| Subject: WTTS2 - 58 |
Author:
KT
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Date Posted: 20:46:28 01/11/02 Fri
In reply to:
KT
's message, "Window to the Soul 2" on 20:43:26 01/11/02 Fri
Window to the Soul 2 - Part 58
By KT
Copyright May 20, 2000
Author's Note: If you have not read Part One of this story, it would be good to do so, as there is no time lapse between the parts. It is archived at ranma's. {{{ranma}}}
* * * * * * * *
Nikita closed her eyes as Michael's affirmation of love draped over her. She nodded her head, intending to smile and reply, but she couldn't hold on to consciousness. As she drifted, she could hear voices in the room...
Michael turned as the door opened to find Dr. Spence and Dr. Herrington approaching. His face must have given them cause for alarm, as Spence quickened his step toward Nikita's bed. "She's losing consciousness," Michael heard himself needlessly describing the situation, surprised at the anxiety in his voice.
"How did you get in here?" Dr. Herrington asked, not unkindly, but his displeasure obvious.
Not wanting to get Jeanne in trouble, Michael told a white lie. "I let myself in after I saw the nurse leave." His face fell a bit. "I just had to see her... to see if she..." How could he tell the doctors what had happened? About Karen and her lies? About how Nikita and the others had suffered because of him?
Michael began to withdraw into himself, his expression becoming a careful mask. He couldn't confess, and started toward the door. "I'm sorry," he said, "I just had to see if she was all right."
Dr. Spence spoke up. "Just a moment, Mr...?"
"...Samuelle." Michael stopped walking and turned around.
"Was she awake when you came in?"
"Well, not exactly, but she came around shortly after I entered."
"And did she speak normally? Or move? Gesture? Any other motion?"
"Yes, she did speak. Normally. And she moved her arms." Michael looked at the doctors. "She... she did recognize me," he said, not realizing until that moment how relieved he'd been, even though Nikita's words had cut him deeply.
Dr. Spence nodded his acknowledgment. Herrington indicated to Michael that it was time for him to leave. "Thank you. We'd like to proceed with our post-op examination, if you don't mind."
Michael exited without another word. He turned into the hallway and collided with... "Walter!" Another body followed. Birkoff. Michael looked into their expectant faces and tried to rally his own emotions. He wasn't sure how much they knew.
Walter spoke up. "Paul Wolfe caught me at the Café and told me what happened. I got a hold of Seymour here, and we came down as quickly as we could." He hesitated, hoping that there was no really bad news.
Shame and guilt flashed over Michael's face. Walter gave him a minute to regain his composure, then took the plunge.
"Is Sugar OK?"
"Nikita is... alive," he began, but his voice cracked uncooperatively. He looked at Birkoff, then at Walter.
"Alive is good," Birkoff spoke quietly. He touched Michael's shoulder in a brief gesture of comfort, but withdrew when he felt him flinch.
Walter was reading the signs. It was apparent to him that Michael was in shock, and that he somehow felt responsible for what had happened. He took Michael's arm gently, and began steering him down the hallway. "Why don't we just go and sit somewhere, hmmm?"
* * * * * * * *
The doctors woke Nikita after Michael left. She opened her eyes slowly, and didn't seem able to focus on anything. After a moment, she took in their concerned faces, and mustered a faint smile. "Hullo." It was apparent that it took great effort for her to speak.
"Hello yourself." Dr. Spence placed his hand on her arm and introduced himself and Dr. Herrington. "We're the two surgeons who worked on you."
"Oh. It took two of you, huh?"
Dr. Herrington was impressed, liking Nikita immediately. Anyone who could make a joke after what she'd been through was OK in his book. He told her about her transfusions, and their procedures in the surgery. "We were afraid we were going to lose you for awhile there. I'm sorry, but we had to cut your hair."
"A small price to pay. Thank you for saving my life." She looked from one to the other. "So, what happens now?"
"Well, we need to perform some simple tests, and we need you to monitor your reactions. We'd like to be sure that you're not having any adverse reactions to the transfusions. Do you feel cold or sick to your stomach?" asked Dr. Spence.
Nikita nodded. "I've been nauseous, but I thought it was from the anesthesia." She paused. "I haven't felt cold, though. Kinda warm, actually."
The doctors looked at each other. Dr. Herrington moved down to the end of the bed, pulling the blankets off of her feet. "Nikita, could you please wiggle your toes for me?"
Her face wrinkled with concentration as she watched her toes. Her brain was sending the message, but there was no movement. Nikita drew in her breath as she tried once again.
"Sorry."
Dr. Herrington pulled a needle from the pocket of his surgical gown and gently scratched it over the bottom of her foot. "Can you feel this?" he asked calmly.
Nikita shook her head. The doctor picked up her leg and bent it at the knee, moving it back and forth. He set it down and invited her to make the same movement on her own. Nikita tried, but the leg didn't move. The doctor repeated the sequence with the other leg with the same result.
Nikita felt light-headed as she registered the staggering implication of the test. Her question came out in a raspy whisper. "My legs... I'm... paralyzed?"
Dr. Spence began carefully to explain. "We rather expected this, Nikita. You've experienced the most severe type of head trauma and blood loss. The location of the bruise to your brain is causing the loss of your lower body motor movements and will need time to heal. It's going to be a little while until your body recovers from these conditions."
He weighed his words as his eyes met hers. "Just how long is not a known quantity. These things tend to be unpredictable. I wish I could tell you how it will play out, but only the Almighty knows that."
As he watched, a numb expression crept over Nikita's face, and her eyes shuttered as she pulled back into herself. She clasped and unclasped her hands together, as if reassuring herself that at least her fingers were working. She didn't speak.
Herrington continued Spence's explanation. "We're going to put you into intensive physical therapy as soon as you feel strong enough. We believe this condition to be temporary, and that your ability to walk will return with the complete healing of your injury. In the meantime, you need to keep your muscles strong and your circulation stimulated. You'll need to work hard and be determined. Above all, you must have hope."
A minute of silence passed. Nikita sighed deeply. "Please. Don't tell my mother. Or anyone else. Please." Her voice was steel. "I'd like to deal with this in my own way."
"Of course," Herrington agreed. "But it won't be a secret for long." He tried to be kind.
The happiness she'd felt after Michael's visit was slowly trickling away. Her heart once again retreated to seclusion. This was that old familiar feeling come back again. This was something she understood.
Survival mode.
Remote. Self-contained. Disconnected.
She turned dispassionate eyes on the doctors and spoke without emotion. "Thank you for being honest with me."
"We'll be back to check on you and take you to your room. Your mother has requested that you share a room with her."
Nikita nodded. "Fine." She would have to be strong for Roberta. She wanted to weep, but no tears came. Her soul windows were shut down tight.
* * * * * * * *
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