Author's Note: Thank you to katbybee for helping me with accuracy in depicting Mama Lopez' condition! You are an awesome cowriter!
For all my readers who are preparing to celebrate Christmas, I wish you many blessings and much joy in your holiday. I'll be traveling through the end of the month, so I'm not sure when I'll be able to update again.
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Spanish – English Glossary
Hermanita – Sister
Todo estará bien – Everything will be OK
Te amo - I love you
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June 18, 1977
Dixie stood back, watching Joe and Kel practically drool over Rampart's new CT scanner.
Joe beamed. "She's a real beauty."
Kel whistled, the sort of wolf whistle a crasser man might use on a woman walking by. "Top of the line. All the bells and whistles you could want."
"You fellas look like you're in love," Dixie observed, arching an eyebrow. "Sure hope it doesn't come to a fight."
Kel turned around to look at her, his eyes dancing. "Oh, Joe can have her, as long as you'll go to dinner with me, Dix."
Dixie pretended to think hard about the invitation. She wrinkled her forehead, shook her head a couple of times. Kel looked positively crestfallen. Then Dixie smiled. "I think my schedule's clear. Sure, dinner sounds good, Kel." He brightened considerably.
"I need to use this on Mike Stoker," Joe said, apparently oblivious to anything but the new machine. "See what we've missed in our tests so far."
"Let's get him in here. She's all set up and ready to go." Kel patted on the CT scanner. "Dix, will you take care of that?"
"I'm on my way." She chuckled as she left the room. Those two men were her dearest friends, and she loved seeing them happy.
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Joe stared at the monitor, carefully scrutinizing the image of Mike's brain. There was still a bit of swelling, but for the most part it was resolving well. "What do you think, Kel?"
Kel's forehead wrinkled as he considered the image. "I think it's time to withdraw the sedative and let him start waking up. If he's still having memory issues, you may need to brush up on your psychiatry."
"Oh, I stay brushed up." Joe studied the image a little closer. "And I've considered the possibility that Mike's amnesia might be more than physical. No doubt it was triggered by those hits he took to the head, but he's had a lot of emotional trauma over the last several days and I have an inkling that he feels safer at age thirteen than in the present."
Kel nodded slowly. "I know I've had days when I wish I could be a kid again. All right, let's get him off the sedative and see what happens when he wakes up."
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Marco sat at Mama's bedside. She was so still. Still just didn't look right on Mama. She was always moving, always busy, taking care of her big family. That's what she lived for. Dr. Early had done surgery yesterday to stop the bleeding in her brain. He'd said it was a successful operation, but that they could expect some serious deficits when Mama woke up.
Marco and his siblings had met with the doctor yesterday evening after Mama was moved to Recovery. Along with all their husbands and wives and children, the waiting room had been overflowing. "She'll have weakness, possibly paralysis, on the right side," Dr. Early had told them. "Her speech will likely be impaired, and it's possible she'll have trouble swallowing. There's a long list of potential effects, but we won't know which ones she'll suffer until she wakes up."
Rosita, Marco's oldest sister, tip-toed into the room holding a bag and a beverage from In 'n Out. Marco winced. She had to be out of sorts to be buying fast food — it was anathema among the Lopez women. Rosita thrust the bag into his hands and set the cup on Mama's table. "You have to eat, Marco." Funny how she could be whispering and still sound bossy.
Marco nodded. "Gracias." He looked inside the bag to find a straw, then put it in the drink. He wasn't really hungry, but Rosita was standing there staring at him. She wasn't going to move until he had at least a few bites. He pulled out the burger and took a bite, chewed, and swallowed. After a second and then a third bite, he put it down. "OK, you can stop staring at me. I'll finish it later."
With a reluctant sigh, she sat beside him. "We can't have you wasting away," she said. "We need you. Mama needs you."
"I'm not wasting away. I'm eating just fine." His sisters were just like his mother — certain that if they didn't see him eating, he must not be.
Rosita reached to stroke Mama's fingers. "I can't help but think if they'd just done the surgery sooner, she wouldn't have had the stroke."
"Hey, Dr. Early and Dr. Brackett and all the nurses have been doing everything they can for Mama." Marco sat up straight, ready to tell his sister off if she argued the point. "You haven't been here to see it, but I have. Remember, their CT scanner was destroyed in the quake. Without the right equipment it was a lot harder to see just what treatment she needed and how urgently. She's alive, Rosita, thanks to them. I'm grateful for that. Whatever else we have to deal with, we'll figure it out." He took another bite of the burger, just to appease her.
She stared at him for a few seconds, then backed down. "I… I guess you're right." She grabbed Marco's napkin and used it to blot her wet eyes.
He handed her a clean handkerchief from his pocket. "Keep it. I've got several." When she leaned against him, suddenly sobbing, he stroked her hair and clucked. "Hey, hermanita. Everything is going to be OK."
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Mike awoke to find Nurse Needles sitting near him, reading a book. He didn't say anything to her. He wasn't sure what to say. When she looked up and her eyes met his, she smiled. "Welcome back, my friend."
Mike scrunched up his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut. His head hurt. He felt a thousand memories looming in the shadows and he didn't want to let them in. They had to be terrible memories. That's why he had let them go, wasn't it? What was wrong with him? How could he be a kid in a grown-up body? Why couldn't things just be as easy as him being thirteen and waiting for his mom to get back from wherever she had gone?
A hot tear crept out of one eye and trickled down the side of his face into his hair. "I want my mom," he finally said. "Please get my mom. Tell her I need her."
"Oh, honey, I wish I could." The nurse moved from her chair to sit on the bed and pull him into her arms. His shoulder twinged, but he still nestled close to her and wept. "I can get your f — I mean, your Gramps. He's just upstairs."
Mike nodded. He couldn't push any more words out. He was scared and lonely and desperately wanted his mother, but Gramps would have to do.
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As Dixie passed the nurse's station, she asked Wanda Leeds to page Dr. Early to Mike's room. Then she trotted up the stairs to the boys' floor. After getting a good night's sleep, Nic Stoker had divided most of his time today between his grandsons and Beth. The boys were napping and Nic wasn't with them, so Dixie headed back down to Beth's room. She poked her head in to find Nic and Beth reminiscing about Lucy Stoker. Beth was laughing, but her eyes held a deep sorrow. "Excuse me, Mr. Stoker? Could we talk a moment please?"
"Is it about Mike?" Beth asked. "Please tell me what's going on with my husband?"
Dixie caught in a deep breath, made a decision, and stepped into the room. There was no longer any reason to keep the news from Beth. Her delirium had vanished with her fever, and she was gaining strength. She needed to know the truth. Dixie glanced at Nic, who nodded for her to go ahead. "Beth, your husband suffered a couple of hard blows to the head. When he regained consciousness, he believed he was only thirteen years old and had taken a fall from his bike. Dr. Early believes this condition is temporary. Right now, he's awake and crying for his mother. Mr. Stoker, he's willing to see his Gramps instead."
"Gramps?" Beth looked at her father-in-law. "But… he's been gone for years."
Nic shrugged. "To Mike right now, I'm Gramps. He thinks his dad is stationed on Crete." He squeezed Beth's hand and kissed her forehead. "He's going to be all right, honey. Just give him time."
Beth nodded wordlessly.
"I'll be back soon." Nic got up from his seat and left the room with Dixie.
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Joe asked Dr. Morton to take over his case in Treatment Room 4, a three-year-old who had stuffed a marble up his nose. Right now, Mike was Joe's priority. If he was still suffering amnesia, Joe had an idea of how to help him. He'd contacted a former colleague, who was ready to come over to Rampart any time. First, though, Joe felt he needed approval from Mike and his father. As long as Mike considered himself a minor, he couldn't be expected to make decisions about his treatment, but for what Joe had in mind, he would need to be a willing participant.
He was glad to see Nic Stoker and Dixie in the room when he got there. "Hello, Mr. Stoker. Hello, Mike."
Mike's eyes went down, and he didn't speak. He was clinging tight to Nic. Joe had worried about this. Nurse Chambers had eroded the trust he'd worked hard to establish with his patient.
"Hey, Mike. Remember me?" Joe sat in one of the plastic chairs. He didn't want to tower over Mike. "I'm Dr. Early. You were drawing pictures for me a couple days ago. You took a long nap after that. In fact, I bet you're really hungry. Should I have Nurse Needles get you some ice cream?"
Mike didn't look up, but he nodded. Joe counted any response as progress. He turned to Dixie. "I think I remember that he likes chocolate."
"Coming right up." Dixie stepped out.
"Mike," Joe said, "I want to talk with you and your Gramps about what we're going to do to help you. Do you remember that we were talking about how sometimes a head injury can make us forget things, but that I thought those memories were there, just under the surface?"
Mike was still clammed up, but he nodded again.
"All right, well I'd like to see whether we can get at those memories, pull them up to the surface. My friend Dr. Deutschmann is a psychologist who specializes in hypnotherapy. If you and your Gramps are willing, he will have a session with you. It's a simple process. He would hypnotize you and then talk with you about what you remember."
That got Mike's attention. He looked up, his brow furrowed. "Hypnotize? You mean like the guy at the county fair who made a lady in the audience think she was a duck and every time a bell rang she started quacking and flapping her arms?"
Joe chuckled. "Not a bit like that. The fellow at the county fair was a fake and probably paid that lady to be part of his act. But Dr. Deutschmann is the real thing. He can't hypnotize you if you're not willing, though. It doesn't work that way. And he can't make you do anything you're not willing to do. I promise you won't come out of it quacking."
Mike frowned. "I still don't know." He looked at Nic. "Gramps? Shouldn't we ask Mom?"
Nic shook his head. "You have to decide, Mike. I think it's a good idea, though."
"Can you trust me, Mike?" Joe asked. Thirteen-year-old Mike barely knew him, but Joe hoped that somewhere deep inside, grown-up Mike understood that his doctor would never do anything to hurt him.
Mike was quiet for a long moment, then he nodded. "Yeah, I can. I'm not sure why, but I can. I'll do it if you think I should, Doc." He wrinkled up his forehead again. "I need a name for you." Just then, Dixie came in with a bowl of ice cream. Mike brightened. "I got it! Nurse Needles and Dr. Early Bird."
Joe chuckled. "I think I can live with that, as long as no one tries feeding me worms. Enjoy your ice cream, Mike. But don't let it keep you from eating your lunch when it comes. I'm going to go call Dr. Deutschmann."
Mike rubbed his stomach. "Don't worry. I'm real hungry." He plunged the spoon into the ice cream and took a bite. "Thanks, Nurse Needles."
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As Dad turned onto their street, JoAnne's heart was in her throat. She didn't know what to expect. The streets were a mess. Workers and heavy machinery were busy with repairs on the bigger streets, but they hadn't gotten to the little residential ones yet. Dad maneuvered carefully around the cracks and uneven spots in the road. JoAnne squeezed her eyes shut. The destruction turned her stomach.
"Where's our house, Mommy?" Megan asked from the back seat.
JoAnne opened her eyes. Her heart sank. She looked around for a minute, thinking maybe Dad had the wrong house. But no, he had parked in front of the mailbox with their address on it. The mailbox was the only thing still standing. The house itself was a pile of rubble. Jo swallowed hard. Megan's question still hung in the air. How should she answer?
"It fell down in the quake, stupid," said Chris.
"Don't you talk to your sister like that, young man." Dad turned and gave Chris a stern look, the sort he'd always used when Jo and Elaine were kids and started fighting. Jo knew she should have reprimanded her son, but she was still stuck on the question of where they would go tonight, what they would do, so she had left it to Dad. He was rarely gruff with his grandkids, but he meant business now and Chris knew it.
The boy's eyes got big, and one tear dripped down his cheek. "Sorry." He sniffed.
Dad's voice softened. "We have enough to deal with without you being mean to your sister," he said.
Chris stared out the car window. "Is all our stuff gone?" he asked, his voice suddenly thin and quiet. Jo looked back at him and was rewarded with the sight of him reaching for Megan's hand.
"I don't know." Jo felt guilty. She should have answers for her kids. She didn't even know where to find their insurance paperwork at this point. "It will take time to find out what survived and what didn't. Dad, you can't stay here with the kids. Just take me to Rampart now, OK? We'll figure out the next step from there."
"Yeah." Dad turned the car around and drove the familiar route to Rampart.
As they turned into the parking lot, Jo realized her hands were trembling. Her heart was pounding double time, too. Dad parked the car and she wanted to get out, but she couldn't make her body move. She was frozen in place, uncertain what to do or where to go. She'd said they would figure out the next step from here, but she couldn't even manage to take a step out of the car. What would she find in Roy's hospital room? How could she tell him about the house on top of everything else? How would they move forward without Mama DeSoto?
Dad's hand came down on her shoulder. Jo had been so busy putting on a brave face for the kids, just like Roy asked her to, but she couldn't anymore. Her eyes were flooding with tears, and she didn't try to stop them. "How are we gonna handle this, Daddy?" When she was a little girl, she'd looked up to him as her hero. He could solve any problem she could think of, but she'd never imagined anything like this.
"We take one step at a time, honey." He rubbed gentle circles on her back. "First you go up and see Roy while I take the kids to the playground. Then we move on to the next thing. And you won't go through any of it alone. I'm here as long as you need me." He kissed her on the cheek. "Listen to me, JoAnne Frazier DeSoto, you and Roy are two of the strongest people I know. This is going to be hard, but I have faith that you can get through it."
"Thanks, Dad." Jo swallowed hard, gathered her courage, and opened her door. She kissed D.J. on the head, then looked at the kids in the back seat. "Chris, Megan, listen to your grandfather." Then she handed D.J. to his grampa, got out of the car, and walked toward Rampart.
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Lili slowly opened her eyes. She knew something was wrong right away. Her mind was fuzzy. She felt disconnected from everything around her. She knew vaguely that she was in a hospital, but she had no idea why. She was scared, but in no pain. In fact, she felt very little, which scared her even more. From somewhere, she heard a machine beeping. She knew it meant something, but she had no idea what. She just wanted to sleep more, but her fear wouldn't let her. She tried to call for help, but her speech wasn't working right either. Garbled sounds came from her mouth, and she began to cry.
Suddenly she felt a hand on hers. Marco's hand, strong and warm. Soon his face filled her view. He wiped the tears from her cheeks with a handkerchief. "Hey, Mama. It's good to see you awake. You're at Rampart. You've had a stroke."
A stroke? When? How? Lili continued to make the garbled sounds. She was trying to form words in Spanish, to voice her questions, but her mouth would not cooperate. She gripped Marco's hand. She wanted to grab at him with the other hand too, but she couldn't make it do what she wanted. It felt heavy, numb, like it wasn't even there.
Marco moved from his chair to sit on her bed and gathered her into his arms. "Hey," he whispered. She felt his kiss on her forehead. "Todo estará bien, Mama," he murmured. "Whatever it takes, we'll get through this."
Liliana clutched his arm tightly. His words gave her hope, though she was still confused. At least my son is with me!
"Mama, I'm going to send for Dr. Early. He'll want to know you're awake." Marco reached across her. A few minutes later, a nurse came into the room. He asked her to get the doctor. He never moved away. He just sat there, stroking her hair. "Te amo, Mama," he said gently. His voice wavered. Was he trying not to cry? "Te amo."
Everything was so bright. The light hitting her eyes was knife sharp. She shut her eyes against the sudden pain and moaned quietly.
When she opened her eyes again, the doctor was there. Dr. Early. She knew him. He'd put stitches in her leg once, years ago. Marco was still holding her, stroking her hair, whispering gently to her. The lights were still too bright. She blinked and moaned. Marco seemed to understand. He moved his hand so that it shaded her eyes. The doctor put a hand on her shoulder while his other hand held up his penlight. "Hello, Mrs. Lopez. Could you look at me for a moment?"
She obeyed. He flicked the light in her eyes. Bright light. Like knives again. She pulled her good hand away from Marco and batted at the intrusive instrument. Dr. Early lowered it and wrote something down.
"Mrs. Lopez," he asked, "can you tell me your son's name?"
"Mmmmuhooooh." She tried to enunciate it properly, but all she could get out was that strangled mish-mash.
Dr. Early nodded and wrote some more. Then he patted her shoulder and smiled. "Yes, Marco. He's a son to be proud of."
Her heart warmed at that, but she was still scared and confused.
Dr. Early laid his hand over Mama's and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I know it's difficult, Mrs. Lopez. You've had a severe stroke, but we're going to work with you and help you all the way through your recovery. Things will get better."
"Gcha lahhng?" she slurred.
Marco was quick to jump in, eager to interpret for her. "She wants to know…"
Joe Early held up a hand. "It's OK, Marco. I understood. Mrs. Lopez, I can't say how long it will take. A lot of that depends on how hard you're willing to work. We also need to determine what other effects the stroke has had on you."
She raised her left hand and spoke as clearly as she could, "Coooog."
This time Dr. Early looked to Marco.
"You want to cook, Mama?" Marco asked. "I don't think…" His voice trailed off. Lili's hopes fell. He thought she couldn't cook anymore. But cooking was her life, the way she showed her love. How would she ever take care of her family? She didn't want to be a burden. She felt her eyes getting wet, felt the tears starting to track down her cheeks.
Dr. Early smiled. "Actually, I think cooking would be a great form of physical therapy." His eyes sparkled. "And I would love to eat some more of your tamales, Mrs. Lopez. Best I've ever had."
Lili grabbed the doctor's hand. He understood. Why didn't Marco? "Gooooo."
The doctor patted her shoulder. "We'll get you back in the kitchen, Mrs. Lopez. Unfortunately, our hospital food doesn't hold a candle to your cooking. Maybe your daughters would like to bring you food. They just need to clear everything with me, first."
Lili's eyes began to droop. She was exhausted. But at least she wasn't as scared as before.
Dr. Early smiled at her. "Get some rest, Mrs. Lopez."
Marco lowered Lili back onto the pillow. She felt him move away from the bed, but he kept a hand on hers. "I'm going to take a leave from the fire department, Doc. Out of all my siblings, I've always been closest to Mama, and I'm the only one without a spouse or kids. She needs me."
Lili's eyes shot open. He can't do that! I won't burden him that way! He loves his work, and he needs the income. But all she could get out was, "Nooooo! Furrrwrk immper."
Marco stroked her hand. "We'll talk about it later. Rest now."
Lili tried to settle down, but she was restless. Her head ached, even with her eyes closed. She felt Marco's hand wrapping around hers. She lay quiet, unwilling to complain. What was the use? She wasn't sure what hurt more, her head or the knowledge that her son thought she was useless.
Soon she felt a surge of warmth in her arm, some medication flowing into her. The pain gradually eased, and she drifted off to sleep.
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Johnny sighed heavily as he guided a spoonful of raspberry sherbet to his mouth. He felt lousy. He wanted to visit Roy. He'd caught a quick glimpse of him the day of the quake when Roy was rushed in and taken to surgery, but he'd been working and couldn't really spend time with him. And now he had scarlet fever, and he was still contagious. Roy didn't need his germs. Earlier today, he'd suggested to Dixie that he could just wear a mask and wash his hands real good and then go to see Roy, but she'd nixed that.
Arms crossed over her chest, she'd glared at him. "John Gage, you're still sick and you're very contagious. You need to rest so you can heal. Give the antibiotics time to work. By this time tomorrow, if you're feeling better, you can visit Roy. But right now, you stay in that bed, or I'll sic Sharon Walters on you."
He groaned. "Way to kick a man when he's down, Dix."
Her tone softened. "I'm sorry, Johnny. I wish you could go see Roy right now. He could use a friendly face. I'm headed up to his room next, so I can take him a message if you like."
"Fine," Johnny mumbled. "Tell him… tell him to hang in there." It wasn't much of a message, but his mind was pretty muddled, and his head was pounding. "Tell him… tell him I'm here for him, whatever he needs… or will be, as soon as you let me. An' tell Chet…" He didn't remember finishing the thought. He'd been fighting sleep pretty hard at that point, and it finally overpowered him. When he woke up he was alone in his room. The temptation to get up and go find Roy was powerful, but Dixie was right. Roy didn't need scarlet fever on top of everything else. Neither did Chet. Tomorrow, Johnny wouldn't be contagious anymore. Tomorrow, he would visit his friends.
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"I'm not hungry!" Roy shoved his tray away. He really wanted to throw it after the nurse as she retreated, but that would just get him in trouble with Dixie, and he wasn't quite brave enough for that. Apparently, all anyone at this hospital wanted to do was see him eat. He didn't want to eat, and bland mashed potatoes, lousy hospital peas, and mystery meat weren't about to improve his appetite. He was desperate to get out of this bed and out of this hospital, but he still couldn't move or feel anything below his waist. Even if he could, he had a broken leg and a cast that ran from his upper thigh to his foot. Oh, and he was in traction. He wasn't going anywhere.
He hated hospitals. More accurately, he hated being a patient in a hospital. He blinked hard, mustering up paramedic mode. Keep the patient calm by staying calm yourself. If you panic, the patient will lose hope. But he was the patient. And he had already lost hope. Still, he had to put on a brave face for JoAnne. She was coming because nothing was bad enough to stop her loving him. At least, that's what she said. She hadn't seen him like this yet. Accusing thoughts chewed away at Roy's gut. Jo didn't sign up for this. What kind of a husband can I be now? What kind of a father can I be? It's too much. I should've told her to stay with her mother. She'll regret coming back to me.
He blinked away his emotions and set his mouth in a firm line. He wouldn't let Jo see what he was feeling. He couldn't. She needed to make decisions based on facts, not emotions.
"Hey, Buster." Dixie. She came in and sat down next to Roy's bed. She reached for his tray of food and set it in front of him. He glared at her. Her eyes narrowed. "Don't you look at me like that, Roy DeSoto. I'm going to sit here until you've eaten your lunch. Johnny asked me to give you a message, since he's still contagious and can't come yet. He says you'd better hang in there and that he's going to be there for you, whatever you need. And now, I'm going to talk some sense into you while you're eating."
Roy picked up his fork and grudgingly took a bite of mystery meat.
"Now you listen to me, young man." Dixie's voice was firm, but her gaze was warm, even tender. "I see what you're doing. You haven't shed a tear since you got the news about your mother. You're trying to be strong, to hide all the emotions that I know are tearing you up inside."
She reached for his hand. He pulled away, stabbing at a shriveled pea with his fork. He hated peas. He ate it anyway. "What if Jo doesn't want me anymore?" His voice cracked. Paramedic mode was failing him. He felt the tears gathering and tried to blink them back. "Dammit, Dix. I need my wife. I need my mom. I can't do this without them."
And suddenly there she was. JoAnne, sitting on the edge of his bed, pulling him into her arms and holding him close while he sobbed. "I'm here, honey. I want you. I love you. I need you. Whatever happens, I'll be here." Her lips found his.
And Roy didn't even notice when Dixie slipped out of the room.