Chapter 10

Brian was in his typical Wednesday morning spot. The west corner of the occupational therapy wing of Memorial Hospital on the outskirts of sunny Pittsburgh. He was talking with Ted via his new blackberry. Justin had joked that if Brian had known he could get so much work done with the tiny instrument and never have to set foot in the office, he would have gotten one years ago. In the past he had relied on his phone, his laptop, and Cynthia to keep him posted. About a month before the accident, during the 'Raleigh interlude' as Justin liked to call the period, Ted had introduced the hand held to Brian and other key staff. Now, it was a priceless asset, it enabled Brian to be a completely cohesive part of work at the office and only have to carry around one tiny tool. It also allowed him the freedom to stay most days with Justin. He still made face time at the office on Tuesday's and Thursday's, but could do practically any other work from here. The budgetary spending in Raleigh was more than Ted had predicted, so he and Brian were discussing options for the next quarter. When he sent his final comments, he shut down the work option and opened up the gaming site. While it was loading he looked over at Justin.

How could five days make such a difference? It was only five short days ago that he got Justin's call, the one he thought was a sick joke. Justin was awake. He was awake and whole. All the morose visions of the future, Brian thought were materializing, vanished in an instant. There was great rejoicing when he got back to the unit. They talked for as long as they could that first day, it was as if they were afraid to go to sleep. Fear that Justin would not wake up weighed heavily on both of them. But, after Will's all clear, Justin ate and they tried to sleep. Justin laughed at some point in the evening, when he realized they were now on a first name basis with his doctor.

That first night, Brian slipped into bed next to Justin. It was like coming home. And while nothing more intense than heavy kissing took place, both men felt more alive than they had in over a month. Both of them joked about the fact that even with pajamas and gimpy limbs, being together was being alive.

The following days flew by in a series of therapy sessions sandwiched together with rest and eating. A nutritionist, Susan Frisk, spoke with the both of them that second day, encouraging Justin to make smart choices. He had lost a significant amount of weight, from both the accident and the 28 days of unconsciousness.

Neither man liked to refer to the time as 'being in a coma', it was a painful reminder of how much the man had endured. They joked that "the 28 days of sleep" sounded more dramatic and also linked Justin with the hottie from the cult classic British film they both loved, 28 Days Later.

Aside from all of that Ms. Frisk encouraged Justin to eat up to six small meals a day, with lots of carbohydrates and protein. She continued with her speech about good diet until Justin stopped her. He pointed out that Brian's near obsession with good diet and health made everything she was telling him redundant. He recognized all the points she made, and assured her he would do his best.

What he did not tell her was that morning he had asked Brian for a mirror to look at himself, and what he saw shocked him. His face was drawn and his cheeks hollow. He had dark circles under his eyes and even his hair seemed thinner. He knew he needed to eat. He had to get energy to work on recovery and get rid of the zombie like appearance he had. What Ms. Frisk said made sense to him, more than she would ever recognize.

So here they were five days into the real 'nuts and bolts' of his therapy. Today was OT, fine motor stuff. This was the stuff Justin struggled with the most. The uncontrolled shaking and tremors infuriated him. It was post - bashing behavior all over again, only worse. Both hands and arms were unpredictable, some days he had great sensation and control, other days nothing worked right. Today seemed to be somewhere in the middle. He had been complaining of painful cramps and tingling in his right hand since yesterday, but it was not overwhelming him, medication was keeping it at bay. Brian worried about how long the medication would work, and if this would turn into another seizure, as it had in the past. So far, it had not. Another difference was this time it was not both hands, his left was doing remarkably well today.

Today's task was picking up goldfish and eating them successfully. 'It sounds so elementary,' Brian thought to himself, "a grown man struggling to eat a kids snack.' And struggle he did, his left hand was more successful at picking up individual crackers and moving them to his mouth. His right had a habit of crushing the crackers, or dropping them once he began moving his arm and hand towards his mouth. He had a bowl of about 50 fish in front of him at the beginning of the session, now there was less than a dozen left. Brian could tell Justin was losing patience.

He shut off the blackberry, closed up his files and walked over to Justin and his therapist. "Hey Zoe, how's it going today? Do you think I could get some of those crackers? You know, when my son was little, he ate these things all the time. Justin was kind enough to introduce him to the pizza flavored ones. Sadly, my son is 14 now, eating regular pizza a lot more than little fish, and I never get them. I would never admit it in public, but I think I like them more now than I did then."

Zoe Stoner, Justin's occupational therapist laughed. "I don't know, those were the last of the bag Justin had. Hey Justin, are you going to share with Brian?" Zoe thought to herself, 'He's slick. He chats with me to give Justin a break. Then he coyly smiles at Justin so he will feed him the damn things, keeping up the therapy. He's across the room doing work, but never misses a beat of what Justin's going through.'

Justin interrupted her thoughts, "You're not fooling anyone dick head, I know what you're doing. I'm tired. I'm sick of crushing little defenseless crackers and I don't want to feed you like some god 'wanna be', okay?"

Brian smiled, "Come on Justin, either they go in your mouth - and you are the one that needs the calories, or they go in mine. You put them there. Finish the task, then we can move on. You can go back to the unit and get some rest before lunch. It's up to you, be a bitch about it, or humor me and we all leave this session smiling."

Justin considered his options, "You suck" was his only reply as he gathered four of the fish in his hand and swooped them into his mouth.

"If you eat all your fish, I just might." Brian answered.

Zoe blushed slightly, it was not that she was embarrassed by their sexually charged and typically obscene chatter, it was that she felt she was privy to a private part of the relationship not typically meant for public consumption. "Okay guys, keep it up, the next thing you know, the old people in here will be complaining about the 'dirty-gay show' you're putting on."

"No they won't Zoe, between Brian's professional public persona, and my boyish good looks, no one would dare complain." Justin ate more crackers to drive his point home.

All three laughed.

"You're right, I just can't get over you two. And would you look at that. Brian's nagging persistence and Justin's pigheadedness completed the task. How do the fingers feel Justin?"

"They're okay, it's not my fingers, it feels like my right wrist is cramping and the lower arm won't stop jumping."

"I can see that. When are you do for meds?"

Brian's face darkened, he knew Justin had taken something right before the session.

"I'm not due for anything until this afternoon. It's not too bad, really." Justin was optimistic. It was an optimism Brian did not share. He knew Justin would have more seizures like he had in the past. Endure pain that was hard to imagine. He wondered if this was the beginning of another episode. Both men looked at each other with tight smiles, not sure what to say. Zoe broke the silence.

"Well Justin, monitor the pain closely when you get back, if it does increase let Ken know right away. Don't wait until it hits you like the last time okay? Let us, and Brian, help you through it, okay?"

"Yea, I got it." Justin was quickly becoming sick of these speeches. No one felt the pain but him, how exactly would they be able to help? But he didn't say anything. He was tired, he had given it his all here at therapy, and he wanted to get back and lay down.

Brian read his cues flawlessly, and walked over to his previous chair to retrieve Justin's wheelchair. Within minutes Justin was transferred to the chair and the two of them were off for the 15 minute walk from the hospital grounds to the nearby step down unit grounds. They left Zoe making notes on her chart about the following day's session. She watched them make their way along the path outside. Both bundled up in coats, Justin with a hat he proudly put on himself and mittens that Brian had to put on for him. Bittersweet she thought, being an adult and having to rely on your partner to put on your mittens, not gloves, because your hands were too unsteady to put them on successfully yourself. Zoe put a star next to the item she wanted to work on with Justin in the near future. She closed the file on a list that held many tasks that Justin had to relearn, with 'putting on his own gloves' starred and circled in red.