feelings.
It feels amazing. I didn’t think this day would ever come.
She tries to sit up but Wren pushes her back down gently.
She gets the remote control for the adjustable bed and moves it to a higher sitting position.
Is my mom here yet?
I don’t think so.
Can I have my phone?
Wren looks around then finds her phone on the table and hands it to Ember.
While she was in surgery, her mom sent a text saying that she landed in the US.
Ember did the quick calculation — she’d probably be there in about two hours.
Ember looks back up at Wren.
You really didn’t have to stay.
I wasn’t gonna leave you here to go through this alone.
You’re too nice.
Wren smiles.
Thanks, but it’s also…I like you.
And if you’re up for it, I’d like to take you on a date. A real date.
Like, outside of the hospital.
I would love that.
We could go for sushi.
Or wait, you like Marine Biology — do you not eat seafood?
We can steer clear of octopus.
Ember laughs again, but winces.
Shhh. It hurts to laugh.
Sorry.
She moves closer and pushes the hair back from Ember’s eyes.
I’m really excited to get to know you.
She takes her hand…
And I’m really glad that girl at the bar gave me a fake number.
I am too.
Ember squeezes Wren’s hand in response. She inhales a deep breath.
The combination of hope and satisfaction makes her heart swell.
Wren, I’m excited for life for the first time in…years.
You’re a big part of that.
Well, get used to that feeling—
Because it’ll only get better from here.
Ember looks up at Wren.
For once, I believe that.
Wren slowly brings her lips toward Ember’s…
And Ember lifts her chin to meet her. Wren’s lips are soft and warm—
And the simple contact feels like an electric shock to her senses.
Ember breathes Wren in, letting the scent of her warm her soul.
The world seems safer, more hopeful…
Now that Wren is in it.
App