Amnesia.

That was the doctor's explanation. "The memory has gone into overload," he said. "The swelling of the brain, or edema, has not gone down yet. Until that happens, amnesia is quite common. In normal circumstances, the edema does not allow for the uninjured brain cells to take over the work of the injured brain cells. In Jordan's case, the head received a blow, but due to the air bag, the injury wasn't too severe because the scans and MRIs indicate that the brain activity is normal. Give her edema a little time to go down and her memory should return. Until then, just answer her questions as best you can. And don't be surprised if she asks you the same question three times in five minutes. A brain with edema also has a difficult time laying down a new memory."

Woody and Garret absorbed this information as the doctor tried to further explain Jordan's situation.

"But her memory will return, won't it?" asked Woody.

"It should. In normal cases, where the head injury is much more severe than Jordan's, the memory is back to normal within a year. She should be up and back 100 percent well before then."

"Do we know what part of her memory this affected, or will it affect all of her memory?" asked Garret.

"I can't answer that question," said the doctor. "Jordan will let you know that a little at the time."

Quietly, Woody went back to Jordan's room. "Hey, how are you feeling?"

"I'm fine. My head feels a little better. The nurse gave me something….what did you say your name was again?"

"Woody."

"And my name is?"

"Jordan. Jordan Marie Cavanaugh."

"Jordan," she repeated to herself. "Jordan, Jordan," as if she was trying with all her might to commit this one tiny fact to memory.

Woody pulled up a chair. "It's okay if you don't remember. The doctor said that as the swelling in your brain goes down, you'll remember more and more. You'll be back to your old self in no time."

"Where am I at?"

"Right now you're at Massachusetts University Hospital."

"Do I live here?"

"Yes – you've lived here all your life."

"How did I get here?"

"You were in a bad car accident. A drunk driver hit you when you were coming home from work."

"Work….where do I work? What do I do?"

"You're a medical examiner for the state of Massachusetts."

Just then Garrett entered the room. Propping himself up with one arm on the doorframe, he said, "Yeah – you're a medical examiner. One of the best I've ever run across."

"Who are you?" Jordan asked.

Garrett smiled sadly. "I'm your boss – Garrett Macy."

"And are you a medical examiner, too?"

"Yes. We've worked together quite a few years."

Jordan laid her head back down on the pillow. This was all too much. Her name was…oh, damn, what was her name again? … Oh yeah, Jordan. Jordan. She had to remember that. Both of these guys looked so worried. Especially the one with the blue eyes. He had the bluest eyes she thought she had ever seen…not that she could remember very much. A medical examiner. Suddenly, she had to ask one more question.

"Old….how old am I?"

Softly stroking her hand, Woody replied, "You're twenty-nine, Jordan."

"What did you say your name was again?"

"Woody."

She smiled. "I'm sorry…I'm just having some trouble remembering right now."

"That's okay, Jo. Just try to get some rest. I'll see you in a little bit." Woody said, rising from his chair and leaving the room. He motioned for Garrett to follow him.

"So what do you think?" Woody asked.

"Well according to what little I know about amnesia and what I do know about brain injury, she's acting pretty normal."

Woody sighed. "It's hard to see her like this … so unsure of herself. That's one thing I've never thought of when dealing with Jordon – uncertainty. But she can't even remember her name very well. What's going to happen, Garrett?

"We've just got to be patient with her and give her time .. lots of time."

The doctors continued to run tests and evaluate Jordan for the next several days. Slowly, but surely, the edema went down. She had normal brain activity. "Her memory should be returning bit by bit," the doctor told a worried morgue staff and Woody.

And Jordan could remember simple things: her name, Woody's name, Garrett's name – but she couldn't remember the place in her life they held. Gradually, she learned to recognize Nigel, Bug, Lily, and Peter. Surprisingly, Jordan never asked about her family or her relationships with other people.

"Let her go at her own pace," the doctor said. "She will let you know when she's ready to know more."

It wasn't that Jordan didn't want to know. But every time she thought about asking more questions, it was like a wall went up in her mind. A wall she was scared to scale, go around or knock down. Something deep within her psychic told her she didn't want to go there. So she left it alone. It was bad enough she had to deal with these awful headaches and the worried looks of everyone around her.

Finally, the doctor said she was ready to go home. She had been in the hospital three weeks and she was now physically ready to leave. Emotionally, was a different issue.

"We can put her in some sort of assisted living arrangement, if you feel that would be best," the doctor told Garrett.

Garrett shook his head and wished, not for the last time, Max was home again. "No. No assisted living arrangements for Jordan. I've seen those and I don't like them. I'll take her home with me. I have an extra bedroom."

"That will work," said the doctor. "She definitely does not need to be on her own until some of her memory returns. Do you want to tell her, or do you want me to tell her?"

"I'll talk to her"

Garrett walked down the hallway to Jordan's room. By instinct, his feet took him to room 4015. He had walked this hall so many times he could find her room with his eyes closed. "Hey, Jord. How you feeling?"

Jordan was sitting up in bed, reading a magazine. Despite the fact that her memory had not returned, much of her old personality had – a comforting factor to everyone. "I'm fine. Do you know that awful lime green color is supposed to be 'in' this Spring? I'll look horrible in that…."

Garrett smiled. Her cheeks had some color in them now and her black eye was gone. For whatever reason, she had stopped straightening her hair and was letting it fall in waves over her shoulders. "Do you remember who I am?"

"Of course. You are my boss, Dr. Garrett Macy."

"How do you feel about getting out of here and going home?"

Jordan looked up in surprise. "Home? But where's ….."

Garrett came in the room and sat down by her bed. Taking her hand, he explained, "You have an apartment on Pearle Street, not far from where we work. But the doctor and I both agree that you shouldn't be by yourself – not yet – at least until some of your memory returns. So I'm going to take you home with me for a while. I have a two-bedroom apartment and you'll be comfortable there. We can ride to work together when you're feeling better."

"Can I go by where my apartment is and get some of my stuff?"

"Sure."

"When do I get to leave?"

"Your doctor says tomorrow."

The next day Garrett picked Jordan up and took her to her apartment. He was hoping, as they got off the elevator on the second floor, that once Jordan saw some of her normal surroundings, a memory may be jogged.

"Here we are," he said as he opened the big, red door. Jordan followed Garrett in and slowly looked around. She knew she had been here before, but somehow it didn't feel familiar.

"So…. This is where I live?"

"Yeah." Garrett watched her closely for any sign of recognition. She was slowly walking around her apartment, looking, but not touching anything – like she was in someone else's home – admiring how they had decorated, but afraid to handle anything for fear of breaking it. Walking into the bedroom, she began to go through her closet and dresser, pulling out things to pack.

"How long have I lived here?"

"Hmmm, about three years, I think."

"Oh."

Jordan emerged from the bedroom with her suitcase. "I think I'm ready."

Garrett drove Jordan back to his apartment and got her settled into her room. "Look, I'm going to have to go into work now," he said. "But Woody is coming over to stay with you. Tomorrow, if you feel like it, you can go into work with me and we'll see how much you remember about being a medical examiner, okay?"

Jordan nodded. Frankly, she was more tired than she let Garrett know. It wasn't so much the physical exertion that exhausted her. It was the mental effort that was wearing her out. Trying to remember. Trying to somehow prompt herself to remember something. Looking at faces, things….all in the hopes that it would trigger her memory back. But what was even worse, at least for Jordan, was watching the people around her, watch her, to see if she remembered anything. The looks of disappointment in their faces when nothing would come to her…nothing…it was too much to bear.

It wasn't that she wanted to continue in this memory-less void. She wanted to remember – names, places, events that happened to her. But they wouldn't come. It was like some kind of wall was there. And until she knew what to do with it, she knew, deep down inside, that she was destined simply not to remember her past. Just try to deal with the here and now and the what may come.