As February arrived, the unit was once again busy with social visits. Gini was more independent every day and having longer conversations using signing, although it took some time for Debbie to figure out what Gini was trying to say, and a lot of times she just guessed. She was especially impressed Gini moved her arms and hands more.
When Robert stopped by, they played braille cards. As the time went on, he visited more and more—socially. He had pretty much figured out how to read the cards with his fingers, and he had been watching the signing DVDs.
Sitting on a boat for a week with nothing to think about except catching fish, he had dug deep inside himself, trying to find the answers. He was convinced his feelings for Gini were more pride and excitement than anything else. He was impressed he had the skills to save people’s lives—even someone he had thought was too damaged to recover—and he was witnessing the mending of an amazing woman’s brain right before his eyes.
Ric seemed to be on the same path as before, expecting that Gini would magically be the dynamic activist and socialite she was before the accident. Debbie had to continually talk to him about expecting too much of her. He was constantly correcting the way she said words and always looked to Debbie to translate the signing. She offered him the DVDs; he put off taking them, thinking in the future she would be talking fine, and signing wouldn’t be necessary.
Lisa visited a couple times a week so Debbie could run errands and get her hair done. The first moments off the unit were always disorienting. Debbie’s focus was so intense when she was with Gini—then suddenly she was out in the world, and there was so much else to look at and think about. She knew she needed the breaks, but she also loved the intensity of her work with Gini. It was so rewarding, and the intimacy between them was easy, even when Gini was having a hard time. Debbie never felt the irritation she had experienced with other patients. Maybe it was like having a child: all-consuming, often challenging, always worth it.
Robert showed up one night after Gini had gone to bed. It had been a grueling day. He enjoyed talking to Debbie and loved her coffee.
“Here you go, Robert. You look beat.”
“I am. I like being on the board, and I also love practicing medicine. But I think I’m beginning to realize I can’t do both effectively.” He looked at her. “How can I choose?”
“Will the board stuff slow down once you get the funding?”
“I’m not sure. It has been busy ever since I joined. How about you? Are you looking forward to being back on the team again?”
She smiled. “This has been the best experience ever. I have learned so much more about brain trauma. I always just got the patient to a point, and then they left me. Being with Gini full time has been priceless. The human brain is quite amazing. And now Gini is asking all kinds of questions about her injury and why certain things work while others don’t. I hope all my past patients have recovered like she has.”
On Valentine’s Day, Lisa took a big bouquet of flowers to Debbie and Gini—pink and lavender roses with a few white ones. She’d spent a long time choosing the colors, not wanting red because red was so obvious and reminded her of blood, not wanting just pink because that was boring. Debbie thanked her and put them in water.
Lisa stood waiting for a kiss from Debbie, but never got one. She hadn’t expected a card or a present, but a kiss wasn’t much, was it? She never got kisses or hugs from Debbie anymore. Okay, she knew they couldn’t show too much affection in the unit, but a quick kiss? And where were those two days a week Debbie was supposed to be home with her? She let out a breath and shrugged her shoulders. She didn’t want to be selfish.
Ric spent the whole evening with Gini at the unit, feeding her chocolates and reading love poetry. “Drink to me only with thine eyes, / And I will pledge with mine; / Or leave a kiss but in the cup, / And I’ll not look for wine.” He had bought her a pink silk bed jacket with flowers embroidered on the collar and cuffs. Gini smiled and smiled, and went to bed later than usual.
The next morning, Gini was very lethargic. Debbie figured it was because she’d gone to bed late, but when Gini still didn’t want to eat or get out of bed by eleven, she texted Robert. By the time he got there to see her, she was running a fever. Neither could get Gini to tell them where she felt bad. By four o’clock her fever was 103. Robert put in an IV. They started her on antibiotics and glucose to keep her blood sugar level. The blood work showed there was an infection.
Ric told them it was similar to when she suddenly got so sick the year before.
“Gini had the Coch virus?” Dr. Young asked.
“Yes, during the big blizzard last February. She got sick the same day her mother died. It was a bad day all the way around. Luckily, one of her neighbors was a doctor and took care of her. It was scary; because of the storm we couldn’t get her to the hospital.”
For three days, someone was by her bed. Ric stayed all day one of those days, holding her hand and reading to her. Finally, the fever came down, and all sighed a breath of relief.
Robert checked her vitals. He had put the end of his stethoscope in her left hand as he checked her eyes, ears, and throat. When he took the stethoscope from her
