Dr. Goodman appraised me with new eyes. Was there respect there? Or was it reproach? Some of each? I couldn’t tell.
“Well, Claire, thank you for telling me. I appreciate that. We do have to consider when to tell Greg that you are divorced. You have to understand, in his mind, you are not only married, you are happy. You were just pregnant. Telling him now might derail or at least set back his recovery. He’s just beginning to remember his old life. If we give him something that negative to think about, he might subconsciously choose not to remember it. Does that make sense?”
I nodded. “Yes, I think so.”
“As for a recovery plan and your involvement…” She sighed. “Generally, the family is very involved, almost a daily involvement at this stage. But I would have to strongly recommend against moving him closer to you at this point. His doctors and therapists are here. Right now, he’s comfortable here. Stress at this juncture is damning to recovery. I would plan on at least a month before he can be moved to New Jersey. Can you come on weekends? Or at least once a week for a month and we’ll see how he does?”
“Can I bring the kids?”
“Yes, without a doubt. Your visits, and especially with the children, will be instrumental in helping him regain his memory.” She paused. “Do they know?”
“No.” I felt the tears spring to my eyes, an automatic switch when I thought about the girls. I blinked to clear them. I needed solid strength. I stood. “Can I see him now?”
She nodded. “He will be here for about another two hours. Today is his half day. He’s been volunteering at the homeless shelter on Sundays, serving dinners.”
I was taken aback. The Greg I knew had never been particularly charitable.
“I assure you,” Dr. Goodman said, apparently catching my surprise, “your husband is a very different man from the one you knew.”
Greg sat at the table in the same room where we had met the previous day. Cards were laid out in front of him in a solitaire pattern.
He looked up ruefully. “I can’t remember the rules.” He waved his hands at the cards. “One of the nurses tried to teach me, but I can’t remember all the rules. I make up my own, I guess.” He pulled all the cards together before I could stop him, making a pile. Then, he shuffled them, dealer style.
I laughed. “That’s new,” I said, pointing at the cards. He looked confused. “You couldn’t do that. Before. Is that possible? Can you learn to shuffle cards in a coma?”
He shrugged, but grinned. “I don’t know. I wonder what else I can do now?” he shook his head, still shuffling the cards. “What could I do before?” He dealt four stacks of cards and then combined them, piling one on top of the other. Pile, pile, pile, pile, stack, stack, stack, stack. Over and over again.
I watched him, mesmerized by the rhythmic motion. “Oh. Greg,” I said after a few minutes, “you could do everything. I swear, it’s the truth. You were a corporate instructor. Did you know that? And just so great at it. You were so charismatic. You worked for Advent Pharmaceuticals. That’s how we met.” He nodded, but I couldn’t tell if he remembered, or if he was just listening. “What do you remember?” I asked.
“I remember doing that. Teaching adults. I wasn’t sure what I was doing until you said that, but I remember Advent. We met in a class?” He raised his hand. “Wait. You brought a book. And you came early, but you wouldn’t speak to me. I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. I could hardly talk. It was a few days, right?” I nodded, and he smiled, proud of his memory. “You still are. Beautiful.” He studied my face for so long that I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.
“Do you remember Sarah?”
He thought for a moment. “Yes! I do. She was with you the night we met. And she visits us sometimes. She’s fun, and a little crazy, right?”
I laughed and nodded. Yes, that summed up Sarah pretty well.
Dr. Goodman poked her head in and asked, “How are things going in here?”
Greg nodded enthusiastically. “I remembered how we met.”
“Good! That’s great. Claire, this is the kind of therapy a doctor or a therapist cannot provide. Specific experience memory is so tricky. With some patients, it takes years to come back, and with others, it’s like this.” She snapped her fingers. “Greg, we have to move on. Dr. Welk is only here for a bit, so we have to meet him when we can. Claire, can I have a quick word with you?”
We walked down the hall a bit, and she turned to face me. “He needs this. What is your plan, exactly?”
I had been thinking about it during my visit with Greg. “I’ll be back next weekend with the girls. And every weekend until he can come back to New Jersey. After that…?” I shrugged. “I haven’t figured it out yet, but we’ll take it one day at a time.”
Dr. Goodman squeezed my arm. Her hand was warm, and I was surprised; I expected ice. We walked back to the room so I could say goodbye to Greg.