Donatello stirred awake at the familiar sound of keys tapping in perfect harmony, and rolled his neck in the direction of the desk. He squinted and made out Caleb's reddish-brown hair. He instinctively tried to call out to him, before remembering that he couldn't speak.
While he waited for the man to notice him, he wriggled his fingers experimentally to find out if he'd gained any new mobility. He made a fist with his right hand, but couldn't so much as rotate his wrist. Donatello sighed inwardly. I guess it's time to try something else. Something has to work.
He flexed his right foot, and was pleased to discover a wider range of motion than he'd had previously. With a strong sense of concentration, Donny shifted his foot sideways. To his annoyance, he couldn't move it with sufficient strength to create any kind of sound against the railing.
Frustration was swift to leap to the surface, making him want to fume over his inability to do a single thing for himself. As disconcerting as it was to barely be able to move, the lack of communication was getting to him the most.
Donatello wanted to grill the docs with questions every time he saw them. He understood that they wanted to use stem cells to help him, but the dizzying words they were using among each other made him feel like they were speaking another language. The turtle had readily agreed to any procedure that stood the chance of helping him regain function in his mind and body but he didn't understand what the next step was.
Donny had a vague recollection that tomorrow was supposed to be important, but the specifics of how the stem cells could initially impact him were lost somewhere in the recesses of his mind. They told me, I'm sure they told me, but it's still escaping me. It's as if things keep getting buried, and I'm too tired to dig them up. I don't even have the ability to ask them to tell me everything again.
Anger at the situation and his faltering mind made him want to curse, though he couldn't voluntarily utter a sound. He could only lay there and watch the back of Caleb's head, until—
The man turned and the overhead lighting glinted off his glasses. Caleb's blue eyes widened slightly when he found the turtle staring at him. "Hi there, Donatello. I'm sorry I didn't notice you. Have you been up for very long?"
Donny shook his head. Inwardly he recognized that all of Caleb's current efforts were for him, but it was difficult to rein in the irritation that was boiling under the surface. Caleb studied him for a few seconds, and concern reflected in his features.
"Is something bothering you?" he asked.
Why would something be bothering me? Just because I'm barely moving, thinking, or talking? Is that something I should be upset about?
"Do you need to see someone else?"
Don shook his head. Not necessarily. You have to know more about this procedure than anyone else does.
"Do you want me to leave you alone?"
The turtle shook his head as emphatically as he could manage.
"Then you want me to talk to you."
Donatello nodded wearily.
"Do you want to hear something specific? Do you still have questions about what's going to happen tomorrow?"
Don nodded once more. Tell me everything again. Maybe I'll remember it for a couple of hours.
Caleb grabbed a desk chair and wheeled it across the room so he could sit by the turtle. "Okay. There are a couple of different methods we could use for getting the stem cells where they need to go. The one we selected is the least invasive and most effective way to target specific lesions.
"It's called a stereotactic brain injection. It will involve the application of a temporary frame to help us map the areas where the transplants are going to be delivered. The process requires making very small nicks in your scalp, so that a thin needle can be inserted to make the injections.
"The stem cells are going to be surrounding the lesions, where they have the best potential for stimulating the healing of damaged cells. In the case of using the iPs cells, we also have a good chance that they will replicate to help replace the dead cells. Obviously nothing like this is taking place in the States yet, but the procedure is being carried out regularly in other countries, such as China.
"Depending on which doctor you subscribe to there have been varying degrees of success, but the rates of recovery numbers are high. I've seen posted results of 70-84% effectiveness in patients regaining function. The impact of the procedure has been significant, even with only one or two transplants.
"The complete results won't be realized for 6 months to a year, but the immediate effects of many cases have been astounding. The doctors are seeing increased cognitive ability with improvement in memory and problem solving skills, greater flexibility and coordination, along with strength building and a capacity for exercise.
"What all that means is that you're going to be set up in the best possible position for therapy. If all goes well with the first treatment, we can begin a second within five days. The sooner the injured cells are addressed, the better impact the procedure should have. Does this make sense, Donny?"
Donatello nodded solemnly. Yeah. My greatest chance for getting my life back is in these injections. But am I going to talk?
"Would you be inclined to let me do whatever I wanted with you, even if you didn't understand it?" Caleb asked.
At his repeated nod, Caleb gave him a small smile. "I'm honored by your confidence. I'm hoping that I can earn it all over again."
You don't have to earn it, Caleb.
"The interesting part about the therapy in our case is that most of China's procedures have been carried out only using adult stem cells. They've harnessed the ability to encourage cells to repair themselves, but they haven't been replacing dead ones. The iPs cells I use are still a new technology, and the ability to create them efficiently at a lower cost isn't something many people can do. It requires the use of special equipment, as you well know." Caleb gave him a wider grin.
"I was preparing for this eventuality while you were still in a coma, Donny. It was a step of faith at the time, but I really believed you would come back to us."
Donatello wanted to sigh. I'm back, but I'm not back. Maybe this treatment can help change that.
The effort to keep his head up was becoming too much for Donatello. The turtle leaned back against his pillow tiredly, suddenly realizing what had made him feel wearier. Focusing on people for any length of time requires a lot more work than it should. I shouldn't need a nap every time I listen to someone talk. He hated the feeling and couldn't contain the scowl that came up with it.
"Am I bothering you, Donny?"
No, I'm bothering me, Caleb. Donatello blinked his answer to the man this time, instead of shaking his head.
"Are you getting tired?"
Donatello rolled his eyes.
"Donny, you've been through something that a lot of people wouldn't have survived. There's nothing wrong with taking things slow. We're not in a race against time. It's more like a marathon, long distance running. And yes, you're going to wear out faster than you ever have in the past, but at least you have the chance of competing, and the opportunity to recover. After tomorrow, you should be able to take some stronger strides. In the meantime, don't get angry that you need the extra rest."
A light scratching at the door garnered Donatello's attention and he raised his head for a moment before he had to lie down again. Caleb rose from his chair with a smile.
"I know who that sounds like."
As Caleb walked over to the door, Donatello tried to follow him with his eyes. "All right, you guys. Ten minutes, and that's all you're getting."
As the two Border Collies entered the room Caleb carefully steered them clear of important equipment. It didn't look like it was really necessary for the man to shoo them in the right direction, at least not in Molly's case.
The female Border Collie made a bee-line for Donatello, whining softly as she pawed the mattress and nudged his arm with her nose. He smiled at Molly as she pressed her head under the railing, and dug her nose under his hand.
The turtle couldn't quite pet her due to the way in which she was stuffing her muzzle into his palm, but then the dog changed tactics. As she wedged the top of her head under his hand, his fingers finally made contact with her fur. The action pleased Molly so much that her entire body wriggled with her excitement.
Donatello could feel the deep lines in his forehead receding as the dog lingered on the edge of the bed. Noah made a small leap toward the mattress too, and Caleb hovered close by to keep both border collies under control. Don felt badly that he couldn't touch both dogs at once or speak to them, but they appeared happy just to see him.
That's one of the best things about animals. They just want to be with you.
He would have been content for the dogs to stay longer than Caleb was willing to allow. They were still nudging his side and trying to lick his arm to death when the man finally reached to pull them down.
"You'll get to see more of them, Donny, I promise," Caleb assured him. "It has to be in small spurts because of how rambunctious your friends are. Your buddies miss you, Molly especially."
Caleb dragged the Border Collies backwards toward the door, and used his foot to help guide an unwilling Molly back into the living area. When he shut the door, Donny could hear the dogs whining on the other side.
"I feel like I'm torturing them, the poor things. Everybody wants a piece of you, Donatello, even the animals. The waiting list to get in this room never ends. Doc has to institute quiet time so that people aren't constantly knocking down the door."
Donatello smiled faintly. Nice to know they don't want to avoid me in this condition. I wonder when Jen was here last. I wish it wasn't so hard to remember. I wish a lot of things could be easier.
Caleb rested a hand on his shoulder, and the warmth of his touch was comforting. "You feel a little cold," he commented. "Do you want to try using another blanket?"
Donatello nodded once, and the man retrieved another thin blanket from a nearby shelf for him.
"You should sleep now," Caleb told him. "I'm sure you feel like that's all you're doing, but you need it, Donny. Things are going to get better. Believe that, and believe that we're going to stick with you through this entire process. You're never going to be alone."
Donatello watched the man through half-closed lids, grateful for the way Caleb hovered as he was falling asleep. This is the safest I can remember feeling. I know he's got a plan, and he's so good at what he does.
Surrendering to sleep meant the risk of losing information Caleb had just given to him, but it couldn't be helped. Knowing everything that was going on didn't seem to matter as much as it had a few minutes ago. The only thing he wished was that he could have seen Jenna.
She'll still be here when I wake up. Caleb's right, nobody's going to abandon me, no matter how bad this gets. That's what makes this such an amazing family. No one is left behind, forgotten. All of this physical stuff is temporary. I think I can deal with all of it, knowing that they're all waiting in the wings for me.