AN: So it appears fan may have had a few technical difficulties the last couple of days. Now I am behind again with my target of posting all before 22nd September. Oh well there may be another bonus chapter soon. Thank you to all who are favouriting and following this story and a big special thank you to all who are leaving reviews, comments, and even recipes for some awesome cocktails ;-). So here is chapter 6. I hope you like it.
Chapter 6:
It took a while for the man to fully wake up and when he did it took him another little while to realise he was in hospital and these people surrounding him and poking and prodding him were obviously doctors and nurses. Slowly the world came into focus and he was actually capable of using the spoken word, "Water?"
A blonde nurse handed him a plastic cup with a straw, probably a ten or more years older than himself. She helped him manoeuvre the straw into a position that allowed him to drink without moving his head, which currently felt too damn heavy to move. "Not too much, your body isn't used to having anything in the stomach at the moment," she said.
What the hell had happened to him? A man came into his view, wearing a white coat with a stethoscope slung around his neck, light blue business shirt and a striped yellow and blue tie, the universal uniform of a doctor. It was so cliché as to be laughable if he didn't feel like vomiting instead. "Glad to see you finally awake, how are you feeling?"
The man wanted to say something smart and witty, but instead all he could managed was, "not good."
"Well that is understandable, you got quite a hit to the head. Do you remember how you got here?"
The man made an effort (thought honestly not a really big effort) to remember but obviously using his neurons was beyond his current capabilities, "No." So was sentence formation apparently.
"That's OK. I do need to ask you something and I really need to you help me out here OK?"
The man nodded but regretted the action when he could hear and feel the blood pounding in he ears and feel his brain sloshing from one side to the other with the minimal movement. He let a moan escape his lips.
"Just one more question and we will give you something for the pain. Can you tell me your name?"
Of course he could it was …. A frown crossed his handsome features. This is ridiculous of course he knows his own name … didn't he?
The nurse and doctor could see the look of panic cross their patient's face as he obviously was struggling to recall the most basic item of identity. The doctor laid his hand on the man's shoulder, "It's ok, try not to worry about it. Like I say you got quite a knock to the head and you have just woken up. I think we will leave it at that for now and give you something for the pain. I will come back in a few hours and hopefully you will be able to remember some more then, OK?"
"Ok," the man couldn't help but notice the look that had passed between the two people above him. He knew the fact he didn't know his name was not a good sign. They walked away and the doctor and nurse held a private whispered conversation before they both walked out of his room. The nurse returned a few seconds later and returned to his bedside. She started to prepare a needle that she then emptied into his IV line that was connected to his right arm near the elbow. "What's happened to me?" he asked her.
She sat in the chair beside his bed and patted his hand reassuringly, "Now don't go worrying about that just now, just know you are in hospital and we are taking really good care of you ok?" The man felt the pain in his head start to recede, as was the ability to keep his eyes open. "You feel free to close your eyes again, and we will chat later OK?"
"OK. What is your name?"
"It's Claire, sweety." She handed him his call button, "So when you need me you just hit this button and I will come running OK?"
"O…" and he drifted off to sleep.
When he awoke again he was alone in his room and his head felt lighter and less muddy than it had last time. However, when he went searching for his name, it once again was out of reach. How could he not know his own name? He knew other things about himself, he was six-foot-two, had brown hair, greeny-gray eyes, and he was … ok so he didn't know exactly how old he was but he knew he was well into his forties, but not that close to fifty.
Where was he? Again he reached into his damaged mind, but once again it came up blank. He also couldn't come up with any names of people he knew, no faces came to him. He didn't know if he was single or had a family… 'do I have kids?' He could feel himself start to panic as the realisation hit him that he had no memories prior to waking up in the hospital. He hit his call button, needing to tell someone what was happening. He needed someone to fix him. She started lifting himself off the bed, needing to find someone when Claire came running into the room.
"Hey now, don't you go getting out of bed …"
He interrupted her, "I don't remember anything?"
"Ok, well you just lay back down and we will talk about it ok."
"You don't understand… I don't remember anything! I don't know who I am, where I am, I don't remember anyone I might know, I don't know any names…" his voice was starting to rise as was his panic.
Claire sat on his bed side and pulled him in for a hug, giving him comfort and trying to calm him down, while he tried to come to terms with what was happening, "Shhh, shhh. It's OK. I know it is scary but we are going to do everything we can to help you out OK." She continued to hold him close and stroke his hair while he cried on her shoulder. She could feel him shaking in fear of the unknown, which to him was pretty much everything at the moment.
After several minutes he finally calmed down and the tears slowed. "That's better. Ok, so I am going to call Dr Petersen and get him down here and we will see what he has to say OK."
The man nodded and wiped away his tears. He felt embarrassed about crying in front of Claire, somehow he felt that was something he didn't do; cry in front of people. He didn't know how he knew that, but he did. Maybe that was a good sign?
Claire sat with him until Dr Petersen arrived and he sat in the chair beside his bed, while Claire remained perched on his bed holding onto his hand. Her heart was breaking for this man. She had seen people wake up and not remember things, she was in neurology after all, but to have complete amnesia was rare indeed.
One patient she had early in her career had such bad damage that she had lost, not only all her memories, but also everything she had ever learnt; how to talk, how to walk, how to use cutlery, every basic function you take for granted was completely lost to her. She had been like a new-born baby and it had taken her over a year before she was able to leave the hospital but she was never what Claire would consider fixed. She couldn't retain any new memories, and had no old memories. Last she heard she was still in a high care facility.
"So Claire says you can't remember anything, is that right?"
The man nodded, "I can't remember anything other than waking up here before. It's blank."
"OK, can you tell me what year it is?"
"Two thousand and … I want to say fifteen?"
"Yep that's right." He sighed in relief. That was something at least Dr Petersen started to take down some notes, "Can you tell me the month?"
"March?"
"Close, April. How about where you are?"
"Washington."
"Yep, can you tell me the city?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well Washington is the State, can you tell me what city you are in?"
He thought for a moment, he knew Washington, that had come to him instantly but what city? He finally shook his head, "No."
"Ok, how about the night you were bought in? Do you remember anything about that?"
The man thought, but came up as a blank. There was nothing there. He shook his head and the doctor continued taking notes.
"OK, what is the first thing you do remember?"
"Waking up before."
"Any specifics?"
"Yeah, you and Claire were there and my head was really sore. I had a drink of water and then you asked my name which I didn't know. You both left and Claire came back in and put something in my IV and I fell asleep.
"Excellent. Well retaining new memories doesn't seem to be an issue. That's a good sign."
"So how about yourself? Is there anything you can tell me about you?"
"OK, I'm male, six-foot-two, mid forties but not exactly sure what my age is … umm" he thought some more, trying to recall anything about himself, "greeny-grey eyes, brown hair." He stopped there unable to recall anything less basic. "That's about it I guess."
"Any scars?"
"One under my chin and on my leg … not sure about anything else."
"How did you get them?"
Claire could see him thinking about it, "Anything at all you might know about it?"
"The one on the chin I got when I was really young, six or seven maybe, but I have no idea what I did. Same with the leg one, I was late teens, early twenties and it is a sport injury but I don't know what sport, what happened, how it happened… nothing."
"Anything else, what you did for a living, what sort of house you live in?"
Once again, answers to these questions were lost. Tears once again welled up but he managed to hold them back before answering. "No, nothing else. Please can you tell me what happened to me?"
Dr Petersen sat back and crossed his legs and explained to the man how he came to be here, "You arrived here at three am on the morning of Saturday 28th March. You were air lifted by helicopter from Harrison Medical Centre in Silverdale. Could that be the town you are from?"
He shook his head, "Doesn't sound familiar."
"Anyway, you were found unconscious in the street by someone on their way home from dinner or something, so they called an ambulance and you were taken to Harrison. You had a seizure en-route and they managed to stabilize you and then arranged the airlift to here. When you arrived you had another seizure after which you stopped breathing, we bagged you until you once again started breathing on your own approximately a minute later. You were immediately placed on anti seizure medication, which you are still on today. We sent you off for a scan and we found a bleed on your brain on the left side of your frontal lobe just here," he indicated a space on his own head just approximately two inches above his ear and just inside his hairline.
The man lifted his own hand and felt the same spot the doctor pointed too but it was covered with dressings.
"We were given an emergency craniotomy where we removed a small portion of your skull, drained the blood and also removed a blood clot. We inserted a drain and replaced the portion of skill and restitched your wound and you were placed in an induced coma for ten days to try and allow the swelling in your brain to reduce and allow you to heal. The drain was removed and we reduced the sedation seven days ago and you woke up earlier today."
He sat silently on his bed for a moment, trying to take in all the information provided, trying to remember anything about that night. Finally he asked what he needed to know, "Will I get my memory back?"
Dr Petersen leaned forward and rested his hand on the mans leg, "At this stage, I can't give you a definitive answer to that. I will need to run some tests over the next couple of day, some scans, memory tests, that sort of thing and we will have a better idea once those have been completed. If you get any sort of memory flash, or things start to come back to you, please call a nurse to get me straight away, OK."
"Yep, got it."
The doctor stood and said, "So tomorrow we will get these tests underway and see if we can get some answers for you OK. Good night."
"Goodnight."
Claire was still sitting beside him. "You OK?" she asked.
"I'm not sure, it's a lot to take in. Good thing I have all the extra room now though."
She laughed. At least he still had a sense of humour. "Well I will let you rest up. Call me if you need anything John."
"John?"
"Oops, sorry that slipped out. I have been calling you John … as in John Doe. Standard procedure for unidentified persons."
"Yeah I know."
"How do you know?"
He thought for a minute. "No idea."
"Are you happy for me to keep calling you John?" She saw him wrinkle his nose. "So that's a no. Well, what would you like me to call you? Is there a name that comes to mind?"
He thought for a moment then said, "James."
"James. Do you think that might be your name?"
Again, a moment of thought, "No I don't think so, but it's a name that makes me feel … I don't know… happy? Safe? I don't know."
"Well, I think we can call you James if that is what you want."
"Yeah, I don't really like John."
"Ok, James it is then. Try and get some rest tonight OK. I have finished my shift and I think Lisa is on tonight but I will be back in the morning. Sleep well James."