“If your brother doesn’t wake up within the next two weeks, we may have to think about transferring him to the long-term care facility for extra services, Ms. Weaver.”
Dr. Connelly’s words hit Zoe with the force of a wrecking ball. For a moment, her legs threatened to give way. She gripped the end of the bed in an attempt to retain her balance.
“You’re giving up on him,” her tone sounded hollow.
“No. But we do need the bed on this floor for more critical patients. Had there been a bed available we would have already transferred him to the brain injury care facility, where he could get more intensive services than we can provide here.”
Anger pushed through the shock she attempted to absorb. “Those facilities are just warehouses, Dr. Connelly, and you know it.”
The doctor’s eyes focused on her face. “Not here, Zoe. We have a state of the art facility. They’ll provide him with more of the physical therapy you’ve been doing with him yourself, as well as other services.” He paused, then looked down at Brett’s chart. “There are some medications I want to try on your brother to stimulate him, and see if we can wake him up. Some do have a few side effects, but for the most part the benefits would out-weigh the risks.”
She studied the doctor’s face searching for any kind of hope to hang onto, but his expression remained neutral. “When will you try them?”
“I’ll get the paperwork started as soon as rounds end.” He paused. “This is not like a TV movie. We’ll begin with one medication, and may have to try several before one works.”
“All right.” As the sudden rush of adrenaline eased off, she began to tremble. She folded her arms against her waist to hide her reaction.
Connelly laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I have to warn you about all the possibilities, Zoe. To drop it on you later would be like dropping a bomb on you. You’ve thought about what it would be like--should things not progress as we’d like.”
Despair threatened to smother her hope. “Brett is going to wake up.” When the words came out flat and without her normal positive exuberance, she cleared her throat and said it again with more conviction. “Brett is going to wake up.”
Connelly nodded his gray head briefly. “A nurse will be in to administer the first round of medication within the hour.”
As he and the nurse left, a wave of dizziness tackled Zoe and she had to brace her hands on her knees. Brett had to wake up. This had to work. She wouldn’t be able to bear it otherwise.