I don't know how to put it into words. It was just too much. On one hand, I
was a basket case...confused by so much trauma...Mikey's horrific death, the
attacks on ACU and Narcotics, a car through the building at Mikey's wake,
Rose's injuries followed by her sudden death, being shot at, and the fear
of losing my partner. I didn't know how much more I could handle. I wasn't
sure I was handling what I'd already been dealt.
Looking back, I was grateful for those who were with us during that time. Nurse Proctor had arranged for an almost private waiting area for us. Faces came and went although several had hung around. One familiar face was Ty's mom, Maggie. She wore several hats that afternoon as it turned into evening. Of course she was a mother first.
Although Ty's injuries weren't serious, he had been injured by flying glass. A splinter from a plastic chair had imbedded his lower left leg. His injuries had been stitched and bandaged. Even though doctors would have preferred he get some rest, he insisted on waiting for word on Bosco. Sully had been injured as well. In an attempt to not get shot, he'd slipped on broken glass, fracturing two ribs as well as his left wrist. He insisted on being with us as much as possible. On occasion he'd been forced to go back to ER and lie down but he was fighting it the whole time. He told the doctors and nurses repeatedly that he didn't want to lie down; he wanted to wait with us. They promised to update him if he'd just get some rest. It was almost humorous watching him refuse. I say it was almost humorous 'cause I know if Bosco could have seen him, he would have given him a hard time. And I know Sully would have given Bosco a hard time, insisting that he didn't care about Bosco's injuries. He wanted to be there to support me. The thing is, he wasn't fooling any of us.
We finally received news although the answers we were waiting for were actually just more questions. The bottom line was that we wouldn't know the extent of his injuries for a few days...the full extent might take even longer. Despite the advances in medicine, there were still a lot of mysteries when it came to the human brain.
It was morning before I was allowed in to see Bosco. The doctors had explained that he was still out of it. They wanted to keep him sedated so his body could rest. He had a lot of healing to do and he needed all the rest he could get.
I wondered into this room under the watchful eye of Mary. I hadn't noticed that she'd left but since she was dressed differently, I figured she must have at some point. She stayed by my side as I stood several steps away from his bed. I felt Mary's gentle prodding, pushing me towards him.
To look at him, I would have sworn this wasn't my partner. His head was bandaged. I couldn't see it except in my mind but his finally grown out dark hair was gone. I'd never said a word to him about his hair but during his time with Cruz...that buzz cut just wasn't him. Now as I stood there, creating a new image, I knew we were back to that buzz look, or even worse. He was hooked up to numerous tubes and wires; I didn't ask what they were doing for him. Knowing that they were helping to keep him alive was enough for me. Behind the tubes I assumed were helping him breath easier while his lung healed I noticed his face...pale and slightly bloated. Again I didn't ask. I'd seen on TV how a person's face can be that way following surgery. Truth or just TV, I didn't need to know anymore. For now, he was alive. I took a deep breath, squelching any reaction to what I was seeing. Mary, though, had been right beside me and she wasn't new to this type of thing. She found me a chair which I all but fell into. I was exhausted since I'd slept little in the past twenty-four hours. My visit was short as would be numerous visits over the next day or so.
The days that followed were a series of first.
The first time Bosco opened his eyes I was with him...holding his hand. I guess it wasn't so strange holding his hand. I wasn't married any longer, not in the sense of the word anyway. Legally yeah but beyond that I knew my marriage was over the morning of Mikey's wake. Sitting there with Bosco, I talked to him, told him about Sully and Ty and about the others from the 55 who'd been injured. I didn't tell him about Cruz though. I wasn't up to talking about death with him. My superstitious side told me that was a bad idea, that if I mentioned death while with Bosco, he might die too. Besides if I was going to talk to him about death, I figured it should be about Rose and I couldn't bring myself to mention her name just yet. If, in fact, he could hear me, I didn't want him to find out about her death that way.
It was an afternoon visit. I was talking with him as usual and he started to move his head. So I continued talking to him, trying to get him to follow my voice; to open his eyes. He opened them for just an instant, and then closed them again. He fought a battle to open them and keep them open. Eventually his persistence paid off and I watched as his eyes focused on me.
The smile on my face at that moment could have lit up a room. I was so happy to see those blue eyes looking back at me. I told him all the usual stuff you say to someone whose just woke up from an ordeal such as this. The 'you're awake' and 'it's about time you woke up' stuff. It sounds silly now that we say that stuff. I mean isn't it obvious?
Mary came in while I was there. She summoned the doctors who came in and proceeded to run a bunch of tests while I was forced back into the waiting area. It was half a day later that I got to see him again. I was expecting two things from him. Turns out my expectations didn't come to pass.
I expected him to ask about Rose. He didn't. I also expected him to make some sort of comment about the fact that I was okay. He didn't.
What he did do was confirm to me what the doctors had told me. I found my answer in his eyes...the lack of it in his eyes. I was actually grateful when Mary came in and told me she was sorry but I'd have to cut my visit short. The doctors needed to run a series of tests. I didn't know how much longer I could have stayed with him. I offered him the 'I'll see you later' reply with a quick touch to his shoulder before leaving the room.
Back in the hallway I lost it, sobbing on Mary's shoulder. I guess to hear her suddenly say 'he's okay' surprised me until I discovered Lieu was there with Ty. Sully was on crutches but he was there too. To see me crying as I was they must've thought Bosco had died. That explained Mary's sudden comment.
"Faith?" Lieu replied, touching my arm. "What happened?"
"He doesn't know me," I sobbed, once again losing my composure. "He doesn't know who I am."
Lieu's expression changed from worry to shock.
"Did he say something to make you think this?"
I'd forgotten that I'd been the only there when the doctors told me about their concerns with his memory. I hadn't believed them. This was Bosco...my partner...my best friend. Of course he'd remember me.
"He didn't have to Lieu," I tried to explain as I pulled it together. "I just know."
I turned to Sully, knowing somehow that he'd understand.
"You know how it is when something happens...like after the shootings here...your first thought is for your partner. You want to know if your partner is okay. Then when you get to see him, you have that sense of relief. Despite your own injury everything sort of changes when you know your partner is okay. I didn't see that...I know Bosco. He looked at me and it was as if he as looking at a stranger...he should be happy...relieved...that sense of relief...it wasn't there...he doesn't know me."
Lieu and the others turned their attention to Mary who led us to a waiting area. I knew Lieu and the others were at a loss but I couldn't bring myself to discuss it. One of the doctors appeared and I sat there, hearing the disturbing news all over again.
Bosco had been unable to tell them basic information...his name, the year...that sort of stuff. He didn't know what had happened to him. On a positive note, he was responding to other tests. He seemed to understand his injuries as they'd explained them to him. He was also able to follow basic commands regarding motor skills; moving an arm...his toes. He was also able to speak although it was difficult for him as his throat was still sore from the surgery and having had tubes in his throat. On a negative note, they'd tried to weave familiar things into a conversation. He hadn't responded when they mentioned colors; plum, navy, rose. Hearing his mother's name hadn't initiated a response.
Will he ever remember or how long would this last were two questions the doctors couldn't answer. They were awaiting the results of some tests with more to run before they could make that determination. I'd been around the hospital so long I was sounding like the doctors.
The first time I left the hospital was four days after Bosco was shot. I joined an over-flowing room of friends and co-workers for the services for Mikey and Rose. I still had no idea how to contact Bosco's father. He hadn't been to the hospital to see Rose before her death and he hadn't been there to see Bosco. I stopped off at Mercy briefly on my way to the church on the off chance that Bosco had regained his memory. In my heart, I felt that he would want his brother and his mother laid to rest. The two of them deserved that much. The funerals were sad yet touching. The minister knew Rose well. He spoke of her as a long-time member of the church and as a friend. Several neighbors came forward and told stories of Mikey's childhood and of the relationship between mother and sons. Bosco was not forgotten. He was in the hearts and thoughts of everyone there.
It was a warm bright and sunny afternoon when the funeral procession made its way to the cemetery. Church bells rang in the background...there were more floral arrangements than I could count.
Missing from the services were Anthony and his side of the family. In a way it was a strange, odd feeling although in another sense, it was calming...peaceful. For a short time, I was almost glad Bosco couldn't remember us. He'd been spared the tremendous grief the loss of Mikey and his mother would bring. On the other hand, I think his current sense of loss was far worse than anything he would experienced the day of the funerals for his mother and brother. Looking back, I didn't think it was possible that Bosco could ever feel more lost than the day he lost his beloved mother. I was wrong. While we were saying goodbye, Bosco was back at Mercy, struggling to come to terms with a life he knew nothing about.
Over the next week or so, I learned more about brain injuries than I ever wanted to know. The complexity of the human brain is not easy to understand. But, further tests showed that the area of the brain that dealt with memory loss such as Bosco's hadn't been destroyed by either the bullet or the surgery that followed. It had been damaged to some extent but there was the possibility that he'd regain some of what was lost. Whether that was tomorrow, next week, next month, or a year from now was anyone's guess.
Looking back, I was grateful for those who were with us during that time. Nurse Proctor had arranged for an almost private waiting area for us. Faces came and went although several had hung around. One familiar face was Ty's mom, Maggie. She wore several hats that afternoon as it turned into evening. Of course she was a mother first.
Although Ty's injuries weren't serious, he had been injured by flying glass. A splinter from a plastic chair had imbedded his lower left leg. His injuries had been stitched and bandaged. Even though doctors would have preferred he get some rest, he insisted on waiting for word on Bosco. Sully had been injured as well. In an attempt to not get shot, he'd slipped on broken glass, fracturing two ribs as well as his left wrist. He insisted on being with us as much as possible. On occasion he'd been forced to go back to ER and lie down but he was fighting it the whole time. He told the doctors and nurses repeatedly that he didn't want to lie down; he wanted to wait with us. They promised to update him if he'd just get some rest. It was almost humorous watching him refuse. I say it was almost humorous 'cause I know if Bosco could have seen him, he would have given him a hard time. And I know Sully would have given Bosco a hard time, insisting that he didn't care about Bosco's injuries. He wanted to be there to support me. The thing is, he wasn't fooling any of us.
We finally received news although the answers we were waiting for were actually just more questions. The bottom line was that we wouldn't know the extent of his injuries for a few days...the full extent might take even longer. Despite the advances in medicine, there were still a lot of mysteries when it came to the human brain.
It was morning before I was allowed in to see Bosco. The doctors had explained that he was still out of it. They wanted to keep him sedated so his body could rest. He had a lot of healing to do and he needed all the rest he could get.
I wondered into this room under the watchful eye of Mary. I hadn't noticed that she'd left but since she was dressed differently, I figured she must have at some point. She stayed by my side as I stood several steps away from his bed. I felt Mary's gentle prodding, pushing me towards him.
To look at him, I would have sworn this wasn't my partner. His head was bandaged. I couldn't see it except in my mind but his finally grown out dark hair was gone. I'd never said a word to him about his hair but during his time with Cruz...that buzz cut just wasn't him. Now as I stood there, creating a new image, I knew we were back to that buzz look, or even worse. He was hooked up to numerous tubes and wires; I didn't ask what they were doing for him. Knowing that they were helping to keep him alive was enough for me. Behind the tubes I assumed were helping him breath easier while his lung healed I noticed his face...pale and slightly bloated. Again I didn't ask. I'd seen on TV how a person's face can be that way following surgery. Truth or just TV, I didn't need to know anymore. For now, he was alive. I took a deep breath, squelching any reaction to what I was seeing. Mary, though, had been right beside me and she wasn't new to this type of thing. She found me a chair which I all but fell into. I was exhausted since I'd slept little in the past twenty-four hours. My visit was short as would be numerous visits over the next day or so.
The days that followed were a series of first.
The first time Bosco opened his eyes I was with him...holding his hand. I guess it wasn't so strange holding his hand. I wasn't married any longer, not in the sense of the word anyway. Legally yeah but beyond that I knew my marriage was over the morning of Mikey's wake. Sitting there with Bosco, I talked to him, told him about Sully and Ty and about the others from the 55 who'd been injured. I didn't tell him about Cruz though. I wasn't up to talking about death with him. My superstitious side told me that was a bad idea, that if I mentioned death while with Bosco, he might die too. Besides if I was going to talk to him about death, I figured it should be about Rose and I couldn't bring myself to mention her name just yet. If, in fact, he could hear me, I didn't want him to find out about her death that way.
It was an afternoon visit. I was talking with him as usual and he started to move his head. So I continued talking to him, trying to get him to follow my voice; to open his eyes. He opened them for just an instant, and then closed them again. He fought a battle to open them and keep them open. Eventually his persistence paid off and I watched as his eyes focused on me.
The smile on my face at that moment could have lit up a room. I was so happy to see those blue eyes looking back at me. I told him all the usual stuff you say to someone whose just woke up from an ordeal such as this. The 'you're awake' and 'it's about time you woke up' stuff. It sounds silly now that we say that stuff. I mean isn't it obvious?
Mary came in while I was there. She summoned the doctors who came in and proceeded to run a bunch of tests while I was forced back into the waiting area. It was half a day later that I got to see him again. I was expecting two things from him. Turns out my expectations didn't come to pass.
I expected him to ask about Rose. He didn't. I also expected him to make some sort of comment about the fact that I was okay. He didn't.
What he did do was confirm to me what the doctors had told me. I found my answer in his eyes...the lack of it in his eyes. I was actually grateful when Mary came in and told me she was sorry but I'd have to cut my visit short. The doctors needed to run a series of tests. I didn't know how much longer I could have stayed with him. I offered him the 'I'll see you later' reply with a quick touch to his shoulder before leaving the room.
Back in the hallway I lost it, sobbing on Mary's shoulder. I guess to hear her suddenly say 'he's okay' surprised me until I discovered Lieu was there with Ty. Sully was on crutches but he was there too. To see me crying as I was they must've thought Bosco had died. That explained Mary's sudden comment.
"Faith?" Lieu replied, touching my arm. "What happened?"
"He doesn't know me," I sobbed, once again losing my composure. "He doesn't know who I am."
Lieu's expression changed from worry to shock.
"Did he say something to make you think this?"
I'd forgotten that I'd been the only there when the doctors told me about their concerns with his memory. I hadn't believed them. This was Bosco...my partner...my best friend. Of course he'd remember me.
"He didn't have to Lieu," I tried to explain as I pulled it together. "I just know."
I turned to Sully, knowing somehow that he'd understand.
"You know how it is when something happens...like after the shootings here...your first thought is for your partner. You want to know if your partner is okay. Then when you get to see him, you have that sense of relief. Despite your own injury everything sort of changes when you know your partner is okay. I didn't see that...I know Bosco. He looked at me and it was as if he as looking at a stranger...he should be happy...relieved...that sense of relief...it wasn't there...he doesn't know me."
Lieu and the others turned their attention to Mary who led us to a waiting area. I knew Lieu and the others were at a loss but I couldn't bring myself to discuss it. One of the doctors appeared and I sat there, hearing the disturbing news all over again.
Bosco had been unable to tell them basic information...his name, the year...that sort of stuff. He didn't know what had happened to him. On a positive note, he was responding to other tests. He seemed to understand his injuries as they'd explained them to him. He was also able to follow basic commands regarding motor skills; moving an arm...his toes. He was also able to speak although it was difficult for him as his throat was still sore from the surgery and having had tubes in his throat. On a negative note, they'd tried to weave familiar things into a conversation. He hadn't responded when they mentioned colors; plum, navy, rose. Hearing his mother's name hadn't initiated a response.
Will he ever remember or how long would this last were two questions the doctors couldn't answer. They were awaiting the results of some tests with more to run before they could make that determination. I'd been around the hospital so long I was sounding like the doctors.
The first time I left the hospital was four days after Bosco was shot. I joined an over-flowing room of friends and co-workers for the services for Mikey and Rose. I still had no idea how to contact Bosco's father. He hadn't been to the hospital to see Rose before her death and he hadn't been there to see Bosco. I stopped off at Mercy briefly on my way to the church on the off chance that Bosco had regained his memory. In my heart, I felt that he would want his brother and his mother laid to rest. The two of them deserved that much. The funerals were sad yet touching. The minister knew Rose well. He spoke of her as a long-time member of the church and as a friend. Several neighbors came forward and told stories of Mikey's childhood and of the relationship between mother and sons. Bosco was not forgotten. He was in the hearts and thoughts of everyone there.
It was a warm bright and sunny afternoon when the funeral procession made its way to the cemetery. Church bells rang in the background...there were more floral arrangements than I could count.
Missing from the services were Anthony and his side of the family. In a way it was a strange, odd feeling although in another sense, it was calming...peaceful. For a short time, I was almost glad Bosco couldn't remember us. He'd been spared the tremendous grief the loss of Mikey and his mother would bring. On the other hand, I think his current sense of loss was far worse than anything he would experienced the day of the funerals for his mother and brother. Looking back, I didn't think it was possible that Bosco could ever feel more lost than the day he lost his beloved mother. I was wrong. While we were saying goodbye, Bosco was back at Mercy, struggling to come to terms with a life he knew nothing about.
Over the next week or so, I learned more about brain injuries than I ever wanted to know. The complexity of the human brain is not easy to understand. But, further tests showed that the area of the brain that dealt with memory loss such as Bosco's hadn't been destroyed by either the bullet or the surgery that followed. It had been damaged to some extent but there was the possibility that he'd regain some of what was lost. Whether that was tomorrow, next week, next month, or a year from now was anyone's guess.