Chapter Ten

The next scan Dax received showed that there was no permanent damage to his neck. He was bruised and sore, but the swelling quickly went down. For the first few days after the accident, when he was unconscious, doctors were frustrated by the lack of healing deep inside. It meant they couldn’t read the scans underneath all the inflammation. However, once awake, Dax was determined to do everything he could to heal quickly. He began to eat and drink, although sparingly, given that he was unable to get himself off the bed and go to the bathroom. All the money in the world couldn’t make up for the embarrassment of someone else having to deal with that side of things.

He lay on his back and concentrated on what he could feel, often refusing pain medication despite the healing nerves causing agony to flood through him with even the slightest movement. His left arm was the only limb to come through the accident relatively unscathed, and he used it one morning to take a mirror from his mom and look at his face.

The stitches in his forehead and cheek explained the itchy, stinging pain he felt every time he frowned, or cried, or even smiled. They were only small cuts, neatly sewn up, and would leave only the tiniest trace of a scar once fully healed. The nurses explained he’d be given a special gel made from cortisone that would also aid in the fading of the scars.

His face was the least of his worries. His right arm was pinned together under the cast, and he ached to scratch it. He sweated with frustration when he couldn’t move to alleviate the itch, and at one point the agony of both his body and his predicament welled up inside him that he took in a deep breath and bellowed toward the ceiling in a fit of rage. His mom appeared at his bedside immediately, and stroked his face. He batted her away with his left arm. “Leave me alone,” he said. “I can’t fucking move. I can’t fucking go to the bathroom on my own. I can’t even fucking scratch my own damn arm goddammit!”

There was a cup of water on a tray over him and he knocked it away in anger. His mom said nothing, then left the room. She returned with Doctor Pravenda. Like a chastened child, Dax was silent, his lips together in a pout. “Good morning,” said the doctor cheerfully. “I was just on my way to see you. Your scan from yesterday seems to show a marked improvement in the swelling, and we have a better idea of how to go forward. How about we have a chat?”

“Yes, please,” said Dax. “I heard yesterday that my neck is fine.”

Doctor Pravenda nodded. “That’s right. The good news is that when you were first attended to by the paramedics, you were breathing on your own, and you were trying to move. This is an excellent sign. It meant that we didn’t have to breathe manually for you, or do what we call a jaw thrust, where we push your jaw forward and insert a breathing tube. It also meant that because you were breathing on your own, we were less worried about something called ischemia. Do you know what that is?”

“No,” Dax replied. He noticed that as he spoke, he also shook his head, as though to re-emphasize the point. It was something many people did every day, but took for granted. But as he moved his neck, he noticed that he wasn’t in any pain. He mentioned this to Doctor Pravenda.

“That’s good,” she said. “It confirms what we know from your scans. I think the reason you’re going to heal more quickly than others is because you’ve not had any trouble breathing. As I was saying, ischemia is when the blood vessels die from a lack of oxygen. It’s very common in patients with spinal cord injury, because their diaphragm no longer has nerves, and it basically forgets to do its job. But your breathing is excellent, and we haven’t had to give you much help with that at all, apart from some extra oxygen in the ambulance to keep you stable before we knew exactly how to proceed.”

Dax liked her voice, its softness mixed with clarity. He trusted the doctor, and hung onto every word. She seemed positive, and he believed that she could cure him. “What’s next?” he asked.

“The best news we’ve had in the last week is that you haven’t severed your spinal cord. When you have so much inflammation it’s difficult to know what’s bruising, and what’s permanent damage. Now, we have two specialists looking at every scan over and over again but comparing them to those we took last week there’s already a marked improvement.”

“Really?” Dax was overwhelmed. He let out a deep breath in a long, low whistle. “I’ll walk again?”

Doctor Pravenda smiled. “Didn’t I say we wouldn’t let that happen?” she asked.

“Yeah, but it’s going to take more than optimism,” Dax said, soberly.

“You’ve already taken the decision to lower your pain medication,” the doctor went on, “which I think shows a real determination and a desire to get well. But you don’t have to be a hero all the time. Take the medication. I believe that you will walk again. I believe that you can recover from your injury, but it won’t be pain free.”

She reached under the bed and pulled out a white board, and a pen. “We use these to help our patients understand their injuries,” she said. She drew a crude picture of a man standing to the side, his spine curving naturally from the shoulders to the hips. “The back is made up of five parts. The cervical, thoracic, lumbar, sacrum and coccyx. Altogether, they make up the thirty-three bones of your spine. You’ve broken three of the twelve pieces of the spine in the lumbar region. Here.”

She drew a circle around the segments of the spine. Behind them ran a thin line. “This is your spinal cord,” she said. “It runs down these vertebrae. Now, when you went through the windscreen, there was every chance you could have done so much damage that the broken vertebrae would have sliced through the spine and severed it completely. We knew this hadn’t happened because the rest of your vital signs were good, and as I said earlier, you were breathing on your own. So the broken pieces of your spine are simply that. Broken. Broken bones heal. Broken spinal cords do not. Thankfully, only your bones are broken.”

“Well, I’ve got to say that’s a relief,” Dax said. “I mean, I can’t even tell you how much. One thing confuses me though. If I’m only bruised, then why can’t I feel anything? You could have cut both my legs off and I wouldn’t know.”

“I can assure you that we haven’t done that,” Doctor Pravenda said. “But the numbness is the body’s way of dealing with the shock to your spine. Just like us, your brain didn’t know what damage your spine has, so it shut off everything in the lower half of your body. If it hadn’t switched it off, you’d be in agony. Now, as the nerves heal and begin to transmit sensations once again, this is when you’ll begin to feel a whole range of strange things down there.”

“Like what?”

“You’ll feel pins and needles, prickling, and maybe you’ll feel your toes one day and then you won’t feel them again until the following day. Sometimes it may be like an icy hand moving up your legs, and other times it might be like a red hot poker in your ass.”

She paused. “The hardest bit comes when the recovery really starts, Mr. Monroe. I’d like you to keep taking your pain medication when it’s prescribed, so that you can get all the rest you can and save your strength for when you’re going to need it the most.”

“Aren’t those pills really addictive, though?”

Dr. Pravenda was quiet for a moment, and then she gave a small nod. “They can be,” she said. “You’re right. But we have you on a very managed plan, with the best doctors, and I believe that if you feel you can cope without medication for now, then that’s great. But what I suggest is that you don’t battle the pain without a little help. There’s no shame in it.”

“I hear you, Doc,” Dax said. “But for now, I think I’m happy taking the lower dose.”

She seemed satisfied with this, and Dax relaxed when he knew both he and his doctor were being honest with each other. If he were able to, he would have reached up and kissed her when she gave him the best news he’d had all day; better, even, than hearing he would indeed walk again. “How about we remove this collar?” she asked.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.” Doctor Pravenda smiled her friendly smile. “We have enough evidence to show that your neck is only bruised, but isn’t in any danger of further injury. Let’s get this off.”

She fetched a spare pillow and gently tucked it under his head, moving his neck forward enough so that Dax was able to see something other than the ceiling for the first time since his accident. The pillow was so soft and luxurious he was sure his head had never felt anything more wonderful. And then, with a ripping of hook-and-loop fastening and a clicking of plastic, his neck was free, the warm air touching his skin.

With his good arm, Dax reached up and stroked his neck, gently prodding it. “Let me do that,” said the Doctor, and her cool fingers pressed him along either side of his spine, watching his reactions and listening for any cries or grunts of pain. Satisfied, she raised the pillow a little more, and held onto the brace. “You don’t need this,” she said. “I’m happy we have other things to begin to work on, and you should be in a little less discomfort, now.”

“Thank you,” Dax said, genuinely grateful. “I feel better just getting that off.”

“Great,” said the doctor. “Keep talking to us, keep communicating with us, and tell us if you’re in pain. I don’t have to tell you that you’re in the best hospital money can buy, so don’t be shy, okay?”

And she winked at him, and with a pat on the arm, she left the room.

When his mom and Kelly came back in again, Dax looked at them sheepishly. He felt guilty for his earlier outburst, but it seemed all was forgotten. Their faces were bright with the joy of seeing him sitting up for the first time since the accident, and his mom was so thrilled to hear that he would walk again that she burst into tears, which made Kelly begin to cry, too, and before long, all three of them were weeping.

Dax brushed the tears from his face with his good hand and set his jaw in determination. “I’m going to get through this,” he said. “I’m going to pick up where I left off and it’s going to be nothing more than a rest period for me. The time I’m going to use to get well is the time I should have had as a vacation anyway. As soon as I’m well enough to fly, let’s get the plane back to the states and I can get the right therapists and this time next year, I’ll be back for another sell-out tour, right?”

He looked at Kelly, and noticed the smile on her face seemed more forced than it had been earlier. “What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said, but her voice gave her away.

“Tell me,” said Dax. “I need to hear it. I know there’s something you’ve been keeping from me.”

When his mom didn’t leave the room, Dax knew she already knew what it was everyone seemed to know. Everyone but him. He frowned, and listened as Kelly began to speak.