The Ten Stages of Awakening
Mental
Marshall was kicking himself.
How had he not seen it? How had he not recognised aphasia? What good was all that reading if he couldn't even diagnose that? All the signs had been there, the lack of comprehension, the trouble speaking, the inability to tell her family to go to hell. Even when the doctors had told him, he still hadn't recognised the word.
At the time all he had really heard were the words, 'brain damage' being whispered over an over in his mind until they ran together to form a hissing noise that had drowned out everything else.
Now, in the quiet of the empty corridor, his mind had finally calmed enough for the self recrimination to begin.
xxx
"Can you point to the green circle?" the woman asked.
Mary reached out a hand and let it hover over the cards on the table as she deciphered the sounds the woman had made. Finally, she let it rest on the middle one.
xxx
Raph paced up and down the hallway outside Mary's room.
He had been kicked out of the room again when the speech-language pathologist had arrived. He'd spent the afternoon struggling to understand what had happened to his beautiful fiancée. The doctors had explained it to him but English wasn't his natural language and he'd not known a lot of the technical terms they had used. He'd tried asking Brandi and Jinx to explain some of the things he had missed but neither of them had been able to help.
The pacing was a sign of his frustration. He was frustrated with himself for not being able to understand. He was frustrated with the doctors for not taking the time to explain. He was frustrated at the lack of information.
The one thing he had understood from the conversation with the neurologist was that they didn't know what was wrong with Mary. They might have tried to disguise it in long words and medical jargon but it seemed that the answer to every question was 'wait and see'.
And all the while, there was Marshall, standing silently in the doorway with that smug half smile on his face as if he knew everything and was enjoying Raph making a fool of himself by displaying his ignorance every time he asked a question.
xxx
"And put these cards in order so they tell a story," the woman told her.
Mary looked at the pictures of a young boy putting on a pair of ice skates, buying a ticket at a counter, another of him out on the ice and one of him walking with his friends. She spent a moment wondering if that was him arriving or departing the ice rink then started arranging them.
xxx
Stan was searching the hospital for Marshall.
He'd got a garbled message from him that afternoon. Something about sacks and a hat and possible brain damage. He'd decided it would be easier to find Marshall than try and decode his message.
He finally located him in an empty corridor.
Marshall was sat at the end, on an unused gurney, head resting on the wall behind him with his eyes closed. Next to him sat what was obviously an overnight bag, its contents strewn over the bed indicating Marshall had been using this spot as his hiding place for a while.
"Marshall?" Stan called, not wanting to startle him.
Marshall opened his eyes and sprung off the bed.
"Chief!" he greeted.
"I got your message, but I didn't understand it," Stan told him.
"The doctors think Mary has aphasia as a result of the oxygen depletion," Marshall said, getting straight down to business. "They don't know much more at the moment but she's in with a specialist and there's going to be a meeting later when they know the results of the tests. I need you to be there. I'll give you a list of questions to take with you..."
"Where do you need me to be?" Stan asked, trying to process all the information Marshall was throwing at him.
"In the meeting," Marshall replied as if he was speaking to a child, not seeing why Stan would ask such an obvious question.
It suddenly dawned on Stan that Marshall wasn't intending to be present at the meeting. He rubbed his head as a headache began to form. He couldn't understand Marshall's reluctance to be near Mary. Previously he'd noticed that his inspector could barely bring himself to enter her room, choosing to loiter in the doorway throughout one visit. And now he wasn't planning on going to an important meeting on Mary's prognosis. It wasn't like him.
"Why won't you be there?" he asked, hoping to nip whatever problem Marshall had with visiting Mary, in the bud.
Marshall grimaced, "I don't think I'll be welcome."
Stan waited with a look at Marshall that had convinced many a witness to tell Stan whatever he wanted to know.
"Raph will be there," Marshall said when he realised he wouldn't get away without some form of explanation.
Stan nodded, choosing not to delve any deeper into that particular can of worms.
xxx
"Repeat after me, 'Mary'," she was told.
"Mmmmm," she said.
xxx
Catherine Young closed the door behind her.
She was instantly accosted by a tall, Hispanic looking man.
"Is she alright?" he asked.
"Please, sir, could you give me a minute?" she replied.
He took a step back and allowed her to consult the chart in her hand. She made a few notes on her newest patient's condition then flipped back to the front sheet to find information on her family.
She looked up. "Are you Raphael?" she asked the man hovering nervously at her elbow.
He nodded.
"Mary is fine. Well, as well as can be expected at the moment," she quickly amended. "I see I'm meeting with you and the rest of her family later. I'll explain everything in more detail then. Until then, if you want to sit with her you can. Just remember to keep your sentences short and don't be surprised if she becomes irritable or frustrated if she doesn't understand."
"She's always irritable," Raphael muttered, but was quickly silenced by a hand on his arm from the blonde woman who had just approached.
Catherine consulted her chart again and decided that was probably Mary's sister, Brandi.
"Go on in," she encouraged wanting to delay any question and answer session until the meeting later on.
xxx
Mary looked up as the door opened.
She hoped it wasn't the woman returning. She'd asked her lots of question, set her tasks and made her speak. Now, she was exhausted and dispirited. She didn't remember things being this hard. Things that should have come naturally to her now required her complete attention and she didn't like it or understand why.
Even simple things like saying her name had sapped her energy as she focused on copying the shapes the woman's mouth had made in the hope of producing the same sound.
She just wanted to rest now, not answer more questions.
She was relieved to see the clean man enter her room and smiled brightly at him. Brandi followed him and returned her smile.
They took seats next to the bed.
"Mary?" the clean man began slowly.
Mary was too tired to try to respond even though she recognised her name.
"I love you, Mary," the clean one told her.
"Nnnnaaa?" she forced herself to say, her curiosity outweighing her tiredness.
The clean man exchanged a puzzled look with Brandi.
"Nnnaa?" Mary tried again, pointing at the clean man.
The clean man still didn't understand.
"Mmmm...Reee," she said with her hand on her chest. "Nnaam?" she asked again, slapping the bed in frustration.
She looked at the pair of them, hoping for an answer but could see tears welling in Brandi's eyes. Obviously her question was upsetting her. She hadn't meant to make Brandi cry. She gave up trying to find out the clean man's name and sighed loudly. She lay back in the bed, wincing at the pain in her side. She closed her eyes until the pain dissipated and when she opened them the clean man and Brandi were gone.