Joyous as the night had been, the morning brought with it the bleakness of reality, as the better part of three hours was spent in extensive tests to ascertain just how much damage had been done.
Holmes was nearly as agitated as the patient when they were finally finished and the nurse administered a calming draught to relax Watson enough to let him sleep.
"You need to know the facts, so that you may deal with them properly in future," the physician said pointedly after he had nearly exploded from frustration.
Duly chastened, he nodded.
"Speech can be re-taught but it will be like teaching an infant to do so," he sighed. "During that time, you must rein in your impatience. You have no idea how frustrating it is to be trapped without the power of speech."
"I understand," he whispered.
"His mind appears to be fully sound; in essence, the mind of an adult, but the physical functionality of a child."
"You mean…"
"I mean he will have to re-learn to do nearly everything," the physician said gently. "He has the capability to move – not like a spinal injury, with neural damage – his mind just cannot remember how."
He was afraid to ask for further particulars, but the physician continued ruthlessly though his tone was gentle as the autumn breeze.
