“Okay. I’ll be back in a few hours. Please contact me immediately if there’s any problem.”
“I’ll do that.”
Soon Dana was on her way to the Zurich Waldorf International Hotel and Towers, which was owned by the Lamports. On her way there, she called Robert’s parents for the second time in two days to apprise them of the situation. As she expected, Reba wanted to take the next flight over to Switzerland. Dana discouraged her.
“It’s not necessary yet,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck. “The doctor told me that his condition is stable. I’m just going to the hotel to shower and change then I’ll be returning to the hospital. They told me that he’s expected to be out of the coma in a couple of hours. I want to be there when that happens. I’ll keep you updated.”
When Dana got to the hotel, she barely had time to shower and change into a white blouse and dark blue jeans when Barbara appeared at the hotel door.
“Hi there. Come on in,” she said as she eyed her sister’s laboring gait. In spite of the situation, she gave a small chuckle. “You look so adorable with the little waddle you got going on there.”
“You can laugh now but as I recall you had more than a little waddle with those three long-legged kids fighting for space in your tummy.”
Dana gave a bark of laughter.
“That’s what I get for teasing a woman in her third trimester. I’m surprised that William let you travel knowing how protective he is of his wife,” Dana gently teased as she led the way into the bedroom.
“Don’t worry he’s got the pilot on permanent standby. I don’t think the poor man’s allowed to go to the bathroom just in case I have to be rushed back to England,” Barbara replied.
“There are hospitals here you know. If anything happens I mean,” Dana said taking a seat at the vanity table and running a comb through her hair.
Barbara took a seat on the edge of the large bed.
“Yeah, but suppose, heaven forbid, I go into labor prematurely. William will issue specific instructions to junior to stay inside until the jet lands on British soil. Lord William Lamport doesn’t want any issues with his son’s nationality, thank you very much.”
“So it’s confirmed then? It’s a boy.”
Barbara nodded.
“Yes, he’s the next William Lamport, God willing. Once we learned it was a boy it was pretty much a cut and dry decision. I looked at William and asked, 'Fourth'? He said, ‘Absolutely, sweetheart,’” Barbara said, mimicking William’s upper-class British lilt.
They laughed.
“Well, at least you didn’t have to spend months poring over names for your offspring like I did,” Dana said.
Barbara tilted her head to one side.
“You spent months poring over names. I was so sure you opened the baby book at ‘A’ and chose the first three names you saw there.”
“Ha. Ha. Funny,” Dana said drolly.
Barbara started laughing then suddenly went still and covered her stomach with a hand.
“What is it,” Dana asked anxiously.
Barbara smiled. “He’s moving around in there. Look.”
She removed her hand and Dana watched in fascination as Barbara’s stomach came alive under the powder blue sweater she wore.
Dana got up to sit beside Barbara and placed her hand over her sister’s pregnant belly.
“Wow, he’s an active little fellow,” she said.
Barbara nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, I fully expect him to be a sports enthusiast like his dad. He may very well be attempting to play polo in there.”
They both chuckled, and then there was silence for a few moments.
Barbara asked, “So, has there been any more news about Robert?”
“Dr. Dubel told me there’s been no swelling in his brain and he’s recovering. I guess the only question now is the one no one wants to think about.” Brain damage was on her mind but she didn’t want to even introduce that word into the atmosphere.
Dana glanced at her watch then braced her hands on the bed and stood. “I’ve got to go.”
Barbara walked with her to the elevator.
“How’re you coping with the press?”
“Thanks to William, the security detail is doing a great job of keeping them away from me.”
“Maybe you should put out a statement. In my experience that’s the best way to handle things or they will just keep coming at you.”
Dana nodded in agreement. “I’ve thought of that. I’ll let Bobby’s publicist put out a statement once he wakes and we know exactly what’s happening.”
“Okay. See you later.” They hugged and parted ways.
~*~*~*~
“Hello, Dana.”
“Dr. Dubel. What’s going on?”
She couldn’t keep the concern from her voice because when she had rounded the corner to the entrance of the NICU Dr. Dubel and two other doctors were in deep conversation. She assumed they were doctors because they wore white coats and stethoscopes were around their necks.
Dubel steered her a short distance away from the huddled twosome.
“Has there been some change in Bobby’s condition?” Dana asked.
“Not exactly.”
“What exactly,” she bit out. She was losing patience fast.
“The swelling has not recurred but he hasn’t fully regained his state of consciousness. He’s what we refer to as minimally conscious.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means he’s not fully alert. We can only test him when he’s achieved greater levels of consciousness.”
“When is that expected to happen?”
“It’s hard to say. We’ll give it a few more hours at least.”
“Can I see him?”
“Yes, but only for a few minutes and I don’t want you to try to engage him.”
The visit was brief. Robert’s eyes were barely opened but Dana noticed that the oxygen mask was gone. She dared to touch his face this time. She ran her hand over his beard and leaned over and kissed his cheek.
“Oh God,” she whispered. “Please restore him.”
She felt Robert stir but his eyes didn’t fully open. She squeezed his hand.
“I love you, Bobby,” she whispered and after a few more minutes spent staring lovingly at him, she reluctantly left the room.
~*~*~*~
Two days later, Dana sat opposite Dr. Dubel discussing Robert’s condition. She had hardly spent time with Robert. Since he had come out of the coma he had been barely conscious and her visits had been very brief.
“How is he?” she asked Dubel.
“He has been alert enough today for us to begin to expose him to a series of stimuli. The results have been promising. He knows where sounds and visual stimulation are coming from. He seems a little confused but that’s normal. He has no recollection of the accident or even the film he was making but again that’s normal in these circumstances.”
“Can I see him now?”
“Yes, but, Dana, please understand that the Robert you meet in there may be different from the one you knew.”
“What are you talking about?” Panic began to build in her bowels.
“Neurosurgery can cause problems with thoughts, feelings and behaviors. We don’t know what we’ll find. Robert’s just undergone major surgery and he’s been drugged. He is a little disoriented but look for anything that’s glaringly out of the ordinary.”
“Like what?”
“You’ll know it if you see it.”
~*~*~*~
When Dana entered the room, Robert was sitting up in bed. He looked like a lost little boy and her heart went out to him, but she restrained herself from rushing over to him because of Dr. Dubel’s advice.
“Bobby,” she whispered and his brown eyes met hers.
He blinked a few times but said nothing.
She advanced. “Bobby. How are you feeling?”
After several moments he said slowly, “As if…�
� his voice was raspy. He stopped to clear his throat. “As if…I was hit by a truck.”
That was something Robert would say. She smiled at him in relief and rested her hand lightly on the bed rail.
“Do you remember what happened?”
His brow furrowed. “Huh?”
She repeated, “Do you remember what happened?”
“No.”
“Did the doctor tell you what happened?” she asked. There was something that bothered her. Something she couldn’t quite put a finger on.
“He said…I had an accident…and had surgery…on my brain.”
He paused and stared at nothing for an overlong moment. When his gaze returned, he almost seemed surprised to see her there.
“Is my family…here?”
She moved a few inches closer to him. She wanted to touch him so badly. She wanted to cradle him to her bosom and soothe away all his concerns.
“Your parents wanted to be here but I encouraged them to wait and find out how long you’ll need to be here.”
“You? Are you…a doctor?” he asked as he scratched his beard.
The blood drained from Dana’s face. She braced herself against Robert’s bedrail as her legs threatened to give way.
“Bobby, that’s not funny,” she strangled out around the lump in her throat.
“Funny?”
“Bobby…you know who I am, right?” She could hear the panic in her voice even though it sounded like it was coming from far away.
“Should I?” He squinted at her like he was trying to place her.
It felt as though cold fingers were walking up and down Dana’s spine. No, it wasn’t possible! It couldn’t be possible! Suddenly it dawned on her what the niggling issue was. It was the lack of emotion or warmth in Robert’s voice as he addressed her. His eyes were dispassionate, as though he was speaking to a stranger.
But she had to know. She had to know for sure.
“Bobby,” she asked slowly, carefully, pleadingly, as she moved closer and stared deep into his eyes. “Look at me, Bobby. You do remember me, don’t you?”
He groaned lightly and gingerly rubbed his forehead.
“No…my head hurts…get the nurse…I need something…for this pain.”
Chapter 12
Marc Dubel watched Dana Dickson continue to pace. He put out a hand to stop her but quickly withdrew it. It went against everything that he had been taught in medical school. Doctors were to remain detached, not get emotionally entangled with the lives of their patients, far less their beautiful spouses.
She rounded on him mid-stride.
“Why didn’t you tell me this was a possibility? Why did you let me go in there unprepared for something like this?”
“There are so many possibilities with brain injury there was no way I could prepare you for each individual one. Dana, listen to me. It’s not the end of the world,” he said quickly.
Her mouth dropped open. For a few seconds, she watched him in stunned silence and then became quite animated.
“Not the end of the world? My husband doesn’t know who I am. The man I have been married to for almost eleven years of my life doesn’t remember me, and you say it’s not the end of the world!”
“Short-term memory loss is not uncommon in his situation,” he said soothingly as he attempted to placate her.
“Short-term memory loss?” she gave an incredulous bark of laughter. “Robert Cortelli and I have been married for almost eleven years. He’s thirty-six. That’s almost a third of his life. If he can’t remember a third of his life, Doctor, I’d say that this is more than short-term memory loss we’re dealing with here!”
Dr. Dubel could see that Dana was near to hysterics. He wondered briefly if it would be a good time to offer her a sedative.
“Short-term refers to how long the memory loss could last, not how far back it goes.”
This silenced her for a moment.
“Did you ask him about your children?” he continued. “Anything else in his life he might have remembered?”
“Ask him about our children? Are you suggesting that he may remember our children but not me?!” she exploded. “What kind of bizarre, alternate universe would this be if he remembers our kids but not the woman who gave birth to them? I’d say it is a given he doesn’t remember them either.”
And with that last sentence Dana’s hand flew to her mouth and she gasped for air. “Robert doesn’t remember our kids.” The last word ended in a sob.
Dr. Dubel rose to take her in his arms. Before he could reach for her, she collapsed against his chest and clung to the lapels of his white coat. His arms came around her. Yes, it was contrary to any standard of behavior in his profession but his heart just went out to this impossibly beautiful woman. She sobbed against his shirt. He allowed her to cry as he led her to the sofa in the private waiting area he had taken her after she’d plodded out of Robert Cortelli’s room looking as though she’d seen a ghost.
The tears went on for several minutes. During that time, he said absolutely nothing. Dana held on to him and cried until it seemed she had no tears left.
Eventually, she pushed away from him.
“Sorry about that,” she sniffed. “Now I’ve got your shirt all damp.”
He smiled. “I don’t mind in the least. A damp shirt is nothing compared to what you’re going through.”
He watched her wipe her eyes for a minute.
“How could this happen to me. What have I done to deserve this?”
“I’d say it happened more to Robert than to you,” he observed wryly, attempting light-heartedness.
“Of course! I’m not implying…I must sound so insensitive and self-centered but…”
“I know. There’s no need to explain. I understand. Listen, I need you to do something that may be difficult.”
“What is it?”
“Tomorrow I’d like you to question him a little more to see what he remembers and to find out how far back the memory loss goes.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and then after several moments gave a short, decisive nod.
“Okay.”
“There’s another thing.”
She looked at him wearily.
“I don’t want you to tell him you’re his wife – not yet anyway – I don’t want you to say anything to him that might be a shock to his system. Remember that his brain is still very fragile. He has undergone significant trauma to the brain not only from the fall but also from the surgery. He’s not himself. At this stage, he may be easily confused and agitated. He may overreact to certain things and become physically aggressive. He’ll need to adjust to the news that he’s married and has three children. However, I’d prefer that conversation to come when the recovery process has well begun in about two or three weeks. Do you think you can do that for me?”
He placed his hand over hers and stared at her like a patient father even though he was only a few years older than she was.
“I don’t know.”
“You need to do this, Dana.”
She took in a deep, shaky breath. “Okay, I’ll try.”
“Good. You also need to be aware that we will be carrying out many routine tests to see what Robert’s capabilities are at this point and how far he has recovered and the areas we may need to work on. So don’t be concerned if your visiting time is reduced considerably over the next several days because we’ll be working with him.”
“What type of tests?”
“We’ll have a variety of auxiliary medical people who will check him. A physical therapist will see how well he is able to move around, walk, climb stairs, and so forth. His balance and strength will also be tested. Then, there will be occupational therapists who will examine how well he is able to perform daily activities such as getting dressed, using the toilet, getting in and out of the shower. Since his profession demands certain skills, they will also test his vision and reasoning capacity, and his ability to read. It’s not expected that things like memorizing
lines will be possible for the next couple of months. I don’t think he’ll be able to even concentrate on reading the newspaper right now. If we find that there are any problems with his speech, language or thinking skills we’ll have the speech-language pathologist assess him.”
Dana took a shaky breath and said in a tremulous voice, “All of that. My goodness this really is serious isn’t it?”
“Dana, the tests are routine. We may find that there’s little to fix. The thing about the human body is its remarkable ability to heal itself. No matter what we find, our purpose remains the same, which is to help prepare Robert to leave the hospital. We don’t want him to be here longer than he needs to be, but at the same time we want him to be ready when he does leave.”
Dana covered her face with her hands for a moment as she seemed to ingest all that he had said. Finally, she lowered her hands and met his gaze.
“Okay. Just remind me what you need me to do.”
~*~*~*~
“I love you guys and your dad does too.”
“Love you too, Mommy,” chimed the terrific trio, Dana’s term for the kids.
As Dana disconnected the call she muttered to herself, “I know he does. Deep down in there he does. He just has to remember.”
She placed the phone on the table and resumed picking at her food. She sat in the hospital cafeteria trying to take in a little breakfast before her visit with Robert. The visit was always heartbreaking because she was still fighting hard to come to terms with the fact that he didn’t remember who she was. It did help that she noticed he had grown pleased to see her. But that could be attributed to the fact that she was really his only visitor aside from the medical personnel.
Marc Dubel’s appearance next to her roused her out of her reverie.
“May I sit with you,” he asked.
“Sure.” She transferred her bag from the seat he was standing beside to the one on her other side.
Second Chance: A Christian Romance (Royals Book 2) Page 13