I've had a surprisingly good night's sleep, considering I slept on a small strip of hospital bed and Kelli had come in every single hour to check Harry's vitals.

Dr. Carbondale stops by early in the morning to check on us. I ask him about the spine surgery. "Is there any way to know if it's going to work?" I ask, hoping for one piece of encouraging news. But the doctor admits that there is no way to know yet. He will be able to evaluate the success of the procedure after the swelling goes down, and once Harry is awake.

I really hate to leave the room, but I realize I haven't talked to my mom since I arrived yesterday. I gently nudge Mrs. Styles to tell her I'm going out to the visitors' lounge to make a phone call. She nods and drifts back to sleep.

It's still quite early, but my mom picks up on the first ring. I fill her in on everything I know. Just before we say good-bye, I ask, "Mom, would you mind calling Pastor Koskinen for me?" I hesitate for a moment, not knowing how my mom will respond. "Will you please ask him if he's free the first weekend in May? Harry and I want him to marry us."

I expect a barrage of objections, or at least some attempt to talk me into waiting a bit before planning a wedding. But my mom only says, "Of course, I'll call him."

I stop at a snack bar that is conveniently located on our floor. I bring some coffee to Dr. Styles, my dad and Mrs. Styles, who has awakened and is talking quietly to Harry. She gratefully receives it and sits down for a few minutes to enjoy it.

I resume my bedside vigil. I excitedly tell Harry, "My mom is going to call Pastor Koskinen today, to see if he can perform our wedding ceremony." Instead of crawling back in bed, I decide to stretch Harry's arms out. I gently use the techniques I used to use on my grandma when she wasn't able to move her body on her own, carefully pulling his arms out to the side and then stretching them over his head. I massage them a little and then stretch out his fingers. Next, I move on to his legs. All the while, I talk to him. "You can't just lie there and be lazy all day," I tease. "You have to stay in shape." As I squeeze my fingers in between his incredibly long toes, I laugh, "I've never seen your toes before. It's been too cold to go barefoot, hasn't it? That would be as silly as me wearing those ridiculous gloves to work. But when summer comes, you can be sure I'll get these toes into Lake Superior."

Mrs. Styles has been listening to me talking to Harry. She evens smiles as I go on about his toes.

Another nurse, Anita, comes in just after 8:00 AM, and tells us she will be taking care of Harry for the next shift. She's a beautiful young Hispanic woman who can't be much older than me. She is sweet and energetic, but not quite as bubbly as Kelli. She informs us that she is going to start by giving Harry a bath.

"Would you like to help?" She asks.

I hesitate, knowing that maybe this isn't the ideal time to see him naked but I honestly want to do as much as I can to help him. And I want to stay by his side as much as I can. I wonder briefly if his mom will think it's inappropriate, but then I dismiss the idea, deciding not to worry about it. Anne tells me she's going to find her husband and my dad who had come in briefly just a bit earlier to check on Harry. I assume they'll have breakfast in the cafeteria or something.

Breakfast, I think. I will have to find something to eat later.

Anita pulls the privacy curtain and gets to work uncovering Harry, at least his upper half for the time being. The muscles in his chest and arms are so defined. I appreciate the second glance at his muscles; I had only seen his bare chest once through Skype. Sweaters and coats had kept it covered when we were in Eagle Canyon. I had actually noticed that he had a few more tattoos, but I never really asked about them over Skype. I suppose I was preoccupied with missing him and worrying about his procedure.

Now I have a chance to examine them without him noticing that I'm gawking at him. His skin is so smooth and his warmth reassures me, along with the gentle rising and falling of his chest, that he is indeed still alive. The largest tattoo is a butterfly or moth of some kind; I don't think it's a real species but the effect is still stunning. Two swallows grace his collarbones and two fern leaves grace his hip bones. He has a few more on his left arm that I will examine in a bit, but I'm already full of questions about the ink in his skin.

Anita continues unsnapping and uncovering, but she leaves a thin sliver of sheet covering his hips. "We'll let you keep some of your dignity," she says to him with a smile, and I'm relieved. "And we won't wash any of his back," she informs me. "We'll just do our best to get him freshened up, all right?" I nod and she quickly fills a small pan with warm water and hands me a sponge. I start with his shoulders, chest, and arms and then work my way down his chest. I skip over his "sheet" and move to his legs, feet, toes.

"Would you like me to step out while you finish?" she asks, gesturing to the area covered by the sheet.

"Um, no, that's okay. Would you take care of that, please? We're not...I mean...we haven't-"

"It's okay," Anita interrupts my bumbling. "No need to explain, all right?"

My face is burning bright red at this point, but I recover quickly and ask, "Can I wash his hair?"

Anita hands me a bottle of dry shampoo. She says we can eventually use water if we have to, but the dry shampoo will do the trick for a few days. I carefully remove the surgical cap and begin running my fingers through his hair with a bit of shampoo on the tips. "You know I've always loved this part of you," I tell him. "Remember when I first met you? I really was staring at your hair. I can't have you neglecting this beautiful head of yours." Anita smiles as I talk to him. I take much longer than necessary to massage his scalp and run my fingers through his locks.

She washes his covered area and I know she's not embarrassed one bit but my heart is racing to know he's so naked and so close to me. To make matters worse, I can't resist a peek and my blush becomes a furious crimson that I can feel all the way to my toes. Anita notices my state and chuckles softly. She has him completely covered in a fresh gown by the time I'm done with his hair. I don't put the ugly cap back on his head, and I am pleased to step back and see that he looks more like my Harry.

I spend the rest of the day talking to Harry, conversing with doctors, together with Harry's parents, sending quick emails from my phone to update my friends and family.

Just before dinner, a familiar face pops into the doorway of the room, a familiar face with an already-bulging belly.

"Gemma!" I'm excited to see my future sister-in-law and her growing baby bump. She greets me with the warmest hug possible, one that tells me she is definitely looking forward to having me join her family.

"Sorry we missed you yesterday. Mike and I had to leave before you arrived." She turns toward Harry. "How's my baby bro?" She asks.

"See for yourself," I motion to Harry. "He looks a little more like himself today, doesn't he?" She nods in agreement as she moves to Harry's side and starts talking to him.

I find that I am increasingly thankful for the bustling activity of the ICU. Plus, Harry's parents and my dad are always nearby. I don't have much time to let my brain wander to the "what-if's" of Harry's condition yet. I take it one moment at a time. And that's all I can handle for now.

On my second morning to wake up in the hospital, it already feels like I live here. My dad brought my overnight bag to the hospital so that I can at least brush my teeth and hair, and maybe change my clothes. If I'm willing to leave Harry's side for that long.

A bit later in the morning, an elderly woman stops by. She tells me she's visiting from one of the nearby Catholic churches and I inform her that Mrs. Styles has stepped out for a minute. Since Harry is listed as a Roman Catholic, the elderly woman wonders if we need anything. Would we like a priest to come by to offer Harry the Anointing of the Sick?

Does that mean he's dying? I wonder in fear.

The kindly woman must notice my panicked look quickly offers, "It's a blessing with holy water and oil and some special prayers for your husband to recover quickly."

I smile at her mistake and breathe a small sigh of relief that he's not on the church's "dying" list. I tell her that, yes, we would like a priest to come in, answering on behalf of the Styles, assuming they will appreciate the visit.

When Mrs. Styles returns with a breakfast sandwich and biggest cup of coffee I've ever seen, I gratefully accept them. To my surprise, I scarf down the entire sandwich. Did I even eat yesterday? I try to remember. Then I get to work on the monster cup of coffee. The very first swallow holds that familiar caffeine-laden promise to help get me through the day.

I inform Mrs. Styles that a priest will be coming in to bless Harry later today. She seems happy to hear it, as I predicted.

After I've spent a good amount of time stretching Harry's arms and legs and I decide it's time to resume my favorite sleeping spot and catch a snooze next to my "husband." I can't wait til it's really true. My nap doesn't last long, however, when I hear an unfamiliar voice greet Mrs. Styles. I open my eyes to find a tall, skinny young man embracing her in a bear hug and then pulls back and says, "I'm so sorry that you're going through this."

He obviously hasn't noticed me yet, because when he turns to make his way over to Harry, he stops abruptly. "Oh, hi there...." he says, clearly waiting for me to fill in the missing information.

I smile at the chance to use my new title again, "I'm Kate, Harry's fiancée."

"Oh, yes, of course, Kate. I've heard a lot about you. But the fiancée part is new. Congratulations!" I'm Dave Farraday, Harry's college roommate." He gives me an enormous hug and a friendly kiss on the cheek.

Mrs. Styles interrupts and says, "Well, that, and Dave has been his best friend since they were in preschool."

I chuckle with recognition, "Oh, Dave," I say in an exaggerated tone. "Harry has told me some fascinating stories about you."

He laughs and says, "I'll bet he has."

He loses the mirth in his voice and asks, "So, how is he today?"

"Not much different," I admit. "He's been in a coma since Thursday."

"Hmm, a couple days, then? Harry is tough; he'll come out of this. He will, Kate." I am comforted by his assurance as he holds my arms firmly and looks me in the eyes.

I'm touched as Dave turns to Harry and grabs his right hand, as if he's shaking it. Then he talks to Harry as if he's awake, sitting with him at the bar or in their dorm room. "Hey, Bud. How 'ya doing? You know you'd better wake up soon or I'm going to start telling Kate some of your fascinating stories."

I laugh at the idea of Harry making mischief with his best friend. I imagine the three of us, sitting around a table, having a beer and listening to the guys trying to outdo each other with humiliating stories from their school days. I close my eyes and hope that, if I just keep imagining the scene, our surroundings will magically change.

Dave eventually stops talking to Harry and returns his attention to me. "So, you're engaged? Harry didn't waste any time, did he?"

"No," I agree. "I know it seems really fast, but we just clicked right away, and it didn't take long for us to realize we were right for each other." I hesitate. "Does it seem weird to you that it happened so quickly?"

"It's a little surprising, but Harry has always been solid. He only had a few other girlfriends before the accident. After that, his focus was all about therapy and treatment. But he is tenacious, I'll give you that. When he knows what he wants, he goes for it." I blush, happy with the confirmation that Dave has given me, that Harry really did fall in love with me at first sight.

Dr. Styles and my dad return just as Dave is leaving. Dave gives Dr. Styles a hearty handshake and they catch up for a bit. My dad puts his arm around my shoulders as I stare at my fiancé. "How are you doing today?"

I lean my head on his shoulder and tell him, "I don't know. I'm just moving through each moment, not really thinking about it too much. When I do get a chance to think, I start to get kind of angry. It's not fair, you know? I just found Harry, and now, I might lose him." I finish in a hushed voice, forcing back tears.

"You won't lose him, Kate. You heard the doctors. He's healthy and strong. And he loves you. He's a lucky man to be getting my girl as his wife." He kisses my head and squeezes my shoulders. "He's not going anywhere."

Lunch time comes and goes. Then, more doctors, nurses, and vitals checks. More talking to Harry, more poking and prodding to get him to respond. It's becoming what feels like a never-ending cycle, even thought it's only been a few days.

During an exceptional lull in the activity, a short young man dressed in black arrives. He's wearing a white collar. It registers in my brain that he must be the priest from Harry's church, but I can't believe a priest could be so young. He's only in his late 20's as far as I can tell. Every priest I've met before has been at least fifty years old.

Mrs. Styles greets him with a friendly hug and exclaims, "Father Ben! Thank you for coming." She turns to me and makes the introductions.

"Father Ben went to school with Gemma," she informs me. It must be strange for her to call her daughter's high school friend Father.

The priest retrieves a few items from his pocket: two small bottles, one of holy water and one of oil. As he recites the prayers, he uses the water and the oil to trace crosses on Harry's head. It's a new experience for me, but the soft ritual quiets my heart. Father Ben finishes the prayers and informs us on the way out, "There is a chapel downstairs, on the first floor, if any of you would like a quiet place to pray."

He hasn't been gone long when I decide. "I'm going to the chapel," I announce. "I won't be gone long. Please come and get me if anything happens."

After stopping two or three times to ask for directions, I find the small room. It's a simple space with a wooden cross hung on the wall and three rows of chairs. The walls are covered in a soothing shade of blue. The room must be well insulated, because it is very quiet and peaceful. There is a basket holding about ten different Bibles. The room has a distinct smell, not completely unpleasant, but something like burnt vanilla.

I sit down. I'm not sure what to do or say. I feel out of my element, being so far from home. I remain still for a bit, but my whimpers break the silence. Whimpers that quickly turn into huge, ugly, body-wracking sobs. I sound like a little kid who just fell off her bike and scraped her knee, but I let myself cry for a long time.

Then I speak in a hoarse whisper, "God, I'm so scared. I don't know what to do. I don't know what you want me to do. I'll do anything if you save Harry. Please don't let him die."

I hope for an earth-shattering revelation. Instead, I have a small stirring in my heart. The words, "Trust Me" come into my head. I've been drifting away from God for several years, but I'm pretty sure I didn't make those words up in my brain. I know I just heard God speak to me.

"How can I trust you? I'm so afraid that Harry is going to die. You can't take him away. Please don't take him away." I listen intently because I want to hear God's voice again. I want Him to assure me that Harry won't die, that he will wake up soon.

I reach into the pocket of my jeans, searching for more tissues, but instead I find a crumpled piece of paper. I open it and see Romans 8:28-38 written on it. Oh, right, the Scripture that Harry had told me to read if I got scared.

I look through the basket of Bibles and find one that looks like the one my parents have at home. I find Romans 8 and start reading. To be honest, it doesn't all make sense to me. But I do understand two things: one, that God can bring good out of any situation, and two, that He loves both Harry and me without limits. I'm comforted by the words, mainly because I know they are God's words, but also because I feel as if Harry is speaking to me through them as well. He knew I'd need God's assurance during this time.

I sit for a while longer but I don't hear anything more. I just say quietly in my heart, Okay, God, I will trust You, but You have to help me. Please.

When I leave the chapel, I feel much more serene.

* * * * *

I'm all too familiar with the feeling of the ICU and how it becomes your whole life even if you're only there for a few short days. The world outside seems to stop and you begin living in this alternate reality, talking about things you never thought you'd have to talk about. It's definitely a place where a lot of people experience God's presence and peace, not because the circumstances are particularly peaceful, but because that's when we need him the most.

In case you're interested, here's the full passage from Romans 8:28-38.

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters. And those he predestined, he also called; those he called, he also justified; those he justified, he also glorified.

What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. Who then is the one who condemns? No one. Christ Jesus who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?As it is written:

"For your sake we face death all day long;
we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered."

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.