Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
“Howard.”
The dark-haired male waves a hand at the golden umber skinned female beside him. “You all remember Dr. Vickers, the on-call neurologist that initially assessed Bryn and has been monitoring her brain activity, correct?”
“Has there been a new development?” I rush to investigate. “Is there cause for alarm?”
“Development, yes,” she cautiously begins. “Bryn is conscious and responsive.”
Relief rips itself through my voice leaving it to be mainly air, “She’s awake?”
“Yes,” Dr. Howard slowly nods. “Her vitals are all still holding steady. We’ll be drawing blood again within the hour to verify no infections have developed and will be encouraging her to eat shortly after to ensure everything inside is…functioning properly.”
“No bowel obstructions or blood clots,” Hamilton murmurs to me for clarification.
“That’s…” words struggle to form. “That’s…”
“Fantastic,” Lauren inserts for me, hand reaching to hold mine in support.
“The severe bruising on her back and legs seems to be increasing, so we’ll continue to monitor that as well; however, there are still no signs of broken bones or internal bleeding,” Dr. Howard explains, tone eerily even.
“Pretty standard,” Hamilton echoes for my reassurance.
“What’s not standard are some of Bryn’s responses to…certain questions she’s been asked,” Dr. Vickers gingerly continues.
“That sounds pretty standard to me,” Lauren heavily sighs. “My daughter isn’t exactly Mrs. PC.”
A nod of understanding is delivered before adding, “She doesn’t believe she’s Mrs. Wilcox either.”
“Excuse me?” practically reverberates around the room.
“Brain injury and trauma, such as the one she recently suffered, can often lead to issues regarding one’s memory, particularly if she’s dealt with it in the past.”
“Like her previous concussion,” Hamilton damn near whispers.
“Correct. And sometimes in these situations, a patient may face amnesia-”
“My wife doesn’t know who she fucking is anymore?!”
“Weston,” firmly hisses Lauren.
“Typically, the two types a patient like Bryn may deal with are retrograde or anterograde amnesia.” Dr. Vickers folds her hands politely in front of her. “Anterograde amnesia is the inability to form new memories. Basically, anything pre incident would still be intact – although the accident itself may not be recalled – and everything post is subject to being forgotten.”
Lauren beats me to the question, “Is that what she has?”
“Bryn seems to have no issue recalling who I am. Who Doctor Howard is. Or even the ‘bitchy’ nurse who she says hid the T.V. remote to stop having to listen to Star Trek reruns.”
Yeah.
That’s definitely the woman I married.
“Which is what leads me to believe she may be experiencing retrograde.”
“What exactly makes you think she’s experiencing anything at all?” Hamilton swiftly investigates.
“Claiming that her last name is Winters,” the woman treads carefully. “That her place of employment is somewhere called Diamonds, not The Bower and Powell Aquatic Institute.”
“The Gentleman’s Club she used to bartend at?” her mom croaks in obvious disbelief. “She hasn’t worked there in years…”
“That was before Fire & Ash,” I add, bewilderment burrowing in my stare. “That was long before we ever met.”
“She also claims she’s never had any children-”
“She had our son!” Tossing the bottle of water into the nearby garbage precedes me grumping. “She was in labor for sixteen hours, twenty-two minutes, and twelve seconds.” I lift my scarred hand. “She broke two of my fucking fingers during it!”
Dr. Vickers flashes me a small cringe prior to stating to Hamilton, “This is what is leading me to my conclusion; however, I would like to present outside stimuli to see if perhaps it triggers something in the brain to fill in the blanks.”
Hope makes the mistake of hopping into my expression. “That’s possible?!”
“It’s possible yet irresponsible to place a percentage on how probable,” Dr. Howard finally rejoins the conversation.
Right now, I’ll take possible.
I need possible.
A fucking miracle.
“Monitoring her response and her body’s response to introducing the two of you will be key to giving me a better understanding of her current state which is why I’ll not only be in the room but handling the introductions. And Dr. Howard will be in the room to guarantee her vitals remain steady rather than spike or spiral.” She lets her dark chocolate brown gaze connect to my mismatched glare. “I am going to have to ask your security to remain out here and Hamilton to station himself in the unseen right outside the doorway. I understand he is her primary care provider, but for the sake of discovery, only you and her mother should be introduced.”
“Understood,” Hamilton folds without the inkling of a fight.
Post a hand gesture for security to stay in position, the five of us begin making our way towards Bryn’s room where Lauren enters first while I’m instructed to listen from the threshold.
“Mom,” I hear the love of my life sigh in exasperation instilling both gratitude and grief, “did they really have to call you?” One beat passes. “For hitting my head?” Another brief pause is taken. “That’s not really an emergency worthy of calling my emergency contact, doc.”