The Gift
Chapter 27

Time seems to pass in light and dark segments. Not night and day, more like consciousness and unconsciousness. Unable to do anything about it, I simply go with it.

I’m finally able to open my eyes again and I wonder if the haze is ever going to lift when I hear a beep and look up slightly and see a monitor. I realize it must be night and not the haze, but why am I on a monitor?

Trying to sit up I find I don’t have the strength to, so I try to raise the head of my bed. Figuring my right side will hurt I use my left hand – or try to. It refuses to move.

I try to watch my language, but what the hell? Taking inventory of my body, I find that I can’t move my left foot either. Risking pain and I try moving my right arm to the bedrail where the bed’s controls are and am rewarded with a stab of pain and let out a moan.

Ignoring the pain the best I can, I inch my arm out until my finger finds the button and I raise myself into a sitting position.

A light pops on and I see my mom sitting in my chair beside the bed. “What’s going on?” I ask but it only makes sense in my head. What comes out of my mouth is, well, incomprehensible.

“Please honey, relax. I’ll try to explain everything to you.”

I nod my head.

“Apparently you fell and when you did, you hit your shoulder. Everything came back okay, however, it appears that a small blood clot formed near the insertion site of your central line and it came loose, causing you to have a minor stroke. Until you woke up, no one was sure what the extent of it would be.

“Thanks to Ben, they gave you something to dissolve the clot right away but…”

Ignoring the pain, I pick up my arm and point to my left side.

“The doctor told me there were several possibilities. Left side paralysis, loss of speech, loss of vision, and well, worse. He also said that the length depends on the damage. It might go away on its own in a few days or you might have to… relearn things. Speech, how to use your arm and leg again, things like that. But don’t get upset. All they could give me was general answers,” she says, getting up. “Until you came to again and they could check you, they couldn’t know. Not that you’re up, I’ll get them to check you out so we can get some answers.”

I want her to stay but I can’t do anything to stop her. I’m not sure how much time goes by when a doctor comes in to examine me.

He tells me he is a neurologist, and he examines me, asking me to move things, talk, push and pull finger, press and flex my feet, blink, smile, frown, and a bunch of other stuff. I did everything he asks, all the while hearing my mother who didn’t come back in, sob out in the hall outside my room.

He tells me the obvious. The movement in my left has been affected as well as my speech.

Thankfully, I’m right-handed and they would bring me paper and a pen so I could write my questions and needs down. Tomorrow they would to more tests but I’m young and these things usually are temporary so we will give it time and see. Until then, get some rest.

He leaves and a few minutes later my mom comes back in. She had stopped crying but it still showed.

A nurse brought in a pen and a pad of paper and told me to get some rest. I immediately wrote: “Go home. There’s nothing you can do here. Tell dad I’m okay.

She shakes her head no, but I pointed at the door and added: Get sleep/ Come back after rest then. I’m going to sleep anyways – you don’t have to watch me do that. Bring my phone back when you come.

I could see she wanted to ask why but didn’t. Pointing at the door again I say, “Go,” but it comes out, “Goo.”

Mom shakes he head again, and I pull out the light cord until it is dark and turn my head away from her.

It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, but it was for her own good. A tear rolls from my eye, up and over my nose and falls off as I lay there.

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