Michael had been at the top of his class from first grade to last. He won every award in school, and lorded it over his younger twin whenever he could, usually out of earshot of their parents. Peter reported it to them frequently, and when they didn’t believe him, he took care of it himself. He grew taller than Michael as he got older, and had beaten him up more than once, which inevitably got him punished too. It had been a relief to their father when he finally left home. He couldn’t stand the fighting anymore. Their mother insisted that underneath it all, Peter was a good boy, but given his obstreperous, rebellious nature, and the physical fights with his twin and the boys in school, by the end of high school, there was no one who believed in Peter’s good heart except his mother. Michael was so much easier to love.
And he stayed close to them once he grew up. Although he loved his work as an anesthesiologist in Boston, Michael couldn’t wait to come back to Ware once his father invited him into his practice. He had abandoned his dreams to come home. And once there, he loved working in a small town, and having patients who truly depended on him. And he had loved sharing an office with his father. He always said it was what he had always hoped for. Dr. Pat, his father, had quickly observed Michael’s talent with the elderly, and had passed on all his geriatric patients to him. They all adored young Dr. Mike even more than his father. He had a compassionate nature and made the transition into the next world easier for them, and their loved ones. Everyone felt safer with Dr. Mike around. Not only did he live by his Hippocratic oath to do no harm, he did more good than any doctor they had ever known, even his father, who had gotten a little cantankerous and less patient as he got old. Michael was infinitely patient, endlessly caring, a skilled doctor, and beloved by all.
Michael pulled into his driveway just after eight o’clock. He was living in the home that had been his parents’, and had moved into it fifteen years before, when his mother died, and she left it to him. It was a big, rambling old house, and had been wonderful for him and Maggie and their children. Bill had been seven when they moved in, and Lisa a year old.
Michael had married Maggie twenty-three years before. They had known each other growing up, though he hadn’t paid much attention to her, she’d been closer to Peter. But a skating accident she had at twenty brought them together. She had been in a coma for several months. He’d been in medical school then, and once she began to recover, he had visited her whenever he came home. He evidenced deep concern for her and surprised everyone when he married her a year later, despite her fragile health. It contributed even further to people’s high opinion of him, and still did. After her accident, Maggie had been an invalid for all of their married life. Michael had kept her alive, and they were grateful to have been blessed with two children.
A third baby had been conceived two years after Lisa, their second-born, but Maggie was so frail by then that Michael had insisted that she have a medically recommended abortion. They had two healthy children, miraculously, and he told her he didn’t want to lose the wife he adored to a third. He was certain she wasn’t strong enough to carry another child to term. And she had been heartbroken, but agreed. She trusted Michael implicitly with her medical treatment. She had total faith that he always knew what was best for her. When their children had been born, he had cared for her during her pregnancies, and only brought an obstetrician in to assist at the delivery. He didn’t trust anyone with her care except himself. She knew that no one loved her as he did, or knew her as well.
Michael had kept her alive despite the catastrophic effects of her accident. Maggie was only twenty then, and a talented ice skater. She had been skating with friends on the pond when a piece of bark frozen in the ice had caught the picks on her figure skates. She had gone flying, and landed backward on her head. She had fractured her skull, and seeing her unconscious on the ice, everyone thought she was dead. She was airlifted to Boston, and lay in a coma for five months. She had surgery to relieve the pressure on her brain, and the doctors had been unable to predict how severe the consequences would be if she survived. Her parents had been overwhelmed with gratitude when she came out of the coma. She was their only child, and they doted on her.
Her mother had nursed her back to health, and worked hard on her rehabilitation with her. Maggie had been unable to walk at first, and eventually therapists got her walking again, although unsteadily, and stiff legged on one side. Although young and beautiful, she walked like someone who had had a stroke, but she was back on her feet. Her dream had been to walk and dance and wear high heels again, but that was not to be. She was able to walk, but never steadily, and frequently her bad leg gave out. She was good humored and brave about it, but frustrated that she was never able to progress further than that.
And the other most noticeable effect of the accident was slurred speech for a long time. She had had to learn to talk all over again, as well as walk. Her speech finally recovered, but her leg never did. She was a beautiful girl, just as she had been before the accident. But at first she had difficultly speaking, and remembering words sometimes. It made people think that she was slow of mind now as well as speech, which was not the case, but it seemed that way.
And friends who felt sorry for her and were busy with their own activities visited her less and less. It was Michael who came to visit her regularly once she came home from the hospital, and began to realize what a remarkable young woman she was. He brought her books and magazines and little gifts. He always comforted her about her condition, and praised her for her progress. He took her out walking sometimes, and held her arm in his firm, steady grip. And he reassured her about her nerves. He told her that she would always be delicate now, and easy prey for infections and diseases since her system had been so weakened. His greatest concern was for some kind of paralysis to set in later, and he insisted that it was best for her to stay away from people and not to risk infection that could cost her her life.
He kept her company at home when no one else would. Michael made her feel protected. He didn’t care how awkward her speech was, or how unsteady she was on her feet. He was there for her whenever he could be, despite the demands of medical school. And he was an extraordinary support and solace to her when her mother died in a car crash the year after Maggie’s accident. It was a devastating loss to her and her father, and Michael impressed everyone shortly after when he proposed. It was obvious to everyone that Maggie would always be frail. Maggie herself had been convinced that no man would ever want her now, with her clumsy speech and awkward gait. Instead Michael made her feel like the most loved woman alive, and she felt so lucky to have him. Her father had been enormously relieved as well. He had been even more worried about Maggie now that her mother was gone. He had been busy with his lumber mill, and didn’t have time to take care of her. He knew Michael always would. It was an enormous comfort to him. He couldn’t wish for better for his injured daughter than to be married to a devoted doctor.
Michael and Maggie were married in a small private ceremony. She didn’t want a big wedding since she couldn’t glide smoothly down the aisle. She was afraid she might stumble or fall, and she was afraid that she might stammer or slur when she spoke up to say her vows. Michael didn’t mind the small ceremony, nor having a handicapped wife. Her own doctor, who had seen her through the aftereffects of the accident, in Boston, said she was entirely normal, except for the awkward gait, and he felt sure that with speech therapy, she would speak more easily in time. He thought her leg would improve as well. He didn’t agree with Michael about her potential fragility, and said those were the anxious words of a young doctor in love. He thought Michael worried too much about her and treated her like a porcelain doll.
But Michael wasn’t proven wrong about Maggie being frail. She fell prey to severe flus every winter, and had pneumonia several times, so severely that Michael had hospitalized her and was afraid for her life. When she recovered, he urged her not to leave the house for several months. He didn’t want her exposed to random germs that put her a
t high risk. They had been living in an apartment in Boston then, while he finished medical school, and he had personally put her on bed rest when she was pregnant with their first child. She didn’t see an obstetrician, or need any other doctor, Michael took better care of her than anyone else. But the long months in bed made her legs weaker, more unsteady, and she could hardly walk after she gave birth, and to keep her from falling and injuring herself, she was in a wheelchair for several months. It was a small price to pay for the handsome baby boy they named William. She was only sorry that Michael felt she was too weak to nurse, and they took turns giving him bottles whenever Michael was home. He was a strapping, handsome little boy.
While Michael did his residency in anesthesiology, Maggie managed fairly well. She was walking better again, although it was hard for her to care for the toddler, and she was always relieved when Michael came home to keep him from getting hurt. He worried a lot about Maggie’s nerves. He reluctantly admitted to her that after a head injury like the one she had sustained, she was far more at risk for a stroke or cerebral hemorrhage at any age. The thought of that happening while she was caring for their baby terrified Maggie, and they hired a babysitter to keep him safe and so she could rest more. She missed going to the park with Billy, but she was always waiting with open arms when he came home. He was the joy of her life, as was his father.
Everything became simpler for them when Michael’s father invited him to join his practice, and they moved back to Ware. She easily found young girls to help her there. When Maggie got pregnant with Lisa, Michael put her on bed rest again, this time for eight months. It weakened her considerably, but once again the delivery was easy, and the baby a healthy little girl. And after eight months on bed rest, Maggie was weak and fell in their bedroom after the birth. Michael insisted that she use a walker after that, which embarrassed her, but he was adamant that he didn’t want her seriously injured, or to hit her head again. He was convinced that she wouldn’t survive it a second time. And a year after Lisa was born, his parents died, and they moved into their house. The only problem was that there were several flights of stairs, which made it hard for Maggie to get around. She was absolutely forbidden to negotiate the stairs on her own. Michael brought her downstairs in the evening when he got home, and gently laid her on the couch where he could keep an eye on her, but he didn’t want her wandering the house, on any floor, while he was gone. It limited her activities considerably, and it drove her crazy listening to her children playing downstairs with the babysitter, and she couldn’t go down to join in the fun. She had to wait for them to visit her, or until Michael came home and carried her downstairs to the living room.
Several times she suggested that they buy a house all on one level, so she could get around with the walker, but Michael looked heartbroken at the thought of selling his parents’ house. She didn’t have the heart to do that to him, after all that he had done for her. He had given up his life, except for working as a doctor, to care for her in every possible way. It was why she had listened to him yet again when he insisted that she abort their third child. She trusted him implicitly. Michael was always right when it came to her health. And he was right too that she would grow weaker over the years. Michael had said it early on, and it appeared to be inevitable.
In recent years, her father’s death had come as a great shock and source of grief to her, as had their son Bill moving to London to go to school several years before. He was twenty-two now and she missed him terribly. He almost never came home, although they called each other often and communicated by e-mail. Michael worried that the shocks she had sustained had once again impacted her health, which had deteriorated noticeably in the last two years.
Their daughter Lisa was their pride and joy. She wanted to be a doctor like her father, and she was a very efficient nurse whenever Maggie felt weaker than usual, or particularly ill. Her health had been on a slow downhill slide for years, and it was beginning to seem miraculous to all of them that she was still alive at forty-four. She had survived the accident that happened twenty-four years earlier, but just as Michael had said it would, her health had grown markedly worse over time. She had recently been diagnosed with Parkinson’s, which was a source of great concern to Michael. He tried not to worry her, or alarm her, but she could always see in his eyes how concerned he was about her.
He was a devoted, adoring husband, and she was immeasurably grateful for his lavish kindness, their children, and the life they shared. She felt guilty frequently for how little she could do for them. She was trapped in her bedroom most of the time, a prisoner of her own body. As the Parkinson’s progressed, she could hardly walk anymore, and never without a walker. Michael preferred her moving around in a wheelchair so she wouldn’t fall and hit her head again. He did everything possible to protect her. And Maggie felt useless a great deal of the time.
Without question, Maggie’s children were the greatest source of joy to her, and Lisa was tireless in the help she provided her mother. And in spite of her infirmities, Maggie had managed to derive joy from other things as well. She was by nature a cheerful, optimistic person, although with Michael’s constant warnings, she had grown more fearful about her health over the years. And she hated the idea that one day she would leave Michael and her children, long before she was ready to do so. She tried not to think of it too much, but the specter of her failing health and what it could mean to all of them was ever present.
Instead of dwelling on it, thanks to a Christmas gift from her son Bill, she distracted herself with the Internet and had become addicted to it. It was Maggie’s magic carpet to the outside world. Michael complained that it exhausted her, and confused her with unreliable facts from medical websites, but with Bill’s wonderful gift of a laptop computer, she could shop for Lisa on eBay, write e-mails to Bill in London whenever she chose, and learn fascinating facts about history, art, and the travel she would never be able to do. The Internet had given her access to a whole new world. She stayed abreast of all the news happening around the globe, and was well informed on many subjects. Sometimes Michael burst out laughing when he got home and she announced some obscure world event, or fact about something he had never thought about and had no need to know. She was insatiable in her passion for information and knowledge. Maggie entered chat rooms occasionally, corresponded with people she had never met and wouldn’t have otherwise, and looked up old friends on Facebook, although she herself wasn’t listed there.
And once in a while, although she rarely admitted it to him, she Googled articles and medical data about her health in order to learn more about her ailments, since Michael sometimes kept harsh facts from her to protect her, although she could always see his deep worry for her in his eyes. And most recently she’d been reading about Parkinson’s, since Michael had diagnosed her with it two years before. She knew that Michael was always the best judge of what was good for her, but she liked to be informed about her health, and she constantly learned new things on the Internet. But she never wanted Michael to feel that she questioned his medical opinions, so she almost never mentioned the medical research she did. He was so devoted to her that she didn’t want to upset him. And he said that a lot of medical data on the Internet was inaccurate. But she found it interesting anyway. She had a voracious appetite for information.
Recently, she had corresponded with a woman she’d “met” in a chat room for shut-ins. They were exactly the same age, although Maggie had been housebound for longer. Her new friend had been in a wheelchair for ten years after a car accident. And they had exchanged information about Parkinson’s when they discovered they both had it. And Maggie had been somewhat relieved to discover that her symptoms seemed less acute than her correspondent’s, although she didn’t say that to her. She seemed like a nice woman, and they corresponded several times a week. Michael frequently expressed concern that she could be victimized by dangerous people preying on her through the Internet, but Maggie didn’t worry about it. She had fun talking to people in
chat rooms.
Most of all, Maggie enjoyed the freedom that the Internet gave her, and sometimes she stayed glued to it all day, learning new things, and reading about subjects that fascinated her. Michael had been annoyed about it at first, and had scolded Bill for giving his mother a gift that would exhaust her. Bill had ferociously defended his mother’s right to explore the Internet, and Michael knew he had lost the battle. Maggie loved everything about it, and the doors it opened to her. She had became a master at home shopping, and had redecorated their dining room at IKEA two years before, without ever leaving her bed.
Most of all, it was fun for her, and had been a precious gift from her son that she cherished. She sent him several e-mails a day, which he responded to from his BlackBerry. He had promised that that would be his next gift to her, whenever he came home, although he had no plans to do so at the moment. She missed him terribly, but she tried to sound cheerful whenever she reported on things at home. And she never complained about her health. She didn’t want to upset her son, and kept her reports from home upbeat.
Recently, she had even started watching movies on her computer. Sometimes she got Lisa to sit in bed and watch them with her, when she didn’t have homework to do. Her computer had become the most important possession in Maggie’s life. It provided information, escape, entertainment, and knowledge. It was perfect for someone who spent most of her life in bed. The Internet had added a whole new dimension to her life.
And the other great blessing in her life was Prudence Walker, who came three times a week to clean their house, and make lunch for Maggie when Lisa couldn’t get back from school, and Michael was too busy with patients. Pru was nearly seventy, had raised six children, and had boundless energy, although she thought that Maggie’s fascination with the Internet was a little strange and possibly even dangerous. She didn’t even have a microwave in her house, and felt sure that spending so much time on the computer would end up giving Maggie some terrible disease that would be the end of her. She had warned her of it often. But other than that, the two women saw eye to eye on most things, and Prudence was very fond of Michael, whose father had delivered all six of her children.
Prodigal Son: A Novel Page 6