Chapter 94: Great News

The sanity lies in just knowing that all that you've done has let you do today

As the clock neared 4:00 pm and their session came toward its end, Marcus, the psychologist working with Owen, continued their conversation, "And who will you talk to when you get back to Seattle?"

Owen shrugged, "My wife, of course. Probably the therapist I went to a few years ago."

"Friends? Others who've been overseas?" Marcus inquired.

"I don't have a lot of deep friendships, but I have several colleagues and surface level friends. There are a few close friends but not anyone I'd lean on to process the tour," Owen admitted.

Marcus lowered his reading glasses and bore his eyes into Owen's face. He was silent for about 30 seconds. "Owen, no matter how wonderful she is, your wife can't be your only source of support outside of therapy. Let's ponder together – who else in your life could be a confidante?"

Grimacing, Owen sighed and attempted to come up with options. He chuckled as he recognized that he'd just come up with all women, "My ex-wife helped me through PTSD. She's great because she's direct and on point. April was overseas with me, but I'm her mentor and superior. There's an ortho doc, Callie. We've leaned on one another now and then. She has a heart for helping soldiers – she and my brother-in-law pioneered some advanced prostheses."

"That list gives you a few options. That's good. You might want to run the idea of speaking with your ex-wife by your current wife, though," Marcus suggested with a grin. He continued, "I'd also suggest you contact the nearby bases and find out what services they offer. There is a large military presence in and around your area. Speaking with other soldiers would be of tremendous benefit."

"I suppose it could," Owen responded flatly without much commitment.

Marcus continued, "Owen, I'll have no problem signing your papers and allowing you to return home after our session tomorrow. You'll need to connect with a therapist in Seattle and resume therapy by the end of this week. I know you have someone already. I'd like to suggest you consider one of the therapists at the Navy base in Bremerton – they deal with situations similar to yours every day. The base will probably even arrange for them to come to you for the time being." Owen nodded, dwelling on the words 'return home.'

A time when answers just seem to appear

"Hey," Owen said gently as Amelia answered her phone.

"My favorite red-headed doctor and husband, what's up?" Amelia answered with gusto and playfulness.

Owen chuckled, "And just how many red-headed doctors and husbands are in your life? I need to know my competition."

"Just one. I sent all the others away. None of them could compare to you," Amelia teased.

Owen laughed, "That's taking it just a little over the top, don't you think?"

"I'd like to climb on top and… hey, Oliver, what's up, honey?" Amelia began to flirt before Oliver came in the room holding a broken toy.

"Who's on the phone?" Oliver inquired quizzically.

"Daddy, you wanna say hi?" Amelia wondered aloud as she handed him the phone.

Oliver beamed as he dropped the broken toy on the floor, "Hey, Dad!"

"Oliver, buddy, how are you?" Owen asked with enthusiasm.

"I'm ok. Bronwyn just broke one of my racecar models. I was gonna ask Mom to help me fix it, but I don't know if she knows how," Oliver explained.

"I think she could figure it out. She is a brain surgeon after all," Owen offered. "But if you set it aside, I could help you with it tomorrow."

"Wait! What?! You're coming home?!" Oliver yelled as he widened his eyes. Without moving his mouth from the phone, Oliver looked at Amelia and announced, "Mom! Dad's coming home tomorrow!"

Owen moved his phone away from his ear, nearly deafened by Oliver's proclamation.

Amelia suggested, "Go tell your brother and sisters!" Oliver ran out of the room at full speed. "Really?" Amelia asked Owen with glee.

"Yep. Psych just promised to let me loose after tomorrow's session. Doc told me this morning she'd approve discharge tomorrow and my OT/PT team assured me of the same," Owen announced as if he was a kid telling his parents he'd received a report card with all A's.

"No details yet," Amelia recognized with disappointment.

"It's the Army. No details until all the paperwork is officially in place, but they're working on it behind the scenes. Did you move our bedroom downstairs?" Owen inquired.

"Kind of," Amelia explained. "We've taken over the playroom. It's the closest to the downstairs bathroom. I figured the kids could survive playing in the living room or in their own rooms for a while. There's a bed in there, our lamps, some side tables. We'll figure out what you need in there when you get here."

"Did you talk to Ann, my OT? She mentioned she was going to try to connect with you," Owen checked.

Amelia responded, "We had a great chat. She was a wonderful help."

"Will my wheelchair navigate around the playroom? Where did you put the bed?" Owen asked.

Amelia bit her lip. She had been under the impression that the wheelchair would be gone by the time he came home. "I have a few more details to work out in there, but it'll work. There's a ramp at the front step and at the steps from the house to the garage."

"Thanks," Owen stated lovingly. "I'm sorry for all this inconvenience. You don't deserve all this."

"Enough. It's what wives do, ok? I'm happy to arrange all this if it means having you home," Amelia disclosed with sincerity.

"I have a PT session, Mia. I'll call you as soon as I have details, ok?" Owen promised. Amelia hung up the phone, wondering how she was going to make the downstairs wheelchair friendly. She called up Callie, guessing she'd have some ideas and suggestions.

Finally, you stand in a strange place,

where you've learned and you've grown, and your moment is here.

At PT, Owen was able to walk steadily but at a snail's pace with the walker. Owen's determination and Josh's pushing made the steps appear. Josh and Ann celebrated heartily, which embarrassed Owen. He hadn't anyone cheer his ability to walk in almost 40 years. In just two short days and six sessions, the progress had been amazing. After Wednesday's sessions, he'd be ready to get by at home.