Page 13 of Words Unspoken

“What?” a second voice came on the line.

Ann smiled for a moment. “Hi Max.”

“We are both in the conference room. No one else is here. Did you say surgery?” questioned Max.

“Yes,” Ann replied.

“For what?”

Ann bit her lip then steadily replied. “They found a mass in his brain. Two masses, actually. The surgeon took them out this morning.”

Michael wondered what time it was. He looked at his wrist automatically, but his watch was not there. He supposed it really didn’t matter. Ann saw what he was about and showed him hers. It was one of those digital Fitbit things. The numbers were mixed up. There was no way there was ninety-eight minutes in an hour. Michael looked at it in confusion before gently letting go of her wrist.

“Cancer?” Noah asked.

Ann looked at Michael. She didn’t know. Michael shrugged. He didn’t know. They would have to wait for the test results to come back.

“He doesn’t know yet.”

“Is he okay?” Max enquired.

There was a long pause before Max repeated the question. Michael certainly didn’t have an answer for that question either. He and Ann stared at each other.

“He is going to be okay,” Ann said shakily. She pulled her hand out of his and wiped a tear from her face. “I have to go.”

“Ann, what -” she clicked the end call button and then shut off her phone before tossing it back into her purse. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. “Oh, Michael.”

He slowly sat up and silently held out a hand to her. He ignored the dizziness and nausea as she took his hand and sat on the bed with him. She hugged him, resting her head on his collarbone, under his chin. He wished she is stay there forever.

“Dr. Hemmond gave me a list of all these complications that could happen. Strokes, aneurisms, seizures, infection from the surgery, the mass could be cancer…” she sniffled. “Don’t you dare die.”

Michael held her a little tighter. The ticking sound drew his attention to the wall, and he saw an analogue clock. He might not know if it was morning or afternoon, but he could read this clock. It was five, either am or pm. For a moment, he felt a little better. Then he saw a chart on the wall and none of it made any sense. There was his name, Michael, he recognized. After that, there were words written like they had been picked at random. Letters were not in order. He tried to reread his name, but it was now a mess as well. Maybe it was not his name after all written there. How could he be certain? Maybe his mind had played a trick on him. A ball of despair filled his stomach. Ann leaned back, looking at his face.

“Michael, what is it?” she asked softly, sensing something was wrong.

He gestured to the wall, the chart mocking him.

“The chart?” At his nod she began to read it. “It says your doctor is Dr. Hemmond. Your nurse is Kelly. That you have had brain surgery to remove two masses. That you are not to have any solids yet…”

She trailed off as he gulped in air. He could not read it. He could see it perfectly, but he could not read it. If he could not read, he could not write. He had written every single day since he learned how. He could not imagine not writing. An understanding of what he had truly lost grew darkly. He buried his aching head in her shoulder and the shattering sobs came. He would rather have the pounding migraines back with the dark specters chasing whoever they wished.

He could hear the nurse come in. She placed a hand on his shoulder and talked to Ann. Her voice was full of sympathy, “I am going to get Mr. Ramesly a sedative to help him rest.”

Michael felt Ann nod and he could hear the squeak of the nurse is shoes as she left. He was exhausted. He slumped against Ann, wiping his eyes and soon enough the little nurse returned. He assumed her name was Kelly. It said so on the board according to Ann. She helped Ann settle him back on the pillows. She held up a pill and the water.

He would have told her that it hurt too much to swallow but he had no words, so he simply took the pill and swallowed it with the water. He leaned back and closed his eyes, wishing this nightmare was over.

Kelly took Ann outside of the room and he could hear them discussing him. Something about speech therapy to find different ways to communicate around his new disability. Therapy or counselling for the likely depression that he might experience over the loss of being able to communicate effectively. Michael wanted to say that he could hear them. He wanted to say that his mind was not deficient in understanding exactly what was going on. He wanted to say that he was still here.

Of course, he said nothing at all.

∞

Ann listened to the nurse and thanked her for the pamphlets. She would add them to the growing number of papers in her purse. For some reason everyone seemed to assume she was his wife or long-term girlfriend. Ann did not dissuade them. It was easier to get admittance to Michael this way.

Kelly hesitated. “Perhaps, while he is sleeping you would like to have something to eat? Run a few errands? Go home and relax? He will be asleep for six or more hours likely which would give you some time to recharge.”

“Thank you but I think his brothers will be here soon,” Ann replied. She knew that Noah and Max would figure out which hospital Michael had been admitted to pretty quickly and were no doubt on their way.