Struck by Douglas Segal

Author:Douglas Segal
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781945551390
Publisher: Prospect Park Books
Published: 2018-07-11T00:00:00+00:00

days 40–42

Could the fog be lifting?

By today’s indications, I would say so.

After receiving my usual 5:45 a.m. phone call asking where I was and what I was doing, I reminded Susan that I had to take Michael to the bus and then I would be coming to see her. She asked if I would please bring her some underwear, her sweatpants, her headset (because the phone is heavy), and a T-shirt. I told her I would, even though, other than the headset, I knew they would all just sit in a bag in her room. But at least they’d be there if she asked. And so I started the day, expecting it would be similar to the last few, which have been a mix of ups and downs.

Her physical condition has generally been progressing, but mentally she still has had bouts of agitation and anger, insisting she’s allowed to drink, that she’s gotten up and walked around, even showered and washed her hair. There also remains a great deal of frustration about not being able to go home.

“You get to be at home with the kids. Why can’t I? It’s not fair!”

She’s right. “Fair” is the last thing any of this is.

I tried to explain, though much of it was met with, “I don’t want to hear any more of your bullshit!”

One thing I’ve definitely noticed is that she’s far more agitated when she doesn’t do any physical therapy. Just sitting up in bed and exercising her legs can be so demanding that it takes the edge off the anger, so even when PT doesn’t come in, the nurses and I now sit her up in bed ourselves. It’s in these moments she usually realizes that she’s just not ready to walk yet.

Meanwhile, the ice chips have happily progressed into little sips of water a couple of times a day. Whereas just days earlier, those chips were such sweet, refreshing salvation, Susan is now spoiled by the water and relents to having to settle for an ice chip. It doesn’t stop her from trying for more.

The other day her friend Deb came to visit, and Susan, when she thought I wasn’t looking or paying attention, motioned for Deb to come closer and lean in. Deb could immediately tell there was something shifty about her demeanor and wondered what she could possibly want. After all, every painkiller imaginable was available to her. All she had to do was ask.

Meanwhile, Deb bent down and Susan whispered, “I need you to get something for me.”

“What is it?” Deb asked, panicking over what kind of illicit contraband her dear friend was going to be counting on her to provide.

“I need you to sneak me in a couple of Diet Cokes.”

Oh, my God, will this never end?!

In addition to the battle over the liquids, I keep waiting for the confinement of the halo to set her off. Occasionally, she’ll complain about its weight, the heaviness on her chest, and, of course, the pins in her head, but overall she’s been tolerating it fairly well.

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