Revealed: The Missing Years
Page 78
Dr. Fairfield’s assistant was waiting for them within the doors of the main facility. John couldn’t decide if her bright smile was sincere or if she was trying to hide something. It looked, different.
“Good morning Valerie. What’s happening with my sister?” Emily asked, impatiently.
“Good morning Mr. and Mrs. Vandersol. Your sister is fine. Please, come with me.”
When Valerie led them to the elevator and pushed the button for the office floor, Emily questioned, “Why are we going to the offices? After your call this morning, I want to see Claire. I need to be sure that she’s all right.” John wrapped his arm reassuringly around Emily’s waist.
“Mrs. Vandersol, we’re going to your sister.”
“Why isn’t she in her room?” Emily looked at her watch. “It’s still early. She should be in her room, and someone should be there helping her—”
The elevator doors opened and Valerie stepped into the hallway. Emily glared up at John. With her lips pressed together, John knew she was refraining from commenting about Valerie’s departure during Emily’s speech. Inhaling deeply, she followed, as did John.
“Let me show you, before you go in,” Valerie said, as she opened a door with a plate beside the frame that read Observation.
“Show us?” Emily asked.
“There’s no sound, but you can see.” She flipped a switch and a large mirrored surface became a window. In the next room, they could see Claire sitting in a chair with Dr. Brown facing her and Dr. Fairfield standing near. Dr. Brown’s lips moved and then so would Claire’s!
Emily covered her mouth as large tears flowed down her cheeks. “Oh, my God! Is she talking?”
“Yes, Mrs. Vandersol, she is.”
Had it not been for John’s steady footing, Emily would have knocked them both to floor as she fell into his chest. Valerie flipped another switch that must have signaled Dr. Fairfield. He looked up and said something to Dr. Brown, who nodded. Within seconds, Dr. Fairfield was opening the door to their room. His normally stoic expression was replaced by the largest smile John had ever seen on the good doctor’s face.
“Mr. and Mrs. Vandersol, we must continue to have a guarded prognosis, but this is good. This is very good.”
Emily shook her head. “I can’t believe it. I want to talk to her.”
“And you will. I wanted to explain a few things first.”
John watched through the window as Dr. Fairfield explained the happenings of the day. The staff had entered Claire’s room to wake her: when they did, she was already showered and dressed. Then, she proceeded to tell them that she didn’t want eggs for breakfast; she wanted fruit. The staff was so shocked that they called Dr. Brown, who called Dr. Fairfield. The entire facility was abuzz with the news.
“Is it permanent?” John asked.
“I can’t answer that with one-hundred-percent accuracy. The human brain is an amazing organ. It makes a path when medically we don’t see a possibility. Something was stopping your sister-in-law from facing reality. Her DTI images told us that she was living and experiencing sensations during her episodes. The change in medication and intensive therapy has worked to essentially bring her two worlds back to one. We all dream; we all have memories. The trick is to only visit those fantasies, not to live there. Ms. Nichols was stuck in that other world. I was hopeful during her recent bouts with agitation that we were on the right track. You see, no one wants to leave that other world, assuming it’s a pleasant place to be. From Ms. Nichols’ tests and behaviors, I believe that where she was, she enjoyed being. As the therapy began to work, her episodes decreased. The agitation was her frustration at losing what she enjoyed. My goal was for that frustration to build to the point of action. I believe that’s where we are. Ms. Nichols took action. She knows where she is. She knows her name and her daughter’s name. We’ll have to wait and see if her brain can handle the onslaught of information that she’ll encounter with this new awakening. I recommend that her therapy be increased.”
Emily’s chest heaved with deep sobs. “Please, I need to see her.”
Valerie handed her a tissue, as Dr. Fairfield warned, “She knows that you’re on your way. She’s expressed concern about you being upset with her.”
“Oh God, no,” Emily exclaimed. “I’m not upset. I want my sister.”
“Please, calm yourself. Understand that this is very overwhelming for her.”
Emily nodded. “I understand.”
As John worked unsuccessfully to hold back the tears, he gratefully took a tissue offered by Dr. Fairfield’s assistant. This development was more than they’d dared to hope. Taking a few deep breaths, John and Emily followed Dr. Fairfield out the door, down the hall, and into the next room. When the door opened, Claire kept her head bowed, and peered up at them through veiled lashes.
“Claire!” Emily cried, as she ran to her sister and wrapped her in her arms. The rest of the room stood by helplessly as both women hugged and cried. Eventually, John joined his family, wrapping them both in his arms.
Emily took Dr. Brown’s chair and leaned forward, with her knees touching Claire’s and their foreheads mere inches away, Emily held tightly to her sister’s hands. “Tell us how you’re doing.”
“I’m… tired,” Claire replied.
“Oh, Claire, thank God.”
Claire’s eyes widened. “You’re… not mad?”
“Good morning Valerie. What’s happening with my sister?” Emily asked, impatiently.
“Good morning Mr. and Mrs. Vandersol. Your sister is fine. Please, come with me.”
When Valerie led them to the elevator and pushed the button for the office floor, Emily questioned, “Why are we going to the offices? After your call this morning, I want to see Claire. I need to be sure that she’s all right.” John wrapped his arm reassuringly around Emily’s waist.
“Mrs. Vandersol, we’re going to your sister.”
“Why isn’t she in her room?” Emily looked at her watch. “It’s still early. She should be in her room, and someone should be there helping her—”
The elevator doors opened and Valerie stepped into the hallway. Emily glared up at John. With her lips pressed together, John knew she was refraining from commenting about Valerie’s departure during Emily’s speech. Inhaling deeply, she followed, as did John.
“Let me show you, before you go in,” Valerie said, as she opened a door with a plate beside the frame that read Observation.
“Show us?” Emily asked.
“There’s no sound, but you can see.” She flipped a switch and a large mirrored surface became a window. In the next room, they could see Claire sitting in a chair with Dr. Brown facing her and Dr. Fairfield standing near. Dr. Brown’s lips moved and then so would Claire’s!
Emily covered her mouth as large tears flowed down her cheeks. “Oh, my God! Is she talking?”
“Yes, Mrs. Vandersol, she is.”
Had it not been for John’s steady footing, Emily would have knocked them both to floor as she fell into his chest. Valerie flipped another switch that must have signaled Dr. Fairfield. He looked up and said something to Dr. Brown, who nodded. Within seconds, Dr. Fairfield was opening the door to their room. His normally stoic expression was replaced by the largest smile John had ever seen on the good doctor’s face.
“Mr. and Mrs. Vandersol, we must continue to have a guarded prognosis, but this is good. This is very good.”
Emily shook her head. “I can’t believe it. I want to talk to her.”
“And you will. I wanted to explain a few things first.”
John watched through the window as Dr. Fairfield explained the happenings of the day. The staff had entered Claire’s room to wake her: when they did, she was already showered and dressed. Then, she proceeded to tell them that she didn’t want eggs for breakfast; she wanted fruit. The staff was so shocked that they called Dr. Brown, who called Dr. Fairfield. The entire facility was abuzz with the news.
“Is it permanent?” John asked.
“I can’t answer that with one-hundred-percent accuracy. The human brain is an amazing organ. It makes a path when medically we don’t see a possibility. Something was stopping your sister-in-law from facing reality. Her DTI images told us that she was living and experiencing sensations during her episodes. The change in medication and intensive therapy has worked to essentially bring her two worlds back to one. We all dream; we all have memories. The trick is to only visit those fantasies, not to live there. Ms. Nichols was stuck in that other world. I was hopeful during her recent bouts with agitation that we were on the right track. You see, no one wants to leave that other world, assuming it’s a pleasant place to be. From Ms. Nichols’ tests and behaviors, I believe that where she was, she enjoyed being. As the therapy began to work, her episodes decreased. The agitation was her frustration at losing what she enjoyed. My goal was for that frustration to build to the point of action. I believe that’s where we are. Ms. Nichols took action. She knows where she is. She knows her name and her daughter’s name. We’ll have to wait and see if her brain can handle the onslaught of information that she’ll encounter with this new awakening. I recommend that her therapy be increased.”
Emily’s chest heaved with deep sobs. “Please, I need to see her.”
Valerie handed her a tissue, as Dr. Fairfield warned, “She knows that you’re on your way. She’s expressed concern about you being upset with her.”
“Oh God, no,” Emily exclaimed. “I’m not upset. I want my sister.”
“Please, calm yourself. Understand that this is very overwhelming for her.”
Emily nodded. “I understand.”
As John worked unsuccessfully to hold back the tears, he gratefully took a tissue offered by Dr. Fairfield’s assistant. This development was more than they’d dared to hope. Taking a few deep breaths, John and Emily followed Dr. Fairfield out the door, down the hall, and into the next room. When the door opened, Claire kept her head bowed, and peered up at them through veiled lashes.
“Claire!” Emily cried, as she ran to her sister and wrapped her in her arms. The rest of the room stood by helplessly as both women hugged and cried. Eventually, John joined his family, wrapping them both in his arms.
Emily took Dr. Brown’s chair and leaned forward, with her knees touching Claire’s and their foreheads mere inches away, Emily held tightly to her sister’s hands. “Tell us how you’re doing.”
“I’m… tired,” Claire replied.
“Oh, Claire, thank God.”
Claire’s eyes widened. “You’re… not mad?”
