Aftermath

by Joanne Clancy

  Everyone wanted to know how she was feeling and if the pain had improved much. She hated constantly talking about it but it was such a huge part of her daily life that she couldn't help it. Despite the morphine and other strong painkillers, nothing could completely eradicate the incessant hurting. The night terrors were the worst thing for her, much worse than the physical agony. When she closed her eyes she would see the swirling, rising waters and whenever there was a loud noise she became terribly frightened because she was immediately reminded of the eerie, crashing, roaring sounds of the tsunami. Banging noises terrified her more than anything else. She considered herself to be a strong person but any loud noises completely unnerved her.

  One particular day, her pain became unbearable. She couldn't stand the agony any longer. The nurses gave her as much medication as they could but it still wasn't enough to ease the searing pain. Maura called the doctor who came to her sister’s bedside immediately. He asked her to describe the pain, to tell him exactly what she was feeling and when she had finished he thought for a while before finally speaking.

  “Kerry,” the wise doctor said. “Sometimes pain seems like it's much worse than it actually is. Pain is never that big. It's our minds that make it so much bigger. You must try to focus on something else; anything other than the pain. Think about objects, or people, or happy memories, or plans that you might have for the future. The pain will get easier and slowly subside. It's important that you remain cheerful and don't drift into sadness; otherwise you will become sad and depressed. You must try your best to be happy and remain positive, because when you are positive you will heal much faster.”

  The doctor's advice was so simple that Kerry decided to take it. His advice reminded her of the visualisation technique that she so regularly used in her own energy and meditation work. If she wanted something to happen she would imagine it happening, which she believed was a great help in achieving her goals. She had used the technique when she'd decided to run a marathon. She'd pictured herself running over the finishing line and when the big race day arrived she'd successfully run that marathon. She'd used the technique when she was being battered by the tsunami's waves and she'd willed herself to survive and cling to her life-saving tree. She'd willed herself to hold on and imagined herself full of strength to search for Conor and Saoirse.

  So she began to remember all the wonderful people in her life; past and present. Pictures ran through her mind of when she and Maura were little girls and living with their aunt and uncle. Aunt Aisling giving her and Maura a bath in their huge tub, sponging them with warm, soapy water and washing their hair with her camomile shampoo. She saw her grandparents and the beautiful forest behind their house. She saw her aunts, her uncles, her grandparents, her children when they were tiny babies and the wonderful Ballycotton House. She thought about all her friends who cared about her and who had been so kind to her. She pictured all their smiling, loving faces and she felt truly loved and blessed. She thought about all the people in Japan who were so kind and giving; but most of all, she thought about Conor, and her mind flooded with so many beautiful memories of their lives together. She imagined the day they would be reunited and how there would be an even stronger bond between them because they had survived such a nightmare. It would bring them so close that nothing would ever tear them apart again. She fell asleep dreaming of Conor and the next day, for the first time in weeks, she had no pain. She went off the morphine and the pills and began controlling everything with her mind.

  Every day after that was a little victory for her. She started to move her legs apart from nothing to several centimetres. She still kept them drawn up most of the time because it was more comfortable, but it was comforting to know that she was able to move them if she really wanted.

  Her wonderful sister took over the task of washing her every day and became her own private nurse. After many weeks, the day arrived when she was well enough to have her hair washed. It was sheer bliss! The nurses, helped by her sister, put a basin on her bed and washed her hair, which was thick with mud. It was her first shampoo since the tsunami and such a glorious feeling. Emer and Saoirse even took photos of her with her clean, wet hair!

  The speed of her recovery truly amazed the doctors and they called it a miracle. She was skin and bones after everything that she'd endured but she didn't care. It fascinated Saoirse to see the scars on her mother's face and body fading away so quickly.

  The day arrived when she was well enough to move on. She needed to be in a hospital where they could further assess her condition. Most importantly, she needed to start walking again. She couldn't wait to get back to Cork and see her beloved aunt and uncle again. Maura made all the arrangements to fly her home. She couldn't change flights and because there were no direct flights from Japan to Cork, the insurance company provided a special plane for her.

  The flight left late at night and all the doctors and nurses, even those who were officially off duty, came to say goodbye and wave her off. A doctor and nurse rode in the ambulance with Kerry and her family. The doctor reminded her not to drift into sadness. She felt odd about leaving Japan, happy and sad at the same time. Of course, she was happy to be returning home to Cork, at last, but she was also heartbroken to be leaving Conor behind. There was still no news of him, but she remained hopeful, the alternative was too unbearable.

  Chapter 4

  Kerry was relieved when the ambulance finally arrived at the airport and drove onto the tarmac. There was only one tiny plane standing there, the smallest plane that Kerry had ever seen!

  “Oh my God, mom!” Saoirse cried, unable to hide her nervousness. “I hope that's not our plane.”

  Of course, it was their plane.

  The little plane took off with a pilot, a doctor, Maura and the Darcys. It was very cramped on board with hardly enough room for all of them. Kerry was carefully positioned in a stretcher bed on one side of the plane and the others were squashed together opposite her.

  She felt strange; a peculiar mix of happiness to be returning home to Cork at last but also a deep sadness at leaving Conor behind. Her worries consumed her; worries about Conor, of course, worries that she hadn't thanked everyone who had been so good to her in the hospital, worries about all the victims of the devastating tsunami and worries about her own recovery. She was filled with determination to return to Japan as soon as was humanly possible and find Conor herself. This was her driving force now, and before the flight home even took off, she was making plans for her return. Thinking about it made her focus wholeheartedly on getting well and fit again.

  Kerry slept a lot on the flight. They made several stops along the way to re-fuel, after all, the little plane also had a little tank but thankfully the flight was quite smooth and uneventful, so she didn't suffer too much discomfort. Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for the other passengers who were cramped like sardines! The doctor made sure to move her legs regularly during the flight. Her medical team was very worried about her being in the air for so long. They gave her injections to thin her blood and her legs were encased in a pair of very unattractive elastic stockings which would help to prevent deep vein thrombosis.

  Nuala had flown ahead of them and she'd already cleverly released misleading information about Kerry's arrival time in order to throw the press off the track. The media had whipped up quite a storm in Ireland about the story of Kerry and her missing husband. Her family and friends didn't want her to have to deal with the intrusion of photographer and journalists who were desperate to get her exclusive story.

  The pilots were very helpful too and were more than happy to help Kerry escape from the paparazzi's prying eyes. They landed and went directly to a hangar, not the arrivals gate, which would have been expected. Kerry was immediately put into an ambulance and driven away to safety. Nobody got any photographs, much to her relief.

  Aunt Aisling and Uncle Sean were waiting impatiently at the hospital to see their beloved niece and they were overcome with joy to have her home
safe at last. Her aunt and uncle had never been particularly demonstrative when she was growing up. She knew they loved her dearly, but hugs and kisses were not an everyday part of their lives. They were very loving in the Irish way; they didn't go around telling each other how much they cared, it was just there. Like most Irish people they weren't comfortable talking about their feelings. There was a lot of love, but not a lot of contact. They'd hug occasionally and didn't say “I love you” to each other every day, but even though she didn't hear “I love you” all the time, she felt it in everything that her aunt and uncle did for her; from her aunt painstakingly ironing her clothes to her uncle cooking her favourite meals. They didn't have much money to lavish her with presents, but they gave Kerry and her sister unconditional love, which was a far greater gift.

  That day was different. Seeing their beloved niece, who they nearly lost, opened the floodgates of emotion for them and they almost smothered her with hugs and kisses! It was overwhelming. Aunt Aisling asked her a million questions one after the other and Kerry did her best to answer them.

  “We tricked those reporters!” she laughed. Anyone would think they were in a spy movie with the delight on her face.

  They hugged and kissed and there was a lot of happiness in the air, not too many tears, just smiles and lots of love. Kerry was already feeling much stronger when she saw her aunt and uncle and that was the way she'd wanted it. There was no need for them to have witnessed first- hand the state she was in only a few short weeks previously.

  Returning home to Cork was joyful for Kerry but it also signalled the beginning of her long road to recuperation. She was checked over by X-rays, MRIs, CAT scans, general surgeons, orthopaedic surgeons, gynaecologists and psychiatrists. It was a thorough examination. The doctors unanimously concluded that she was basically fine; she need to remain in bed and wait for her bones to heal. Her aunt and uncle were at her bedside the entire time. They slept in her room and took care of her; even insisting on emptying her bedpans.

  A rehabilitation therapist began to work with her and Kerry started to exercise a little, nothing too strenuous. She missed her running and longed for the day when she could get out in the countryside again, letting the fresh air fill her lungs. Her exercise regime consisted of lying in bed and lifting light weights with her arms. She had overhead hanging pulleys which allowed her to pull herself up to strengthen her arms. Her arms were alright, it was her legs that presented the biggest challenge. She couldn't lift them off the bed because she still couldn't open them much. Each day, she would try her best to push them apart a little more and slowly she began to turn her body. It felt alien to have such little control over something that she had taken for granted for so long. She had spent the last weeks lying on her back when her natural sleeping position, before the tsunami, was lying on her stomach.

  Kerry's recovery certainly wasn't a quiet one. The media was hovering around and some journalists were even trying to get access to her room by bribing the nurses! Her phone was ringing all the time. Nuala tried her best to protect her but still it was an unpleasant feeling to be hounded. She appreciated all the many messages of goodwill and tried her best to let the bad stuff go.

  Kerry usually considered herself to be quite technologically challenged but she jumped at the chance when Nuala suggested that she might like her laptop to read some of the many emails she'd been receiving from well-wishers. She’d have done anything to pass the time which seemed to drag as she lay in her hospital bed, unable to move very far. She was deeply moved by the many emails and letters she'd received from all over the world and she made it a goal to personally reply to every one of them.

  The medical staff was very cautious with her. She begged them continuously to allow her to stand and eventually they relented. They let her stand up while two nurses supported her on either side. It was an amazing feeling to finally be standing on her own two feet again! It would be another week before she was able to try standing again and then she was able to use a walker. She was getting stronger every day. She'd built up her muscles with the exercises she'd done from her bed, but she was utterly exhausted after just a few minutes of standing on the same spot. The next time, she took her first shaky steps and still she was exhausted from the effort.

  “It's strange,” she said to Maura. “I've walked every day of my life and never even given it a second thought. I haven't walked for many weeks and I find myself having to focus on every single step, trying to force myself forward.”

  “I know. It's amazing how much we take for granted,” Maura agreed. “I can see you putting all your energy into simply placing one foot in front of the other. I feel sorry for your poor hands with the pressure you're forcing on them.”

  “I can't help it. I'm gripping and pushing down so hard on the walker that I'll need to wear gloves soon for protection or else I’ll be covered in blisters.”

  It wasn't long until she graduated to crutches and was walking tentatively along the hospital corridors.

  “I can do more. I can do more,” she insisted, but her rehab nurse advised her not to rush her recovery. She badly wanted to get well fast so she could return to Japan to find Conor.

  Kerry decided that it was time to start reading the newspapers and searching online to see if she could find any piece of information that might lead her to her husband. Her friends and family had shielded her from the media for long enough and now it was time to take action. Every day she was getting stronger physically, mentally and emotionally. It was time to start facing reality, whatever that reality might be.

  When she first started reading the newspapers she realised the full magnitude of what had happened. It was horrifying to read about some of the atrocities that occurred in the aftermath of the tsunami. The newspapers reported that evil human traffickers abducted some of the lost and orphaned children. They were kidnapped from the street and some were actually removed from the hospitals and shelters! The poor, misfortunate, innocent children were being offered for adoption on the black market but they were the more fortunate. Others were sold as sex slaves or used to harvest organs. There were no words for such people, only utter contempt. The more Kerry read, the more she wanted to return. She wanted to find Conor.

  Time was passing and still, occasionally, there would be a wonderful story about someone who had survived, someone who was found and reunited with their loved ones. Kerry prayed that her husband would have the same miracle.

  Visitors came to see her every day. Her little hospital room was a hive of activity and everybody made sure that she was never alone. Friends and family came from far and wide and she was delighted to see everyone. Her uncle cooked her favourite food and brought a tasty dish every day. She was glad because she was getting tired of the bland hospital food. Saoirse and Emer visited her most days. Kerry had insisted that they return to school and college, she didn't want them falling too far behind in their studies. She knew their dad would have wanted their lives to remain as normal as possible.

  Maura was with her all the time. She was like an angel and was the centre of Kerry's support network. She brought some of Conor's clothes to the hospital; his old tee-shirt that he wore to bed and still smelled of him and his shabby winter coat that he refused to throw out no matter how much Kerry nagged him. Maura brought photographs and the children brought the presents which they had planned to give him for his birthday. Conor's parents visited her too. They talked about Conor and Kerry knew that they had little hope of finding him, but still, for her sake, they tried to be positive. Nobody wanted to upset her. It was obvious that she was doing her utmost to stay positive.

  When she was alone, which was rare, she would put on Conor's tee-shirt and his old winter jacket when it felt like her husband's arms were wrapped around her for a moment. She could still smell his particular musky scent when she buried her face in the material. Those were the only times when she allowed herself to cry.

  Kerry continued to recuperate steadily. At night, before sleeping, she lay i
n her bed listening to healing music. The music was beautiful, powerful and cleansing and helped to ease the ache in her heart. The hospital's psychologist came to see her regularly. He thought that overall she was doing well but she was still having problems adjusting to loud, unexpected noises. Anything that even vaguely resembled the noises she'd heard during the tsunami still absolutely terrified her. Her heart would pound in her chest when she heard a sudden bang. The doctor tried to explain to that her reactions were perfectly understandable considering everything she'd been through. The noises were triggering her memories and responses.

  “I feel like I'm about to have a heart attack,” Kerry told the doctor, after one particularly bad panic attack. “The sensible part of me knows that the noise is probably something simple but I can't help almost jumping out of my skin sometimes!”

  “It's normal,” the doctor advised. “When you hear the sounds, don't ignore them. Focus on the noise and try to analyse it. Look around and try to find out what exactly caused the bang. It will probably be something like a door slamming or maybe someone dropping a plate or a cup. Don't try to block it out; that's when your fear and imagination will take over. Analyse the sound, face the reality of the noise and it will become easier for you.”

  Of course, the doctor was correct. Kerry took his advice and it worked. Unknown noises slowly stopped bothering her. She was diagnosed with post traumatic stress disorder and her psychologist advised her that she might have some unpredictable reactions six months and even one year from the date of the tsunami. He also said that she might become physically ill at the memories that would be triggered within her from time to time. Kerry was relieved to know what to expect and hoped that she would be ready if an episode ever struck her in the future.