‘Your accident was over thirteen months ago.’
Panic almost overtook him and if he could do it, he knew he’d punch something. His breathing became erratic and he heard his mum yelling for a nurse to come and help.
When he’d calmed down and the nurse left them alone again, his eyes filled with tears. The longest lie-in he could remember having was as a teenager when it was a regular occurrence to stay in bed and watch television, especially in the school holidays when his parents were at work and the house was so quiet you’d wake to the sound of birds chirping in the trees outside. Being told he’d been asleep for thirteen months was like being run at and tackled to the ground by a New Zealand forward, pinned there unable to get up, barely able to breathe.
‘We had no idea whether you’d ever get better,’ his mum told him. ‘But I couldn’t give up on you. I know this is a lot to take in.’ She put a hand on his arm.
He stared up at the ceiling; unable to believe he’d been lying in a bed for so long, unable to even begin to comprehend what the long-term prognosis would be. He asked questions and according to the garbled descriptions his mum gave him, nobody had any idea how he’d progress long-term. The type of injury he’d sustained and the length of time he’d been lying there could mean lifelong disabilities, and trying to get his head around that was unimaginable.
‘What date is it today?’ He needed some sense of time. He was grasping at shreds of reality.
‘It’s New Year’s Day.’ She paused before she added the year and as soon as she did he shut his eyes and felt a tear trickle past his temple and down to his ear before he fell asleep again. Maybe sleep was the only way to cope with all this, because his last memory was well before the accident must have happened. Slowly things had come back to him in dribs and drabs, but he was missing a lot of pieces and he knew it, and the thought of never remembering those details was incomprehensible.
When he woke a few hours later, he wanted to know more – who was driving, where the accident happened, who was first at the hospital, what operations, if any, he had had, who’d been visiting him, how was Lydia dealing with it all, had his dad been to see him, how long he’d been in hospital and all the stages between then and now.
‘So Lydia has been to see me?’ he asked.
‘She came a lot in the beginning,’ Anita explained, ‘but it’s more difficult now because you’re in Suffolk, near home. She comes when she can.’
‘Have you called to tell her I’m awake?’
‘I tried to call when you first showed signs of consciousness, but when I didn’t get an answer I didn’t try again.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I didn’t want to give her good news and then take it away again if things didn’t improve.’
‘What, you think I’ll be in this bed forever?’
Anita smiled. ‘Not now, no. But long before you actually spoke and seemed to be aware of the people around you, I had no idea what would happen. I didn’t want her to have to deal with the situation until we knew everything. I’ve come to care a lot about Lydia, respect her, and I knew I’d rather go to her with news that you’re well and truly on your way to recovering. I didn’t want her to see you all confused, with no idea where you are or who any of us were.’
‘Maybe it wasn’t your choice to make.’
‘I know, Theo.’ She looked down at the floor but then gathered herself. ‘When you started to improve I made the call, but I still haven’t been able to get hold of her.’
He didn’t know how to feel. Part of him was angry that she’d not told Lydia he’d showed signs of waking up, the other part of him was relieved. ‘Do you want to know the last thing I remember?’ It wasn’t really a question because he was carrying on regardless of his mum’s answer. ‘I remember flying to Zurich with Lydia, I remember flying home because our luggage took forever to come through and we thought they’d lost it. But I don’t remember anything since. Not one single thing.’
‘But that was over a year before your accident.’
Fear gripped him again but this time he managed his own panic. His words may still be slurred and his body lying helplessly in a bed, but he was in charge now. He’d woken up and he wouldn’t let this break him. He’d lost over two years of his life, more than one in this bed and the other vanishing due to the brain injury. He didn’t know whether he’d ever get the memories back, he’d been robbed of all that time, but now he needed to take control.
‘I’ll try calling Lydia again.’ Anita pulled out her phone. ‘You never know, seeing her or hearing her voice could bring everything back.’ His mum did that a lot, took action rather than face up to what was really happening. ‘I honestly don’t know where she is. She’s not answering the home phone and I can’t get through to her on her mobile. I’ll have to try and contact her parents soon.’ She was babbling now.
‘No!’ He hadn’t intended to raise his voice, he didn’t even realise he was capable given how difficult speech was. ‘Do not call her.’
‘But she’ll need to know, Theo. She’ll want to be here. She was by your side every day in the hospital and she comes here as much as she can. She’ll be so pleased.’
Lydia. The girl he’d met at university and loved ever since. They lived together, he could remember that, and she was beautiful, funny, kind-hearted. But all along, he’d been the man, not a helpless invalid lying in a bed unable to even speak properly. He’d had a catheter which they’d taken out now he could use a bed pan, something called a PEG which he still didn’t fully understand, but he couldn’t even stand on his own two feet. He literally couldn’t stand up, he couldn’t walk, and he had no idea whether he would ever be able to do much at all. Right now, he couldn’t feel less of a man if he tried.
‘I can’t take her seeing me like this.’ He looked away from his mum, he didn’t want her pity or to see panic. He was desperate to see Lydia, of course he was, but he couldn’t do it. Not like this. His mum was his mum and she’d looked after him as a baby, he didn’t mind her being in the room seeing how helpless he was. He didn’t mind the staff either, it was their job, but he wanted to be able to stand and put his arms around his girl, reassure her he was here.
Over the next few days Theo alternated between being angry and being upset. On a couple of occasions he refused to see Anita and when he did he told her exactly how he felt. It was as though he no longer had a filter for what was right and what was wrong. He loathed being like this. His arms wouldn’t work, his legs certainly didn’t, and when Phil, a uni buddy, had come to see him at hospital dressed in a rugby shirt and jeans, he’d been catapulted back to his rugby days. He and Phil had talked about the game but when he left, Theo plunged into a pit of despair because he had no idea whether he would ever be the same man again.
‘I wish you’d let me die!’ He shrieked at Anita the morning after he returned from having his PEG feeding-tube removed at the hospital. ‘You and Lydia should’ve let me go!’ He roared, his voice getting as much of a workout as he could give it. His throat was sore, his mouth dry, but still the anger and frustration spilled out. He called Lydia all the names under the sun, furious at her for letting him end up like this. ‘What sort of a life am I going to have now? You both should’ve let me go when you had the chance!’
His mum wasn’t even crying anymore. It was as though she was so distraught she had no idea how to process her emotions.Yeah, join the club, Mum. I don’t know how to fucking feel either!
He was still yelling at her a few days later, frustrated and bitter. ‘I can’t eat without you putting a spoon to my mouth!’ He yelled at her the day after that too, and eventually it got to the point where she fled from the room and didn’t come back for hours.
