“Okay, so we are going to test today how much you are actually able to commute,” Dr. Harley says to me. “It will be very simple. I hill hold up some flash cards with some simple words on them. All you have to do is try and say the word.”
“Ok, simple enough,” I type.
Dr. Harley holds up the first flash card. “Aaag,” I say. Dog is what it says dammit! I say to myself.
“Good, now try really concentrating on all the sounds of the letters before saying them,” Dr. Harley tells me.
“Dddgg.,” I say. Okay that was somewhat better. I still sound like a friggin dork.
“Much better!” he exclaims. “I am going to move on to the next card now. Again, before you speak, focus on each letter.”
“Caa,” I say. This goes on for about another 10 min. Every few cards, the words get progressively harder.
“Can we just stop?” I type.
“Just a few more minutes,” he tells me.
“My head hurts just thinking. I sound ridiculous! How does this even help me?” I type.
Dr. Harley sets down his clipboard and looks at me. “I know that this is frustrating for you, but these tests help me to see how much damage was really done. How much you are capable of on your own. Maybe there is little damage, enough for you to recover yourself. Maybe it’s not possible to recover naturally and a surgery needs to be performed. We won’t be able to tell if you don’t try these tests. Please try Aden. Before making any decisions, we need to figure out what exactly is the problem. I don’t want to operate and complicate the situation any more or just leave you, thinking speech therapy will help when it won’t. If not for me, do this for Riley.”
I want to flip the keyboard off my lap and throw Dr. Harley’s clipboard across the room. I know this has to be done, but he doesn’t understand how hard it is. Why does he have to bring Riley into this? All the blood in my body feels like its boiling. I know it is silly for me to feel like this, but I can’t handle it. I have never been the patient type.
“Can I at least have 5 min. to myself?” I type.
“Sure, but only if you promise to continue afterward,” he says to me.
“Thank you,” I type.
“I am going to go grab a coffee from the cafeteria. Do you want me to bring you one?” Dr. Harley asks.
“No thank,.” I reply.
Dr. Harley sets down his glasses and clipboard on the counter across the room and leaves. I just need a few minutes to calm down. I didn’t think I would ever get overwhelmed over such a simple thing as this. The doctor just needs me to cooperate and that’s it. All I have to do is just try and say the words. It reminds me of when I was back in kindergarten. The class was being taught to match the color with the word. I wasn’t paying much attention to the teacher because I was too busy thinking about what I was going to do at recess. Just before the bell rang, Ms. Lilly said we had to match at least one word to the matching color before we could go for recess. I got so frustrated with myself because all I wanted to do was go for recess, but I couldn’t match the right color to the right word. I didn’t get to go for recess that day, all because I didn’t just focus and actually try. All I was focused on was the fun part. I don’t want to miss out again. I need to just put all this frustration away and just do the tests, no matter how silly they are or how stupid I sound doing them. Dr. Harley is right. I need to do this for Riley. How else am I supposed to propose to her? I can use this machine forever, or she can hear it coming from me. My voice. I am the only one getting in the way.
I hear the door creak open. “Are we all ready to have another try?” Dr. Harley asks.
I nod my head.
“Let’s get started then,” he says. “There are only about ten more to go through.
As every minute passes by, I see the doctor jotting notes down and nodding his head. I wonder if that is good or bad.
“When you speak, do you feel like you have some control of what you say?” Dr. Harley asks. “You can use the computer to answer this question.”
“I know exactly what it says, but it almost feels like there is a delay between my thoughts and what comes out. Like there is a gap,” I type.
“What do you mean by gap?” He inquires.
“Like some sounds come out the way I would want to say them, like the d in dog, but then I have no control of what comes out after. It’s like whatever my mouth feels like saying comes out,” I type.
He scribbles down something else on his clipboard. “I want to continue on with these exercises for about 3 weeks. I would like to do them with you at least once a day. I want to see if you are able to fill in that gap yourself over time. From what you are telling me, it seems that your brain is trying to recover itself. It won’t heal if you don’t try, so I need you to try hard just like you did today. If you give up, your brain gives up too.”
“I understand,” I type.
Dr. Harley gets out of his chair and pushes it back. He comes over to me and gives me a pat on the shoulder. “You did well today. I am becoming more and more confident in your recovery.” He walks back across the room and gathers his things together. “Same time tomorrow?”
“You bet,” I type and give him a nod.
Just as he leaves, I hear my phone buzz on the night table beside me. I pick it up. Ethan’s name pops up on the screen. Underneath it reads, Hey man, have any plans this evening?
I click reply, If lying in a hospital bed watching the news all evening counts as plans then, yes I have plans.
Ping, my phone chimes, I will be over around 6 with pizza. Sam and Riley will be joining us, Ethan replies.
I text back, giving a thumbs up. It will be nice having the whole gang here eating pizza. Just like a normal Friday evening. At least some things haven’t changed.