Part 9 inspirational soundtrack
"She's… something's different about her," Emily explained from behind the glass. The nurse was tending to Naomi's needs in the room, which meant that no visitors until the processes were complete. "She's doing better, Ms. Fitch," the doctor explained. Emily nibbled on what was left of her nails. She felt something wrong. Anyone that knew Naomi could see it. It had been a few weeks into the treatment and Naomi's hair was starting to grow back. The color returned to her face and that bright blueish gray had sparkled in her eye. Something was off. Emily could sense it. It didn't feel right in the pit of her stomach. Like they were playing God or something worse. Naomi hadn't spoken since after their first visit together in the facility. The doctor's just said she happened to be tired, but Naomi didn't look herself.
She looked well. She looked better. She looked like she could run a mile easily. But… she wasn't speaking. She wasn't saying anything for that matter. Not even to the doctors. Naomi would write down her analysis and how she felt for the summarization of how the medication was doing, but that was that. Emily wanted to know what was wrong. She wanted to help, but she couldn't do anything behind this fucking glass window.
Emily was stuck outside with the doctor that didn't seem to see anything wrong medically. "How are the other patients doing then? The whole process. If this one is doing well, how about the others?" Emily asked, eyes still focused on Naomi who was blankly staring at the ceiling. "Ten fails. All leukemia patients." Stone cold voice. Ten out of one hundred people didn't make it and it had only been a few weeks in. Emily chewed on her bottom lip. "Are the chances still high for her?" No answer. The doctors were still hiding something. "You may go in now," the nurse popped her head out from the room and Emily nodded, glaring at the doctor while she walked past.
She only had two days a week to visit Naomi and even if she had been doing better these few weeks here, Emily didn't see progress. She saw an empty body, sitting, staring, hopeless. "Naoms?" Emily approached the bed and Naomi only moved her eyes to see just the edge of Emily's face. "I'm here for my visit. How are you feeling?" Naomi stared straight at the wall. It had been like this for three weeks. Three bloody weeks. Like her brain had turned to mush and disintegrated under the scope of the doctors. "Say something… please?" Emily stood in front of Naomi, folding her hands together. Naomi looked up, bags still under her eyes but more color to her face. "Naoms…" Emily beckoned and she just stared once more. Naomi shook her head, her eyes lost in Emily's face. Like she had never seen her before.
"I-I…" Naomi's eyes narrowed, thinking, pondering, and wondering. "I don't… remember your name?" Emily stared, hiding behind her mask of bravery. "Emily, I'm Emily, remember?" Naomi stared. Her face contorting into that familiar face when she was thinking too hard. "Em….ill…y," Naomi shook her dizzy head. "I know, I know you," Emily sighed. Wiping under her eyes quickly. She walked her way toward the side of the bed and climbed in with Naomi. She seemed to not mind, even if Emily at this point in time was a complete stranger. Her eyes closed and Naomi sat back resting herself along Emily's side.
She had to believe this wasn't going to get worse. The doctors believed it was nothing, but someone's mind wasn't supposed to leave them. Not now. Not during this stage Naomi was in. She needed her memories. She needed her hope and help. She needed to know she wasn't alone in this. Emily had to make that her job; never let her lose hope.
"Ms. Fitch," Emily felt a small shake on the side of her arm. Naomi's nurse produced a weak smile. "Visiting hours are over. We have to ask you to leave unfortunately." Emily lifted her legs from the bed and stood up. Naomi was fast asleep, without her hat on. She hadn't worn it the past few times she had visited. "Is… uhm, is she really okay?" Emily asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "The doctors say so. I can't really say much else. I'm sorry." Her nurse patted Emily's shoulder while she made her way to the exit. "When she wakes, would you tell her that I was here? If she remembers…" Emily held the handle shaking through her skin. She was terrified. Being forgotten was an inexplicable fate. "Of course, dear. Of course."
Naomi's eyes fluttered open from the prick of a needle in her vein. "Fuck," she groaned until the medication was applied. "All done. Here, here," her nurse bandaged a cotton ball on the underneath of her forearm. "You wouldn't give up on me would you?" Naomi looked up, smiling dazed. "Of course not. You're a fighter aren't you?" Naomi sleepily nodded against her pillow. "Emily was here, you know?" Naomi looked up at Sarah. "Who?" Sarah turned around to grab the photo off the ledge. "Her, she's your girlfriend, remember?" Naomi held the corners of the frame, staring puzzled at the photo. "Oh," she finally remembered. A small flash in her brain, like a Polaroid camera setting off. "She used to own a scooter. We…" Naomi stared up to the right. Trying her hardest to remember as best as she could.
"And?" Sarah finished, only trying to help. She told Naomi not to lose herself, but she couldn't deny what Emily's concerns were. Naomi's brain was lost. In some sort of funk of medication and blur. "Uhm, she…" Naomi's voice dragged on, with vigorous blinking. Sarah knew what this meant. Just because her body was getting better, didn't mean her mind was all there. It was slowly deteriorating. Her memories and thoughts, all gone in a hazed coma of medication. "I don't…" Sarah took the photo frame from her hand and placed it next to the single flower in the vase. "Don't tire yourself, dear." She patted Naomi's shoulder and grabbed her chart. "I have to chat with the doctor, but I'll be back soon. Here's the remote." She handed the television remote to Naomi and smiled walking her way out.
Naomi had no use for television. She didn't really like it in the first place. Only when she wanted to pass time or when she couldn't really produce the strength to go out in the last few months. Her eyes traveled along the wall pattern to the window. The frame sat neatly next to a wilting lily. "Oh," Naomi sighed, finally noticing the flower had started to die. It upset her, but she wasn't entirely sure why. The photo was a nice one next to it. Flowers were supposed to die, right? Naomi rubbed under her nose and eyes, not realizing she was tearing up until her finger was wet. Emily… she had to remember her story. She had to remember her. She had to remember herself. Naomi could barely understand who she was most of the day. It wasn't fair. She didn't want to be this way, but her mind wasn't there. It felt six feet under. It felt lost and disconnected. Emily. Naomi closed her eyes, focusing and rummaging her memories. A sparkle of red hair here. A flicker of brown eyes there. But, nothing seemed to come about. Nothing at all.
"Doctor, she's losing her memory…" Sarah sat in the chair holding the results from Naomi's current screening. "She barely remembers a few things from yesterday. I think we-" The doctor held up his hand. "Her diagnosis is depleting. She's doing well. Some precautions need to be taken. She might not be who she was before. She might need some rehabilitation to walk again, speak again, or even remember things. Some things she won't remember ever again. It's the price you pay, Sarah." She sat silently. He was right. They were playing a dangerous game, but it was all research. "Her family and friends need to accept it, Sarah. We can't keep her together alone you know." She quietly nodded. "Well, here's her progress." She pushed the clipboard across his desk and stood up. "I need to get back to my patient," she swiftly turned to the exit but was interrupted. "Sarah, you cannot be too attached to these patients. We discussed this. Anything could happen at any time. She's not yours, she's a test subject." Sarah left hastily.
"Ms. Fitch, hello… it's Sarah, Naomi's nurse. We're just updating you on her progress. The protein seems to be doing what we wished so far. Just a few weeks in. This process might take a long while too, still. I'm calling you for a specific reasoning. You are right. There is something wrong and I was advised not to repeat this information to you but I feel you must know. Naomi's memories are… how you say… fogged, for now. Not forever but it could be permanent. I ask that you help in that aspect, since you know her so well. She didn't remember your name today. She did remember a story about you two though, but couldn't finish it. I ask that you help her remember. I ask that you help her remember who she is, who you are, and how happy she used to be. Because right now, she's losing herself and she promised you that she wouldn't. I'm calling as a concern, not as a nurse. Please. Do what you can, bring more photos, tell her stories about you two. Do something. Because we both know that she's a bright girl that cannot do this alone."
Emily ended the voicemail. Her heart was swerving left and right. She knew. She knew this whole time and only one person cared. One person cared enough to warn her. They wouldn't grant her more visiting hours. They wouldn't give her special treatment just because this was Naomi Campbell. No. They wouldn't do anything but their research, like they had said from the beginning. Emily was losing her hope along the way. She didn't want to be forgotten by the most important person to her. She didn't want to be a lost memory that never existed in Naomi's mind. They were special. They were something more than special.