Code blue, p.3
Code Blue, page 3
“Thank you,” he said, smiling at her a little, despite how panicked he felt. “I will take the phone call in my office, just give me a few minutes.”
With that, he turned around and power walked past the lobby and up the stairs, all the way to his office.
***
“Hello?”
“Hello,” the person on the line said. “My name is Rita, and I’m here with Miss Parker. I’ve been her nurse for a while, and today I noticed that her toes were wiggling with some stimuli.”
“Her toes?” he asked. “That could be an involuntary…”
“Dr. Cross,” the woman on the line said, clearly annoyed with him. “I have been a nurse for twenty years. I know when something is an involuntary physical reflex. This wasn’t that. I looked up at her face, and her eyes were fluttering open. I instantly paged my attending, and she came in and performed an evaluation. The patient is awake, Dr. Cross. She isn’t able to speak much yet, but she can answer yes or no questions. She is agitated, so we’ve had to restrain her.”
“I…yeah,” Landon said. He needed time to think about it. This was more than just a little perplexing, it was wild. Of course, he had read about patients that woke up after long comas, but they were outliers. It rarely happened in his experience.
Having Kristen call the Port Smith Clinic had been less than a Hail Mary, it had been mere and entire curiosity. He wanted to help Marie Parker, but he had never thought that he would actually get a chance to. The idea of that was simply preposterous.
“Has she been evaluated by neuro yet?”
“No, Doctor,” Rita replied. “Not yet.”
“Who is it?”
“It’s Dr. Weber,” she said. “I will forward you his information.”
“Thank you, Rita. I appreciate it.”
“The family might get in touch with you about a transfer,” Rita said. “I just wanted to give you a heads-up.”
“I appreciate it,” he said. “Thanks again.”
He hung up the phone and stared at his distorted reflection on the powered off computer monitor in front of him. It was going to be a long, long night.
CHAPTER SIX
MARIE
Marie had expected darkness. She had expected heaven or hell, or something, but she hadn’t expected what she had encountered.
She was on a bed, still, and she felt extremely nauseous. There was a pit in her stomach and her lips were desperately dry. The room she was in was far too bright, and as she opened her eyes, she felt like she couldn’t see anything. After a while, she noticed that her body didn’t necessarily want to listen to her. She tried to get out of the bed, but her legs didn’t move when she tried to move them to the side, and as she tried her best to focus on the ceiling above her, she thought about where she had just been.
There had been a bed, but it wasn’t a bed like this one. She noticed how narrow it was, and as she looked down at her hands, she noticed that they were tied to the railing on the bed. Not just that, but her skin was smooth and her fingernails short and unvarnished. She had never kept her nails like that; always preferring the luxury of a manicure, even when it was inconvenient.
She wiggled her wrist around the zip tie, which was holding her to the bed, trying her best to move her hand out of it. The bed moved under her with her weight, but it was clear that she wasn’t going to be able to free herself.
She knew that she was going to have to ask for help, but as she opened her mouth, she noticed how dry her throat was. Even just peeling her tongue from the roof of her mouth [MOU2]felt like it took a ton of effort.
She looked around for anything that might help her. There was nothing around her except a bare nightstand. There was no calendar, no sign of where she might be.
She took a deep breath and stopped moving. Even just wiggling her body in the bed had been entirely too exhausting, and she was feeling like she needed the world’s longest nap. But she wasn’t going to close her eyes again, because she had no idea where she was going to end up. Marie needed a drink, but she also needed to get up, she needed to relieve herself in a bathroom, she needed to walk around. Her legs felt like they weighed a ton, and she could hardly move her own body. The pain wasn’t overwhelming, but it was enough to make her feel like she wasn’t going to be able to overcome it in order for her to get up and walk.
She sighed. She needed a new plan. She thought about it, her eyes tightly shut for a quick second. Then she heard steps coming toward her, and she instantly turned her head to look at them.
“Miss Parker,” a voice that sounded somewhat familiar said. “You’re awake. Do you need…?”
“Water,” she replied, her throat dry and her voice croaky. She didn’t think that she sounded anything like herself. The sound of her own voice made her shiver.
One of the people around her turned around, walking away from her. She watched as they disappeared out the door and then set her gaze on the balding man with the short white coat who stood right next to her.
“How are you feeling, Miss Parker?”
She wanted to tell him that she felt like she just got run over by a truck, but she didn’t know if she was going to be able to get through the entire sentence. Instead, she closed her eyes and shook her head.
“Are you in pain?”
“Some,” she said.
“Where?” he asked.
She wanted to answer, but with every word she said, she felt like she was fading. And if fading meant waking up in a place like this—but worse, probably worse—again, then she was going to fight it with everything she had.
“Can you tell me where you are, Miss Parker?”
She thought about it for a second. “No,” she replied.
“Do you know what day it is?”
She closed her eyes and sighed.
“Do you know how long you’ve been here?”
She didn’t say anything.
“I’m going to conduct an assessment now,” the doctor said. “And once I’m done with that, if you are feeling up to it, your family will be in to see you. How does that sound?”
She felt a tug at the corner of her mouth, but it was still hard for her to smile.
LANDON
Landon looked at the room which they had made ready for their incoming patient. It was still likely to be a few hours—maybe a few days, if the evaluation was going to take longer than they thought.
Jade swept her long ponytail behind her back and stood next to him. “This patient is going to be interesting.”
“I’m going to do some intake, but I want you to be in charge. I know her, and because of that, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to provide the care that she needs. I don’t mind overseeing the case, but I would rather you take on this one.”
“Sure,” she said. “Whatever you need.”
“You’re right, it is going to be a fascinating case. From what I hear, she’s able to hold a conversation, but she’s still recovering.”
“What about physical effects?”
“She is okay, all things considered. Her muscles are atrophied, and of course, is going to need physical therapy, but she is very lucky in the sense that only her head suffered from the trauma.”
“That is lucky,” Jade said. “Are we going to write a paper about the case?”
It was a perfectly acceptable question. It made sense. It was what people did with cases like this, where they could all learn a bit about the brain, about recovering after a coma, about a ton of things. It was the least they could do to contribute to the medical field, and of course, it was going to be exactly what they needed to finish positioning Silver Garden as a recovery clinic with a huge amount of prestige.
But the idea of it made his head spin, and it made him feel a bit sick to his stomach. Probably because he knew her, and their relationship was bound to make things more complicated.
“If she decides that she’s okay with it, then you can do it. But I don’t want to be involved. There is a conflict of interest,” he said. “Which is why I want you to take charge.”
She nodded. “Of course,” she said. “Do you want me to set up a meeting with Turner and Weber?”
“Yes,” he said after a bit. “I think that might be best.”
“I’ll get right on that,” she said. “And once again, thank you for entrusting me with this. I know this case is very important.”
“It’s okay,” he replied, meeting her gaze. “You are a good doctor, and I trust you. I appreciate everything you are doing. And the room looks good.”
She laughed. “Thanks,” she said. “I will go ahead and tell the nurses you said that.”
He nodded and tried to laugh with her, but the pit in his stomach felt like it was getting worse.
CHAPTER SEVEN
MARIE
Marie looked at her mother, who looked so young. She distinctly remembered going to her mother’s funeral when she was an older woman. She had been buried in her favorite red skirt suit, her hands crossed over her chest, her blonde hair perfectly coiffed in tight curls.
But that wasn’t what she looked like at all. She wore a long, white t-shirt over black leggings. Her hair was up in a high ponytail and she was wearing absolutely no make-up. She held Marie’s hand; her grip so tight, Marie worried she was going to break it.
And all Marie could do was stare at her, thoroughly confused.
“I just can’t believe it,” her mother said, tears in her eyes. “I can’t believe we have our little girl back.”
“Mrs. Harris, you must not misunderstand,” the doctor said quietly to her. “The recovery for Marie is still likely to be long and arduous, but we do believe that it will be possible. That is why we have secured a bed for her at Silver Garden. As a new clinic, they already have a great reputation. We are certain that Marie will be able to recover with the right help, but please, don’t misunderstand. You absolutely need to have Marie complete the entire recovery process.”
“You can talk to me,” Marie said, her voice still croaky. Her throat still felt like it was on fire every time she spoke, but it was getting easier to do it. “I’m right here.”
“Well,” the doctor said, “you must stick with your treatment. You’re going to feel a lot better, pretty soon, and you’re already doing very well, but you might regress. We don’t know. The truth is, we don’t know as much about the brain as we wish we did, and cases like yours are very rare. We are going to want to monitor you very closely.”
“So, you won’t release her to me?”
“Not for a few weeks,” the doctor said to Marie’s mother. “It’s going to take a little while to really evaluate what is happening, and not just neurologically speaking.”
Marie cleared her throat.
“We will release you, but first we have to make sure that you’re ready,” he said, finally looking at her. She didn’t like him at all, and she had no idea what he meant when he said that they had to wait for her to be ready. “It’s going to take a while to recover, but your doctors will evaluate you when you get to Silver Garden, and you will have a better idea of what you need to do in order to go home. Is that clear?”
“Yes,” she replied. Her mother squeezed her hand.
“Let me know if you have any questions, okay?”
Marie blinked, but she didn’t say anything. He walked out, and her mom turned around to look at her. “Do you hear that? You’re going to be able to come home soon.”
“That’s not exactly what he said,” she replied, smiling at her mom. “Mrs. Harris?”
“What? What do you mean, sweetie?”
“Why did the doctor call you that?”
She furrowed her brow as she looked at Marie. “I got married to Carl,” she said. “Remember?”
“No,” Marie said after a bit. She didn’t remember anybody called Carl; she certainly didn’t remember anybody called Carl as her stepdad. “When?”
“When you were nineteen,” her mom replied. “You were a bridesmaid. We went dress shopping in Atlanta? Made it a whole thing, you and your sister and your aunt.”
Marie closed her eyes. “No,” she said. “Sorry, I don’t remember.”
In her mind, she remembered her parents having an anniversary dinner, dancing with each other in the moonlight. Her parents had grown old together. She knew it. She had seen it.
This explanation that she had been in a coma and that she had woken up and everything that she had experienced was in her head, it made absolutely no sense.
She had yet to disclose it to anyone, but she knew it was real. Everything around her felt less real than what her life actually was, and she was certain she was trapped in some sort of waking nightmare, and that was all that was happening.
But this woman, the one sitting next to her, she was certainly convinced that she was Marie’s mother. And Marie wasn’t going to be able to talk her out of it. She didn’t even know if she wanted to talk her out of it. It was nice having her mother back, despite the fact that it felt like this was an imposter.
She swallowed. “What’s Carl like?”
“He’s nice,” her mom said. “He’s outside because we don’t want to overwhelm you with visitors. Do you want to see him?”
“No!” she exclaimed, feeling immediately bad when she saw how stung her mother looked. “Sorry, Mom, I’m not ready yet. I’m not…”
Her mom squeezed her hand. “It’s okay. I understand that it’s going to take time for you to settle back into your life,” she said. “We’re going to be here to support you until you are there.”
She licked her lips and sighed. “Yeah,” she said. “Thanks, Mom.”
And even though the words felt weird in her mouth, maybe if she practiced them enough, they would start sounding right.
LANDON
After they had announced that Marie Parker had been transferred to the clinic, Landon tried his best to stop himself from going to her room. He wanted Jade to take charge as much as she could, and even his presence could undermine her confidence. He only employed four full-time doctors at the clinic, and while Jade was extremely skilled, she was also the youngest of them. She was, of course, entirely qualified. But that didn’t mean that she had that much experience, and while Landon had recruited her to be a part of his team because he knew how bright she was, he was also concerned about how she was going to approach the case.
But it wasn’t as if he could say anything about it, because if he did, she might feel undermined, and that was the last thing that Landon wanted. He knew that she was going to have to build confidence in herself and that he needed to loosen the reins slightly if he wanted to see what she could do.
And he really did want to see what she could do. That, and he wanted his best not to interfere with Marie Parker’s treatment. But he needed to introduce himself, whether he wanted to or not, so he steeled himself before he walked to her room.
He walked over to the room and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” she said.
Her voice was lower than he remembered, but that was probably an effect of her long-term coma.
He opened the door and smiled at her. “Miss Parker,” he said. “My name is Dr. Cross. I’m in charge of this clinic. I know that you’ve already met Dr. Davies. She’s very good, and you probably won’t be seeing much of me. But I still wanted to introduce myself.”
She stared at him for a long time. For a few seconds, he wondered if she could speak at all. She closed her eyes, and he was about to excuse himself and wondered why he had gone in there at all. As soon as he put his hand on the door handle, she opened her eyes again and trained her gaze on him.
“I know you,” she said. “We’ve met before.”
“You remember me?” he asked, a little startled. He had heard that she could hardly remember anything from her own past, though she hadn’t provided any details to anyone yet.
“Yes,” she said. “You’re…my friend had a crush on you.”
He couldn’t help but smile. “Which friend?” he said. “Because I don’t think I know anything about this.”
She furrowed her brow. “I don’t know,” she said. “I can’t remember.”
He nodded. “Well, your doctor…”
“Wait,” she said, and for the first time since he had seen her again, it did sound like she was pleading. He looked at her face and couldn’t help but think about how great she looked; all things considered. Her family had decided to keep her hair short while she was in a coma, so that it was easier to maintain and wouldn’t get in her eyes. It made sense, but he had never seen her with short hair before. They had to shave her head when they had to operate on her brain, and instead of the bright yellow tint of long blonde hair that Landon had known her with before, it had been replaced by a subdued dark blonde. She seemed to have all control over the functions on her face, and the only thing that Landon noticed her struggling with was her voice control. A speech therapist could help with that, but it sounded more as if she just wasn’t used to talking anymore.
“What is it, Miss Parker?”
“I don’t know anyone here,” she said, sounding like she was on the verge of tears. “I don’t know anyone here but you.”
“Miss Parker…”
“Did you always call me that? Because I remember you calling me Marie, but if you didn’t…”
“No,” he replied. “I didn’t always call you that. I used to call you Marie. We do know each other, but we were acquaintances.”
“Yeah,” she said after a bit of thinking. “I think one of my friends might’ve wanted to set us up on a date.”
“I’m surprised that you would remember that.”
He swallowed and he watched as her throat worked.
“I don’t remember a lot of things. I don’t remember my mom getting married; hell, I barely remember my parents getting divorced. Everything feels like it’s been put through this weird filter, and I can’t make sense of it.”
“It can take a little while to adjust, especially after a year in a coma,” he said. “Considering your prognosis, I believe you to be doing remarkably well.”
