The lines on the man's face marked many generations older than actually matched the medical chart attached to his metal bed frame. He lied, mouth slightly ajar, face-up with a look of serenity, but it could be easily mistaken for boredom if seen at the wrong angle. Technically there was no diagnosis for his expression, only for his state of mind. Catatonic.
This man was tended by nurses, but not nurtured in the way that a regular man would have been. Valerie, a young studying college nurse, gazed at the man with a look much of his own, except there was no serenity in her eyes. Only boredom. She had to fulfill certain requirements for school and the hospital allowed interns to help the nurses with certain jobs. Her job was to be the nurse's nurse. But, now she was promised a patient of her own. The responsibility weighed on her as much as her grade point average did, but now, curtains back and stage lit... she could see her reward was not much more than a hand-me-down assignment. Valerie had prayed for change and it was apparent that her prayers were again in vain. The registered nurse, Ms. Glok, handed the chart to Valerie, then promptly left without a word. No word was necessary, unless to disturb the serenity of the boring silence.
She took her seat next to the man. She studied his chart as her schooling had taught her and read his symptoms. She could not find any other reason as to why the man was unable to speak, smile or even enjoy the silence of the room, save for one word. Trauma. The only one word stood out. Valerie's heart raced. She laid the chart down beside the man. She studied his features without judgement this time. She looked outside and saw the sunlight. Lunch outside would be nice.
The young nurse came out into the garden alone and at her lunch. Her headphones were nestled in her ears and she enjoyed her music and solitary. Even through her music, she could hear the song of a bird. She looked up and noticed a blue jay eating the crumbs off the ground from her sandwich. As if one cue, once Valerie noticed the bird, the bird noticed Valerie and flew into the tree above her. Valerie studied the beauty of the bird's song, then it flew away. With the bird gone, she could see the window where the man laid inside. Her heart raced again. Swallowing her last bite, she gathered her things and headed inside. The rest of her shift was uneventful and forgettable. The night came and it was time for his bathing. The men came in and Valerie came out.
The next morning, Valerie made it on time and with purpose. She had her lunch packed and she read his chart again to see if anything had changed.
Trauma.
It was the only word on the chart that stuck out like a thorn. Nothing had changed. She looked up at the man. Nothing had changed. The windows were still covered by by the curtains and Valerie got up and parted the curtains allowing the sunlight to flood in. A walk would be nice.
Valerie came out of the patient's door with him comfortably (securely is the better word, but she preferred to think he was comfortable) in his wheelchair. The two came outside to the hospital garden where she could sit with him and also eat her lunch. She chewed in silence and often looked up from her meal to gaze into his eyes. Blue. Never noticed that before. The sun revealed the color of his eyes. Her heart raced again. That word trauma entered her mind again. What else could be revealed?
The next day the two came out into the garden for lunch as usual and as Valerie finished her last bite, she promptly stood up and walked the man down the sidewalk. The two traveled only a few blocks before landing at the beach. She made sure to bring another jacket for him so that he could be extra warm. The wind would eventually cause a chill and she almost prayed that it would cause him to have some sort of reaction, but she knew it was ludicrous. She laid the jacket over his lap and placed large sunglasses on his face. Silence. The two listened to the water together. After a moment she took out her homework and started on it. A few hours passed like minutes and the sun was beginning to set. She looked at the man. She prayed he enjoyed it. Strangely enough, she felt that he had.
Valerie went home but when night came she could not find rest. She laid in bed, eyes slightly opened, staring at the ceiling. She couldn't stop thinking about him. Trauma. That word grabbed at her like a sickness.
The next day Valerie came to the man and sat next to him. It was very windy outside and rain was soon on its way. Since she had decided staying in for lunch, she made sure to bring a book for him. She brought the Bible and read a few passages from John while finishing her meal. Suddenly, her heart raced again and she almost instinctively reached out for his hand and held it. She gently squeezed it, praying. his eyes held the same serene expression and Valerie noticed that there was no deadness. There was life in his blue eyes. Life unexpressed.
That night Valerie took the man outside in the night. The two stayed in the garden, stargazing. That is, Valerie stargazed while the man simply gazed. She prayed in her heart for something to change. For a quiver of the lip, a movement in the eyes, for a deeper breath, anything! She prayed and felt it was in vain once again. Suddenly, a deep conviction grabbed at her chest and she leaned on the man's arm. She couldn't feel the tears leave her eyes.
Back in the room, she put him in bed and held his hand. Maybe his condition hadn't changed, but she had. Her prayers had not been in vain. Suddenly, she realized she didn't even know the patient's name. She picked up his chart and read. Robert. His name was Robert Porter.
The next morning she took great care of Robert, making sure his hair was combed and his eyes clear from any substances left by sleep, though she was never sure whether he was really asleep or awake. The two went out into the garden once again and Valerie felt her heart sing. She made two sandwiches this time and even offered some to Robert who silently declined. The two enjoyed each others company and Valerie chattered on about her studies and school and her passions of baking and singing. That night she took Robert back to his room and sang him a song she had written. She had never sung it in front of anyone except him. She realized Robert had become her closest friend and she didn't feel cheated. She made herself believe that if he truly disliked her singing, he could promptly be healed, climb out of bed and exit through the window. He did nothing of the sort, so she sang on, much to the surprise of the other patients who were conscious.
Soon, she heard a second voice join hers. After a taking a moment to realize what she was hearing, she stopped and looked around, finding no one else in the room. Her heart raced and she excitedly looked to Robert who looked back.
Valerie and Robert gazed at each other a long while before Robert spoke. He thanked Valerie for her love and attentiveness. He thanked her for the Bible readings and the trips to the beach and garden. He couldn't sit up, but Valerie rushed over to him and the two shared a kiss. Tears leaving both their eyes, the two marveled in the healing and as she held Robert, Valerie knew that the deepest desires of her heart had been answered.