For Jamie, his time in the induced coma was like one bizarre unending dream where he was floating underwater and strange figures were moving in the background behind white walls. He had no concept of time or what was going on around him. He had visions of his mother and Joe visiting him but their images were fleeting and he could not make out what they were saying. He swore though that he heard Eddie's voice telling him to stay; he had something to do, but he couldn't recall what it was. Slowly as he gained awareness, pain started to filter back into his thoughts. His chest felt like it was caught in a vise grip, every breath seemingly beyond his control, grating fire through his lungs. Try as he might he could not remember what had happened and he could not move as his entire body felt like it was made of lead. He wished he could slip back into that white world of blissful peace and away from the pain. It was Saturday, more than a full week on from his accident and Dr. Holden had started to wean him off of the heavy sedation to see if he could respond by breathing on his own. It was a gradual process that could take several days depending on how he reacted. Jamie's lungs had continued clearing and he was able to oxygenate with only the ventilator so with much relief to the family, the ECMO machine had been removed the day before.
Now that his condition had started to improve, the visitation guidelines were relaxed and the Reagans and Eddie were allowed to spend more time in the room. It was Monday morning before Dr. Holden thought they were at the point where Jamie could be allowed to regain full consciousness and she notified the family. She had adjusted the ventilator so it only forced air into his lungs if he wasn't breathing well on his own. Frank asked Eddie to come in to sit with him to help keep Jamie calm as he woke up. The doctor had apologized as she had the nurses put restraints on Jamie's arms. She explained that his first urge would be to remove the tube from his throat as it was so uncomfortable and that could cause permanent damage and endanger his swollen airway. Frank nodded but it hurt deeply to see his son tied down like that. Still it was the day they had all been praying for, the day Jamie would come back to them.
It was a few hours before it happened. Eddie felt Jamie's fingers twitch as she sat next to the bed holding his hand and resting her head against him. She sat up and stroked his face as she had been doing for more than a week. His eyes were moving underneath closed lids. "Jamie, can you hear me?" she asked as Frank woke up from where he had been dozing in an uncomfortable chair and moved over to the bed, enveloping Jamie's other hand in his grasp.
"Son, we're right here. Can you try to open your eyes?" he implored, hoping his voice would help guide Jamie back.
Jamie heard the deep rumbling of his father's voice, but he could not make out the words and it sounded as if it were coming from far away. Confusing images of Eddie walking down an alley holding a bright yellow umbrella and Danny catching a great big whale on a fishing line were flashing through his mind. Every so often something seemed wrong and air would rush into his lungs again making them feel like they would splinter into a thousand pieces. He grimaced when he frantically tried to control his breaths as he fought the vent. Soothing touches were rubbing his face and his hands and another softer voice was there, just beyond his reach. After a few minutes his breathing evened out and he felt closer to the surface. With great effort he managed to pry his eyes open. He scanned the blurry images until they cleared slightly and locked on the familiar face of his father.
"Hey," his dad's smiling face spoke, tears spilling from his eyes. Why was he crying? Jesus, Frank Reagan didn't cry unless something really bad had happened. Had something bad happened? Jamie could not remember. "There you are now, you're going to be all right. Okay? Just try to relax son."
Jamie blinked hard to clear the haze, his eyes shifted right and he recognized Eddie with her blond hair loose and cascading down to her shoulders. She was so beautiful but there were tears in her eyes too. "Damn," he thought. "What the hell is going on?" Why was Eddie here with his father? He realized with a start that he was in a hospital room. Had he been shot? Maybe that explained the fire in his chest he thought, panicking. He'd had his vest on right? He always wore his vest on the job. He closed his eyes. Memories of holding Eddie's hand and her kissing him flashed through his brain. Something about his grandfather and a dining room chair. Surely this was some kind of dream. Parts of it were a nightmare.
Suddenly he became aware of the tube in his throat and he reached for it instinctively but he couldn't bring his arm up. He felt something holding him down, his father telling him it was okay. He was struggling against the ventilator again as it clicked back on. Why were they doing this to him? Pain from that damn air forced down his throat racked his chest and he couldn't get away from it. Was he paralyzed? What exactly had happened? His mother and Joe were speaking to him through the white wall, telling him it was time to leave, he needed to go back for something. Reality and delirium were intertwined.
Slowly after some time Jamie's mind began to clear again and he heard his father and Eddie talking to him, calmly explaining that he had been sick with pneumonia but he was getting better now and as soon as the doctor felt he was strong enough she would take him off the ventilator. Pneumonia? He did not remember being sick. He tried to be careful but went off rhythm again and the air was forced down as he struggled to catch up. Tears of frustration rolled down his face; he felt so helpless with no way to communicate with his hands tied down and that damn tube in his throat. The pain was consuming his thoughts, and he closed his eyes tight to shut them out. He wanted to return to the white place but the wall was crumbling and disappearing leaving nothing behind.
"Jamie, please I know it's hard right now but you have to listen to me," his dad's voice was breaking through again. "Just breathe son; relax and breathe for me – just easy, in and out. Don't fight it. I know you have questions, okay? I'll try to answer some," he paused when he did not receive any acknowledgment and then added more forcibly in his deep authoritative tone, "Jamison Reagan, open your eyes now and blink once if you understand me and we'll go from there."
Jamie's sad hazel eyes slowly opened and turned obediently towards Frank; he could never ignore that voice. Was his father serious, though? He didn't have questions; he just wanted to leave, to run, to be anywhere but here... just away from the pain and this place where he was trapped. If he could only utter the words that were in his mind right now he would do his Irish heritage proud. Instead, he blinked because it was the only thing left for him.
"Good. Well done son. I'm sure you want to know when you can be taken off the ventilator." Jamie blinked, and his father continued, "Dr. Holden said that as long as you were able to breathe mainly on your own for the rest of the day today she can remove it tomorrow."
Jamie moved his right wrist slightly and rattled the restraint against the bed railing. Frank's strategy of distracting his son seemed to be working.
"Those were put there to keep you from harming yourself by trying to pull out the breathing tube when you were waking up," his father explained. "I know you hate that. As soon as we are done here I will find the doctor and see about getting them removed. But you have to promise to leave the tube in until she says you are ready to have it out, okay?" Jamie hesitated, and then tiredly blinked, rolling his eyes. This was overwhelming.
"You're doing great, Jamie," Eddie's voice floated in. His eyes tracked right and he looked at her. She leaned in and kissed him. Confusion clouded his mind. He had assumed what he was remembering about Eddie were broken parts of dreams, like the thousand other ones he'd had about her since the day they'd met, but she was actually here and had just kissed him in front of his father, right? Had he really told her that he loved her? It was too much. Jamie's tired brain ushered him towards the first non-drug induced sleep he'd had in more than a week. His eyes closed but he was breathing evenly as his body relaxed.
"I think he's asleep," Eddie whispered. "That was really hard on him, I'm not sure he understands what's going on," she added sadly. "I don't know what he remembers."
"Dr. Holden said it would be a process while the drugs are clearing his system," Frank agreed. "At least he was somewhat lucid there for a little while," he sighed and sat back in the chair, rubbing his temples. Jamie was so frail and had lost so much weight since becoming ill; it was painful to look at him. Danny wasn't the only one suffering from sleepless nights. Frank had spent most of the last week wandering aimlessly through the house when he wasn't at his son's side. He preferred that to the images that haunted his dreams. He wondered how long it would take before his youngest really recovered.
They sat with him the rest of the day until early evening but Jamie remained sleeping for the most part with only a few very brief periods of wakefulness. Dr. Holden was encouraged though as he had done well with his breathing. She gave him some medication to keep him sedated for the rest of the night and told them to return the next morning and she would remove the ventilator.