"Mr. President, Dr. Bartlet, this complication is unexpected. We'll need to do some further testing and check your throat, especially your vocal cords. I've called in a specialist to do this. You know what a bronchoscopy is Dr. Bartlet, but for your benefit, Mr. President, we'll give you a mild sedative and then look at your throat through use of a special instrument. You won't remember anything about it and you'll wake up back here."
Abbey could tell Jed wanted to say something, but couldn't. She knew he had to be totally frustrated. He was so vocal in everything that he did. "Jed, it is the best way of finding out what's going on. We do need to know."
Noting his frustration, she handed him a piece of paper and a pen. "Here. Tell me what you think."
For the first time in thirty-six hours she laughed. "No, dear. You cannot have any ice cream afterwards. In fact, until this whole episode resolves itself, food of any kind except through your IV will not be allowed."
Abbey could see the disappointment on her husband's face. "Don't worry. When this is all over, I'll even let you have a steak." She was rewarded with a broad smile.
"Okay. I'll see you downstairs." Both Abbey and Jed nodded as Dr. Taylor left the room to prepare.
Jed looked into Abbey's eyes. Somehow, he needed to get across his feelings to her. His feelings of fear. His feelings of love for her staying by his side. But he couldn't.
Abbey sensed his feelings and leaned over him to whisper her support and understanding. "Jed, it'll be fine. You'll be back here in no time. And then maybe we'll have some answers."
Jed returned to his room within the hour, sleeping soundly. Abbey sat by his bedside, thinking about what the future held. 'What if his voice never returned? What if there's permanent damage? Will I ever hear him say again he loved me? Words on paper are not quite the same.'
In a few minutes, Dr. Taylor returned with a physician Abbey had never seen before. She must be the specialist called in to check the President.
"Let's go out into the hall, Dr. Bartlet, so we don't disturb him."
Abbey followed them into the hall, praying for strength to handle whatever they were about to tell her. She hoped she could handle the worst of the outcomes, silently praying for the best possible. How strong was she going to have to be?
"Mrs. Bartlet, this Dr. Ridge. She performed the test on the President. I'll let her tell you what we found."
"We looked extensively at the vocal cords, and the surrounding tissue and I'm please to say there's no structural damage. The cords are visually intact with no polyps or abnormal tissue present."
"Then why can't he talk?"
Dr. Ridge looked at Dr. Taylor and subtly nodded her head.
Dr. Taylor responded to the First Lady. "We think there's a viral infection in the cords from him swallowing the pond water while he was submerged yesterday. There's no treatment except resting his voice and waiting for the infection to recede. That might happen in a day, or a week. There's no way to know for sure. He's definitely improving in all of the other problems that were caused by the drowning and I could discharge him in the morning, if he feels okay."
"Well, he'll be glad to 'hear' that."
Both Abbey and Dr. Taylor heard the emphasis she placed on the word 'hear'.
"Thank you both for everything. I'm sure he'll want to get out of here in the morning, so let's plan for that. In the meantime, one of our family members will stay with him. I don't want him getting scared that he can't call for help if he needs something."
"Yes, ma'am."
What else could they say? Nothing was going to speed the healing process. It would occur when it was time. And not before. They certainly understood the First Lady's frustration. They just wished they could help both of them.