Begin Again - (Chapter IV)
Disclaimer: I’m not a doctor and have very little medical knowledge, so I apologize for any mistakes
The Beginning
Oxford, England
He felt like he was floating, just beneath the surface of a lake, the buoyancy of his body bringing him closer and closer to the surface.
It was very similar to when you’re half asleep and it suddenly feels like you’re falling, but just before you hit the ground your body jerks you awake.
He didn’t remember much of the accident, but he did remember the weeks where he lived somewhere outside his body—the in between— and he remembered it vividly.
It was a sort of comfort, to wake up and be somewhat familiar with your surroundings. Not just waking up somewhere and having no idea how you got there in the first place.
Time had not been kind to him. He was once in peak condition, the perfect balance between muscle and fat. Now, he had been reduced to almost nothing. The only source of nutrition he had was a GI tube that snaked its way down from his nose into his stomach.
Lying in a hospital bed for months without leaving it for even a moment allowed his muscles to atrophy to nothing. He looked almost skeletal: the framework of his bones so clear and visible beneath the skin that he looked as though he would shatter if a fly landed on him.
His skin was once sun-kissed, though still pale. But now there was absolutely no color to him at all. He practically blended in with the stark-white of the hospital sheets.
His cheeks were gaunt, every socket and hollow in his skull pronounced as his skin clung to bone. His eyes were sunken into his skull, with deep dark bags just underneath.
He looked nothing like himself, he was quite literally a ghost.
Jenny was reduced to sobs when she saw him. The feeling bittersweet—because while he was finally awake after weeks of hoping and praying; they hardly recognized him.
It was different, seeing the man who she knew to be her brother inside this body. It wasn’t the same as looking at his inert form that never spoke or moved.
The only identifiable features that were pure Jamie was the short copper hair on his head that had been shaved when he arrived, and crystal blue eyes. And even then he looked an impostor.
Wee Jamie was terrified of his uncle, he refused to hug or even look at him. It pained all of them to see him react that way, because his uncle was once his favorite person in the world. But he was too young to comprehend the tragedy that had befallen him, and what time takes from a person who is completely helpless.
They all looked at him differently now. His father, Jenny, and Ian. They were grateful that God had returned him to them, but they would never look at him without thinking about the accident and the aftermath. It would plague them for the rest of their lives.
It made Jamie feel guilty. Not that anything that happened was his fault, but he couldn’t help but think that they would never be the same family they were.
But at least there was Claire.
“You’re awake!” She exclaimed with her eyes wide and a grin so big it was almost comical.
She’d heard the news a few hours earlier, but gave Jamie some time to get reacquainted with himself and his surroundings.
Jamie looked up from the book he was reading—though he had no idea what it was about, he just enjoyed the feeling of it in his hands.
He returned the smile in kind, “So I am.”
Claire made her way over to his bedside, quickly checking him over with her pen-light and stethoscope, making sure his vitals were somewhat normal before planting herself in the chair next to him.
Jamie exhaled with a small chuckle and placed the book on the bedside table. “Like I’ve been hit by a bus.”
She laughed and nervously attempted to smooth the creases in her scrubs before returning her gaze back to him. “Well, you’re not far off.” She paused for a moment, and took a breath.
“Do you remember anything? About the accident, I mean.”
Jamie sighed and closed his eyes, trying to think back. “No, not really. The last thing I remember was singing along to the radio on my way to work. Next thing I know i’m lying in a hospital bed attached to every machine on the planet.” He lifted an arm that was connected to an IV—along with a heartbeat monitor clipped to his finger—in example.
It wasn’t the full truth, but he wasn’t about to tell her that his ‘astral projection’ —or whatever the hell it might be—observed nearly everything that happened in between. The last thing he needed was to be committed to a psych ward.
Claire frowned and then shrugged, getting up and moving away from the chair. “Well, perhaps it’s better that way.” She gave him a friendly smile and took another step towards the door.
She hesitated, turning back to look at him.
Jamie cocked his head to the side in confusion after she didn’t say anything. “Is there something on my face?” He brought up a hand to wipe at his mouth before looking at it and finding nothing.
“No, it’s just… Now that you’re awake, there’s going to be a lot of physical therapy and all sorts of tests. The road back to recovery won’t be easy, and there will be times when you just want to give up. Just… try to remember that you’ve come back from the brink of death, and the worst is already behind you.”
At least I hope. She added, only to herself
She’d been right, it wasn’t easy. It was almost as if he’d been reborn and had to learn everything for the first time again.
It felt good to finally leave that bed, but he could hardly walk. His legs weren’t used to supporting his weight, thin as he was.
The first time he’d seen his reflection, he thought someone else was staring back at him, only to realize the wraith in the mirror was indeed him.
Everything took time, and Jamie was impatient. He’d already wasted three months of his life withering away to nothing, and now he had to work to get it all back.
But he was determined. Even if his body wouldn’t do what he was telling it to, he never gave up. He learned to appreciate all the little things in his life, because he knew it could all be gone in a second. He’d been lucky. Lucky that he hadn’t lost his life, or the ability to walk or think or talk. Because he knew that there were people who weren’t so lucky, and people who would never have a second chance.
Not once did he take it for granted. He would return to the man he had been, it all just took time.
Therapy was thorough and rigorous, but it needed to be. Although surgeons were able to set the bones in his hand, he had no use for it while he was comatose. Doctors would need to move and flex his hand for him, so it wouldn’t become stiff and immobile—so he would still have use of it in the hopes that he would wake up.
It was painful, working to try and get back to who he was before. His hand would never regain complete range of motion, but at least he could have some.
He would need to come to terms with the fact that it wasn’t possible to be who he was before. The accident happened, and he couldn’t just go back in time and undo it; as much as he might like to. His body bore plenty of scars that would be a constant reminder, it was a part of him now.
Claire visited him often—whenever she had the chance. She was no longer assigned to his case, and either way he would be discharged soon.
She always had some excuse to see him, but the real reason she kept to herself.
Jamie scrunched his nose and spit out the bland bread that he’d been chewing. “I’ve been here nigh on four months, and I still haven’t gotten used to the food.” He chuckled and wiped his mouth with a napkin.
“Technically seven,” She corrected. “And I don’t think it’s possible for anyone to get used to it.” Claire flashed him a smile, whiskey eyes sparkling.
He could stare into her eyes for hours and never tire of it. He wanted to drown in them.
“Aye, well. I think the first thing i’m doing once i’m out is getting a big, greasy hamburger with large fries. And a shake.” He had tried to wink, but it turned out to be more of a slow, owlish blink than anything.
She closed her eyes and smiled, her mouth watering at the thought.
At that moment her pager went off, announcing that she was needed elsewhere. She looked at it and frowned, returning her attention back to Jamie
“Well, that’s my cue. If I don’t see you before you’re discharged, just know that it was a pleasure to meet you, and I wish you the best of luck.”
Before Jamie even had the chance to respond, she was gone.
