“A famous one.”
Robert showed Debbie what he had found and told her Catherine and Gini were lobbying to get good medical care and insurance for children, especially the underprivileged and kids in the system.
“Isn’t she beautiful, Robert? I’m so proud of her. I wish she could have that life back. But I don’t think it will ever happen.”
“No. She may still make a difference in this world, but not as she was doing before.”
“Do you think this treatment was a good thing? It scared me to see her going through all of that.”
“We will just have to wait and see. We must keep trying new things to improve the quality of life for these people who suffer such disabling brain traumas. Without experimentation, we’ll have no progress.”
“I know, it was just hard to watch. I think of her as family.” She looked at Robert. “I have committed the great sin of getting too close to my patient. But I promise I will be able to let her go when the time comes.”
“Where do you see her going?”
“I want her in a group home rather than a nursing facility. She’s so social, Robert, she needs to be around people.”
“How about Ric? He wants to take care of her.”
“No way will he be able to, Robert! We must make sure he understands that before we release her. Him marrying her and going on as if nothing has happened is never going to happen.”
Gini moved on the bed some and made a few small noises, but she didn’t open her eyes or respond to Debbie. John arrived close to eleven o’clock. Gini was on her side with her knees bent toward her body, hands cocked at her chest, and head back with her mouth open. Saliva trickled out on a towel Debbie had put under her face.
He rubbed her arm and spoke to her in a quiet voice. She thrust her tongue for a second and resumed her position. “You rest, sweetie, rest.”
He informed Debbie she could be like that all day and maybe one or two days more. He put in an IV; she was still on oxygen.
That night both doctors arrived together. Debbie was trying to get Gini to drink some water.
“Come on, baby, remember how to swallow.”
Robert leaned toward John. “Now you’ll see Debbie work her magic.”
The water trickled out of Gini’s mouth; she was restless. Debbie put more water in using a straw and massaged down the front of her neck. After two more tries, Gini swallowed the water.
The doctors went into the living area and checked Gini’s chart for the day.
Debbie came out. “She’s been talking a little.”
“What’s she saying?” John asked, interested.
“Nothing understandable.”
He got up and went into the bedroom, the other two followed.
“Gini, it’s Dr. Meyer. Can you tell me your name?”
“La… ahb… la… ahb… oob.”
John gripped the bedrail and put his head back. She was still saying the words backward.
A couple of days went by. Each day Gini was more active. She moved all her limbs and had a stronger grip. Debbie was pleased. But Gini only spoke when Dr. Meyer was with her, and she pleaded for the blue ball. He became very concerned, working hour after hour trying to figure out what to do—losing sleep.
He and Dr. Steel had several conversations.
“I think the only solution is to let her have the blue ball,” Dr. Steel concluded.
“You mean another therapy? Won’t that be counterproductive?”
“No more sessions, just let her hold the ball. Make sure she knows it’s the blue one, since she’s asking for that one. It’s curious she’s having this kind of complication. Maybe since she doesn’t see so well, she thinks you did something with her blue ball that she can’t remember. Just let her hold it.”
John let Robert and Debbie know the plan. They all stood around Gini’s bed.
“Ee… M… nah… rah… cod… la… ahb… oob,” she begged. Her plea had been more intense each day.
“Okay, sweetie, I’m going to put the blue ball in your left hand.” He opened her palm and put the ball in it. “Hold the ball.”
Then he took the red ball and put it in her right hand.
Gini pushed on each ball with her palms, rolling them onto her body. She thrust her tongue for a long while. The other three stood silent. Debbie had her hands under her chin; John gripped the bedrail, and Robert watched with great interest.
She stopped thrusting, taking the balls back down to the bed and letting go. “Think… u… ock… tor… on… my.”
John wrapped his lips around his teeth and bit down to compose himself.
“You’re welcome, Gini. Very welcome.”
From then on, Gini never said another word backward.
John finished his case study on Gini and presented it to Dr. Steel. The treatments had improved Gini’s grip and hand coordination. She could sign much faster, and both her verbalizing and signing expressed more complete thoughts. Her walking was steadier and at a faster pace. Although she still kept her eyes closed most of the time, she seemed to be able to navigate through the unit without being guided.
Debbie concentrated on teaching her to feed herself. She could grip the mug with the lid; and with her hand under the handle, she could lift the cup to her mouth and drink. Debbie was so thrilled with that accomplishment, she once again had to call Robert and sing her praises. Robert had never seen such emotion from Debbie in all the years he had known her.
The next lessons were hygiene. But the mechanics of how to wash her hands or flush the toilet were beyond Gini’s comprehension. Debbie wouldn’t give up;
