I'm Still Here

by Kathryn R. Biel

  That would explain why Rob hadn't liked me.

  "I thought I was over that after Melissa, but I guess I still want to be bossed around."

  "Yeah, Melissa would have turned me off women altogether."

  "I know how you feel about her. I think you'll like this one though. She's different. She has a magnetism about her. You can't help but get entranced by her."

  "Does this mean your rebound player days are over?"

  "O.K., I think that chapter may be closed."

  I got distracted when a few people came up to congratulate me, including Elvis. I had a hard time keeping a straight face while talking to him, but think I managed. Someone bought me a shot. I didn't know how to turn it down. I was never really a big fan of them, so I opened up and downed the shot as quickly as possible. I tried not to immediately throw it back up on that person's shoes.

  O.K. and Rob were behind me. Their friend group had migrated over to join them. I was standing back to back with O.K., while I talked with my new-found friends. Every so often, one of O.K.'s hands would migrate over and goose me. Finally, I was able to excuse myself from the well wishers and return to O.K. and Rob's group. I turned around and put my hands around O.K.'s waist. His hands clasped over mine and pulled me tighter against him.

  "Before you two start doing it in the middle of the bar, I want Esther to meet my date. You'll love her. Here she comes." Rob looked across the crowded room with an expectant puppy-dog look on his face. God, he was already whipped. Anyone could see it.

  O.K. pulled me around so I was standing in front of him. Rob had turned and started walking toward his date.

  "Okay, quick, give me the 4-1-1 on this chick. What's she like?" And of course, by that I meant, "What does she have that I don't?"

  O.K. shrugged. "I dunno. She seemed alright. She's pretty. She seemed pretty quiet, actually. She was really interested in the band. I swear her eyes never left ... you." He seemed puzzled as he said this, as if the words weren't making sense to him.

  Rob stepped back up to us, his arm around his date. She was average height. 5'5" to be exact, but that looked short next to Rob's 6'4" frame. Everything about her was average. Her average length hair was pulled back in an average low ponytail. She wore average jeans and an average blue shirt.

  He started the introductions. "You remember O.K.? This is his girlfriend—"

  Before he could say my name, Rob's date said, "Hello, Esther."

  Only one word escaped my lips.

  "Aster."

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Never in a million years had I ever pictured this scenario in my head. Through all the tears and disbelief, the anguish and grief, I had never ever thought I would see her again. So, my reaction was as much of a surprise to me as it was to everyone else as I drew my hand back and slapped Aster across the face.

  Her hand flew to her cheek as she recoiled. Rob protectively put his arm around her. "Jesus Esther! What the hell was that? What are you doing?"

  I was just standing there, paralyzed. I couldn't believe I had slapped her any more than I could believe she was standing there in front of me.

  O.K. looked from me to Aster and then back to me. "Is it really her?"

  We stood there staring at each other. After a moment, I said, "Oh yes, it's her. I need to go. Get me out of here. Now."

  I turned to leave. It seemed I was always fleeing because of Aster. Dammit, how could this be happening? I needed fresh air. That would help. Everything started spinning. Pushing through the door, I tried to take a deep breath but could not seem to get air into my lungs. I gasped for air and gasped again. The periphery of my vision began to grow dark as I felt hot and cold all at the same time. My hands started sweating and I thought I was going to throw up. I felt my knees grow shaky before my world went black.

  The next thing I heard was a man's voice. Somewhat familiar, but not really. He was speaking, but not to me. He was speaking in doctor-ese to someone. "If she doesn't wake up in the next few minutes, I want a CAT scan. Not only did she pass out unexpectedly, but she hit her head on the curb."

  "O.K., you're not her doctor. You're her, I don't know what." The voice was familiar, female, but I couldn't place it. "I'm her doctor and will monitor her carefully."

  "Melissa, you have to do something."

  Melissa? Why did I know that name?

  "We're waiting to get her blood work back and see if there is anything abnormal going on. It will be back in about ten minutes."

  "Abnormal? What are your looking for?"

  "O.K., you know the deal. We're looking at her CBC and Chem Seven, as well as a pregnancy test."

  "Pregnancy?"

  "I don't have to explain how that works, do I? I know you are in orthopedics, but you should remember basic biology. We need to know that before we continue with any kind of treatment."

  "No, I don't think it is that at all. I think she was just in shock. I'm not as worried about the syncope. I'm more worried about the potential head injury."

  "Okay, O.K. I understand. You have to trust that I will take proper care of her. No matter what I think of you."

  What the hell was that supposed to mean? Who was this person? I didn't want some nasty sounding lady taking care of me.

  I tried to force my eyes open, but they wouldn't move. It was so much effort to do that, and it made me tired. I decided I needed to rest a little bit more before I tried again. I would rest. Yeah. That was it. A little sleep and then I'd be able to get up and tell this Melissa person that I didn't want her to be my doctor.

  "Esther, you need to open your eyes." Why was Charlie's voice in my head? It sounded so far away, like she was talking through a tin can. I must be dreaming. Man, what a weird dream.

  "She's gonna hate this. Can you contact Cheryl and Dean? We need consent to operate." The voice speaking was tired and grave.

  Operate? Who needed an operation? Was it Dean? Dammit, why wouldn't my eyes open? Maybe I could talk without opening my eyes. But for some reasons, the words wouldn't come either. What was going on?

  I had never been so tired in all of my life. I just wanted to sleep. I just catch a few zzzzz's.

  Why was there all of this beeping? Who was talking out there? Didn't these people know I was trying to sleep? Dammit, they're not being quiet. I wanted them to shut up. I needed them to shut up. All their yammering was giving me a headache. God, speaking of which, my head was killing me. For the love of God people, SHUT THE FUCK UP!

  "Oh my God, what did she just say?"

  "Esther, can you hear me? Esther, did you say something?"

  "Somebody call the doctor!"

  "I didn't hear anything."

  "How could you not have heard that? I swear she said something."

  All the voices grew louder in a barrage. It made my head hurt even more. I just needed them to stop. I knew yelling would make the headache even worse, but if it got them to be quiet, it would be worth it. Okay, I was gonna yell over all the voices with all my might.

  "AARUGHUMPH!"

  Wait—that was not what I was trying to say. I was trying to tell them to shut up. I needed to try again.

  "AARUGHUMPH!"

  The people in the room were rejoicing. But not me. I was terrified. Why weren't my words coming out the right way? I knew that I wanted to say, "SHUT UP!" but that did not come out of my mouth. I tried to open my eyes, but they felt glued shut. Trying with the effort that it would normally take to lift a refrigerator, I opened my eyes. Or eye, I should say, because my right eye did not really open. I looked around with my left eye. I could not see over far to the left. It was black. I tried to scan across the room. Cheryl and Dean were there. Charlie too. Man, she was looking old these days. I haven't seen her in about four years and time is not doing her any favors. Some guy I didn't know was there too. He was cute—dark brown hair and brown eyes. He looked concerned and as if he hadn't slept or shaved in weeks. Oh wait, he was wearing a white coat. I must be in the hospital, and he must be my doctor.
Wow, they make doctors pretty cute these days. Lucky me. I continued looking. Gus was there and Aster too.

  Wait ... Aster?

  What the fuck was going on here?

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  The days were blurry. Not even the days, but the moments themselves. I was in and out of sleep constantly. I could not keep my eyes open most of the time. When I did, different people were there. Some of them I knew. Some of them, most of them, I didn't. I didn't know what had happened, but I knew it was bad. I could tell by the look on everyone's faces. They all had that serious look, like when someone has died. I was pretty sure that I hadn't died, but was fairly confident that I was in bad shape. I wish I knew what had happened.

  The worst thing for me—I couldn't speak. Every time I tried to talk, garbage came out. It was so damn frustrating. I needed to ask what had happened. I couldn't remember much. The last thing that was very clear was being in my car. I had just chickened out of doing the speed dating thing that Jillian had talked me into signing up for. I was eating my Ho Hos, and then the car was rear-ended. Okay, so that would explain how I got here. A bad car accident.

  Okay, one answer down. Now, I needed to know what was wrong with me. Other than the speech, of course. My head hurt, like all the time that I was awake. Now, it was morning. I was fairly certain by the amount of light pouring in through the window. There was no one in the room this time. I wondered if I had missed breakfast. I had a hard time focusing on things in the room, and I felt like there was something floating in my eyes. The sunlight was hurting them too. Maybe if I rubbed them, they would clear up. My left hand had an I.V. sticking out of the back of it, and a blood pressure cuff on the upper arm. My right arm was unencumbered, so I decided to use that one.

  Except it weighed about eight hundred pounds. I looked at my right arm and willed it to leave the surface of the bed. After about six starts and stops, I was finally able to get it to my face. Except I missed the eye that I had intended to rub and smacked myself on the nose. I winced in pain and my arm fell back down to the bed as if an anchor was attached to it. It was so much effort to lift my arm, and then it didn't even work right. I needed to think about what could possibly be going on, but all of that work had exhausted me. I would think about it after a little nap.

  Somehow it was now night. Was I sleeping around the clock? What was wrong with me? Why had it been so much work to lift my arm before? Shit, what was wrong with me? Was I a vegetable? No, I was thinking, and vegetables didn't think. Well, maybe the really smart ones, like broccoli do. Shit, what if people thought I was a vegetable and they turned my machines off because they didn't know that I was still in here? Dammit, I wish I'd had taken the time and effort to make one of those living will things.

  Of course, therein was the problem. Who would I have put in charge of that? Certainly not my parents. They had no use for me, and I had no use for them. Were they here? Would they even be bothered to come and see me in the hospital? I thought maybe I had seen them in my room. I tried hard to focus for a moment on that thought. I had seen them here. They were with Aster. Aster. Oh, so it must have been a dream. As bad as I was, I still didn't matter enough to Cheryl and Dean to come and see me. Maybe Charlie would make decisions for me. How would someone get a hold of her? Jillian was really the only person I knew here in Columbus, and she didn't know anything about my family.

  Okay, so there was probably no one here to speak up for me. I was alone. Did they even know my name? Did they consider me a Jane Doe? In the dark of my hospital room, I started to panic. At least the room wasn't totally dark. There was light from the monitors and seeping in from the hallway. Something attached to my left middle finger had a red light that glowed and made my fingertip glow. The buttons on my bed rail were illuminated by a soft green light. I tried to focus on the lights and do a little self-calming. There were buttons to move the head of the bed up and down, as well as my feet. It looked like there were volume controls as well, although I wasn't sure what volume they controlled. And there was a button that had a white cross on a red background. I wondered what that did. Very slowly, and with great effort, I lifted my right hand and managed to press it with the back of my index finger knuckle. Nothing happened. I pressed it again. Again nothing. Stupid button. It was broken.

  I let my hand fall back down, tired from the effort, although not as tired as I had been this morning when I had tried to rub my eyes. Maybe I was improving. Before I could contemplate that any more, a heavy-set nurse in faded cartoon-printed scrubs came bustling into the room.

  "What's up, Sugar?" she drawled. She was obviously a transplant to Columbus. But then again, so was I.

  I tried to answer. The garbled garbage came out again. Fuck. Why couldn't I talk? The words were in my head. Why wouldn't they leave my mouth?

  I tried again. Again the distorted speech. Tears of frustration welled up in my eyes and escaped down my cheeks.

  "Sugar, don't get upset."

  I tried to stop the tears and took a deep breath.

  "Does something hurt?"

  I nodded. She looked surprised that I had responded to her.

  "Can you tell me what hurts?"

  I tried to tell her that it was my head, but again, no go. I shook my head in anger, but that just made it worse. I started to lift my right hand, but let it drop. I looked at my left arm with all the crap attached and tried to lift that one. It came right up and I was able to point to my head. In fact, I touched the left side of my head, and it hurt a lot.

  "Your head hurts?"

  I nodded. I remembered that the sign in sign language for "yes" was a closed fist moving up and down in a nodding motion. I did that. Apparently, the nurse didn't understand sign though, because she missed it and asked me again, "Does your head hurt?"

  I nodded and signed.

  "Okay, Sugar. You sit tight. I, um, gotta go check on something. I'll be right back." She bustled out of the room as quickly as she had bustled in.

  Damn, I was alone again. The speech thing was not happening, and my right arm was not right, but at least I could move my left arm. If only I could think of a way to get them to unhook all the crap from my left arm so it didn't hurt to move it. Speaking of which, something had been wrong when I had touched my head. I lifted my left arm and touched my head again.

  I felt what had seemed so odd. Soft prickles where my hair used to be. Where my hair should be. Why did I have no hair? What the fuck happened to my hair? I touched my head again gingerly. I felt my scalp under the prickles of hair. Then I felt something metal. A little piece of metal, then another little one. Staples. Staples in my head. I counted. Twenty, traveling from the front left side of my head all the way to the back. Holy shit. Someone had cut my head open.

  Before I totally lost it, I tried to piece together what I knew. I had been in a car accident. I couldn't speak and moving my right arm was difficult. It seemed as if I had had some kind of brain surgery. Shit, this was serious. I needed someone to come into the room and talk to me before I totally freaked out. I needed that Southern nurse to come back in and talk to me in her soft twang. I liked that she called me "Sugar." On the other hand, I wondered if she called me that because no one knew my name.

  I made my right hand work again and pushed the call button. Then I waited. A few minutes later, I made the effort and pushed the button again. The nurse came in, this time looking frazzled. A bit breathless, she said, "I paged Dr. Cole. I'm waiting for him to come up to the floor."

  I nodded. I made my right hand into a loose fist, which was the best I could manage, and kept my thumb up. I put my left hand flat under my right fist and lifted it up. It was the sign for "help." I let my fist drop and patted my chest with my left hand. "Me."

  She stopped and frowned. "Are you trying to tell me something?"

  I nodded. I repeated my signs. "Help me."

  She looked apologetic. "I'm sorry, I don't speak sign. I'll put a note in your chart tomorrow and have the speech therapist come up and see you.
"

  Okay. I wanted to laugh that she said she didn't "speak sign" but had no one to share that one with. I wondered how long it would be before the speech therapist would be in to see me. That made me realize I had no idea what time it even was. I used my left hand to point to my right wrist. It was the sign for 'time' but it was also a universally accepted gesture for "what time is it?" I hoped she would be able to figure this one out.

  "Time?" She looked at her watch. "It's almost two in the morning."

  Okay, that meant it would be a while before the speech person would be in to see me. I was glad that I had picked up some sign language along the way during my career as a social worker.

  She went on. "I paged Dr. Cole, as ordered. He should be in soon."

  I nodded again. I was getting tired. Perhaps I would close my eyes until Dr. Cole got here.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  "Esther? Esther can you hear me?"

  Someone was calling my name. That was a good sign. They weren't calling me Jane Doe. They knew who I was.

  I opened my eyes. The person calling my name was a fairly attractive man. He seemed vaguely familiar. Brown eyes, messy brown hair. He needed a haircut. He was wearing a white coat. He was sitting in the blue chair next to my bed. Come to think of it, he looked pretty comfortable for a doctor. I thought the doctors came in, read the chart at the end of the bed, and then stood there looking down at you. He looked tired. Was he too tired to stand? Great, just my luck. I get a doctor who is exhausted. And I won't even be able to complain if he screws up because he is so tired. When I can talk again, I'm so gonna complain to the hospital administration about overworking their employees to the point of exhaustion.

  I lifted my left hand and pointed to my head.

  "You had an accident."

  Yeah, duh. I may be brain damaged, but even I could figure that out. I rolled my eyes.

  "Okay, don't give me shit."