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8
WASHINGTON MEMORIAL HOSPITAL
WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON
“I came as soon as I could,” said Dr. Emanuel Hicks as he walked into Sherlock’s private room on the third floor, her new home after being released from the ICU. He was a renowned psychiatrist and hypnotist, and an Elvis impersonator in his spare time. Luckily for the FBI, he was very happy to be in his tenth year at Quantico. He was tall and skinny as a parking meter, had to wear a pillow strapped to his belly when he was Elvis.
“I appreciate your coming,” Savich said, and shook his hand.
“I’m very sorry about all this, Savich.” Dr. Hicks looked at Sherlock, sound asleep and breathing easily. He took in the small bandage on her head, her pallor, her stillness. She looked peaceful, but he knew the Sherlock he liked and admired was locked away. As for Savich, Dr. Hicks knew how hard it had to be for him to keep it together. Were it his own wife, Mary, lying there with no clue who he was, who she was, he would be scared spitless. But Savich needed him as a professional now, not as a longtime friend. He said in a practiced, calm voice, “Since I have privileges here, I was able to look at her chart before I came in. You know there are excellent neurologists and psychiatrists on staff here at Washington Memorial.”
“I don’t know any of them,” Savich said simply. “I know and trust you. She’s been asleep about an hour now since they gave her a sedative to keep her still in the MRI.” He paused, then, “As I told you, Dr. Hicks, she doesn’t know who I am, who Sean is, who she is. I hope I handled it right. We talked and I saw glimpses of her, but she doesn’t remember anything.” He stared toward her, wanting to touch her, to kiss her, to tell her to come back to him. He felt impotent and hated it. “I’m a stranger to her. The doctors didn’t find that out, I did.”
Dr. Hicks laid his hand lightly on Savich’s shoulder. “I grant you they could have done a more thorough neurological exam a few hours earlier, but they were more concerned with her physical injuries, with making sure her life wasn’t in danger. It was good you were with her when she realized she didn’t remember, rather than someone who didn’t know her.”
“That’s one of the reasons I asked you here. I wanted a friend as well as a doctor to see her, someone who knows who she is. What she is.”
“I understand, and it’s my pleasure. Now I need to wake her up and do an exam, and frankly, it would be better if I’m alone with her. When I’m done, I’ll go check the MRI, and then we can talk. She’s going to recover from this, Savich, I can promise you that already.”
Those few steady words calmed him. But Savich didn’t want to leave. Dr. Hicks looked after him as he finally walked out of the room, his steps lagging, then he looked back at Sherlock. Dr. Hicks couldn’t imagine how it felt for her to have no memory of self or anyone else close. He touched his fingers to her wrist. The pulse was steady and slow. Good. He pushed up his glasses and bent over her, lightly shook her awake.
Twenty minutes later, Dr. Hicks walked into the family waiting room. Savich was on his feet in a flash. “How is she? What do you think, Dr. Hicks?”
Dr. Hicks said quickly as he walked into the room, “She’ll be all right, Savich, as I told you. When I woke her, she didn’t know me, of course, but she accepted I was a doctor and a friend, and cooperated nicely with her neurological exam.”
Dr. Loomis said from the doorway, “You must be Dr. Hicks.” Both men turned to see her walk in, her hand outstretched. “Your fame precedes you, Doctor. I’m Dr. Andrea Loomis. Sorry I couldn’t catch up with you earlier. And Agent Savich,” she added, nodding to him, “insisted he wanted to call you in.”
Dr. Hicks smiled and shook her hand. “I’ve had a chance to examine your patient and take a look at the MRI you ordered for her. I don’t know if you’ve reviewed it, but it appears to be normal.”
“Yes, it is.” Dr. Loomis looked over at Savich and said to both men, “As Agent Savich knows, we were quite surprised by how long her amnesia has lasted following the accident. She suffered a bad concussion, of course, lost consciousness at the scene for quite some time.”
Dr. Hicks nodded. “Agent Savich has seen severe concussions in the course of his work, and many of the consequences. I was telling him Agent Sherlock and I spoke while I was examining her. I am very pleased to say her anterograde memory is intact, so she’s not confused, and she’s not complaining of dizziness or nausea at the moment. Her balance is good. She seems to be left only with her headaches, and of course, the post-traumatic amnesia.” He said to Savich, “I know she is your wife and that makes this very hard, but believe me, Savich, Sherlock will remember, her brain will sort itself out again and recover naturally.”
“When?”
“In my experience, all the concussion symptoms usually resolve in a few days or a week. Perhaps as soon as she wakes up again. Sometimes it takes longer for the headaches to go away, but they become less severe. Do you agree, Dr. Loomis?”
Dr. Loomis said, “Yes, we all hope and expect her amnesia will clear up soon. I know concussions are scary, and it’s impossible to predict exactly what will happen and when, but both Dr. Hicks and I are optimistic, and so should you be, Agent Savich. It’s a matter now of your being patient—difficult, I know, but there’s really no choice. She will heal when she heals, and there’s nothing we can do to speed it up.”
Savich said, “It wasn’t only that she didn’t know who I was or who our son, Sean, was or that she is an FBI agent. I even showed her a video. She didn’t recognize herself. You both think she’ll recover from all that?”
Dr. Hicks said, “Yes, I do, even though that kind of amnesia is unusual. I expect she’ll recall the narrative of her life first of all. She might remember the distant past before last week. It might take even longer for her brain to lift the fog surrounding the accident, or perhaps she never will remember what happened. As Dr. Loomis said, we have to be patient.” He laid his hand on Savich’s shoulder. “You know all this. I’m sure you’ve spent much of the day reading about it.”
Dr. Loomis’s cell sounded loud and sharp. She looked down, frowned, and said quickly, “In fact, Agent Savich, there is little reason for us to keep her in the hospital much longer. She can return home with you so long as you’re there to watch her yourself. I would be surprised if any of her symptoms worsen at this point, but if anything concerns you, bring her back to the hospital. I’m being paged to the ER. I’m sure I’ll see you later. Dr. Hicks, a pleasure to meet you.”
When they were alone again, Dr. Hicks said, “All right, Savich, talk to me, tell me why I’m here. I know you’re worried about her, but that’s not all of it.”
“All right, if she still can’t remember when she wakes up, could you hypnotize her, help her piece her memory back together?”
“Ah, naturally, you would try to sort through every possibility. I could hypnotize her, of course, but I’d much rather err on the side of caution than plow ahead and try to attempt to force her to reconnect with all those memories before she’s ready. There’s a chance I might do harm. Her brain’s been badly shaken, shocked, and though the scans show no visible damage, there is damage nonetheless, too subtle to be seen. The brain is a wonder we barely understand, and it will repair itself without me. So let’s leave hypnosis off the table for the time being. We need to give her time, Savich, we need to simply wait.”
