To her surprise, Jessie was sitting in the chair beside her bed, holding her hand on and off. Something about this was odd but she couldn’t determine what. Thankfully she knew who Jessie was. Then she was suddenly aware that she had a cell phone and believed, for a moment, that the number was forever lost. Every time one of these passing thoughts occurred to her she’d try to sit up or get out of the bed. She’d thrash about until someone gently pushed her shoulders back onto the bed.
Then she opened her eyes, noticed that the room was darkened; there was a night-light casting a dim glow into the room and Jessie seemed to have a light blanket draped around her shoulders. Anna laid very still, appreciated the sight of her daughter resting in the chair. She thought maybe Jessie had been with her a full day but the last thing she remembered was being home. She’d been with someone. Was it Chad? No, Chad was not with them anymore.
Jessie opened her eyes, looked at Anna but didn’t move. “I am a judge,” Anna said calmly and with only a very slight slur.
“That you are,” Jessie said. “How do you feel?”
“Very sleepy. What happened?”
“You had a stroke but the super-clot-buster drug was administered in time and I think you’re going to be fine. Aside from a lot of confusion, it appears you survived it without much consequence. I don’t see any paralysis or drooping.”
“I don’t remember,” she said.
“Do you remember the ambulance?” Jessie asked.
Anna didn’t trust her speech quite yet so she just shook her head.
“It may or may not come back to you. You might never recall the event but other things will come back. You’ll be evaluated by the neurologist to see if there was any damage. I imagine there will be a CT scan. For right now, you can take a rest.”
“I have a phone,” she said.
“Yes,” Jessie said. “When you’re more alert, I’ll give it to you.”
“I was at home,” Anna said.
“Yes, I was with you. I brought you to the hospital in the ambulance.”
“And you’ve been here?”
“Yes. This is our second day. You’ve been sleepy and confused but I do think the confusion is lifting and the fog is clearing.”
“Have I eaten?” Anna asked.
Jessie smiled. “No, just fluids. Are you hungry?”
“I think so,” she said. “Can I get up now?”
“Let me help you sit up, but please don’t get out of bed yet. One thing at a time. I’ll see you get something to eat.” Jessie helped her sit up, did some magic to make the back of the bed raise, and a woman wearing scrubs appeared. “My mother is starting to talk now. Can you let the doctor know? And can we get her something to eat? Maybe toast or gelatin or something like that.”
“I hate gelatin,” Anna said. “I read that it’s made from the toe-jam of horses...”
Jessie laughed. “I don’t think horses have toes,” Jessie said. And to the woman she said, “Maybe we should make that ice cream.”
“And coffee. With cream and sugar,” Anna said.
Jessie frowned. “You don’t take cream and sugar.”
“I do today. How long have you been here?” she asked, not realizing she was repeating herself.
“This is my second day here with you. It takes a while after a blood clot for the brain to untangle but it doesn’t appear you’ve had much, if any, damage. Your speech is quite clear now.”
“It wasn’t before?”
Jessie shook her head. “It was another language entirely, though not a known language. Scrambled. Very typical, Mom.”
When the ice cream and coffee arrived, Jessie asked the nurse to stay with Anna so she could step out of the room and make a couple of calls. And suddenly something came to Anna and she said, “Jessie! Are you calling Michael?”
“Of course,” she said. “He’ll be so thrilled to hear you’re sitting up and talking.”
“Jessie, Michael needs something. He’s in trouble or something! I can’t remember what but I think it’s urgent!”
“We’ll take care of it, Mom. Don’t worry. Michael is fine. Just worried about you.”
“But what’s wrong?”
“We’ll go over all of that a little later. Try out that ice cream.”
A parade of people followed the ice cream—nurses, therapists, doctors—all checking on Anna’s progress, asking her questions and patiently telling her what to expect in the coming days. The important information she got out of the long stream of visitors was that she would be evaluated for possible damage caused by the stroke and registered for physical, speech and occupational therapy as needed for as long as necessary.
She wanted to go home but was repeatedly told it would be another day or two until more information about her condition could be gathered.
Jessie was finally persuaded to leave, though she promised Anna she’d be back after picking up her car and getting a change of clothes.
A man in scrubs came into the room. Anna was gripping her phone in her hand and she thought she recognized the man, but she just shook her head.
“I’m Patrick Monahan. I know Jessie and she called me when you were having a stroke. I’ve been here several times but you’ve been a little confused and sleepy. That’s predictable, by the way.”
“I have a cell phone,” she said, then thought how stupid that sounded.
He smiled, put his hands in his pant pockets and rocked back on his heels. She briefly thought how handsome he was. “Good,” he said.
“How does it work?” she asked.
“Give yourself another few hours, don’t worry about it or think about it, and it will begin to work.”
“Why are you here?”
“Jessie is a friend and I’ve known her awhile now. She called me when you were in crisis and I promised to follow your progress, which has been great, by the way.”
Suddenly she recalled Judge William Andrews, the man who medically retired, leaving a vacancy in the Superior Court that she filled. The memory and the fact that she recalled it when she still wasn’t sure how to operate her phone startled her. And Judge Andrews had had a stroke, was confined to a wheelchair, could not walk and could barely speak. He was older, but how could that be determined to be good news? She was only fifty-seven and did not want to end her career nor her active life just yet.
“Why did I have a stroke?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “The neurologists will look into the possibilities. Your blood pressure wasn’t high that anyone knew of. Perhaps a genetic predisposition? We may not find a definitive answer but the real challenge now is to be sure a second stroke is prevented. With the right medication and regular exams, your prognosis is excellent.” He smiled and took her hand. “I think you’re going to be fine, Anna. Is it all right that I call you Anna?”
“Yes, of course. It’s just that I have so much left to do.”
“I think that’s a good thing. We’re here to make sure you have the time to do it.”
Those should have been comforting words and Anna was glad he had stopped by to try to reassure her, but she just could not get Judge Andrews off her mind. She had visited him in a nursing home after his stroke and he was in terrible shape without much hope of getting better, and that was three years ago! The fact that Judge Andrews was a good thirty years older than Anna did not give her much comfort. In fact, in some ways it was harder. The thought of having another stroke and being unable to work or even enjoy life for decades was terrifying.
Worst of all, Anna, the most capable woman, had pride that bit at her and she couldn’t fathom being a burden to her family.
The nurses got her up and walking, using the restroom; she had a little dinner and while she was oddly off balance, weak and everything felt awkward, at least she was out of bed. All she could think about was her fear of a debilitating stroke, one that left her helpless and crippled.
And then toward the end of the day, while she sat up in her bed trying to remember how to use her phone, reading through the many old text messages, Joe walked into her room. She looked up at him, instantly remembered their last time together and held out her arms.
“Joe!” she said.
He went to her, sat on the edge of her bed and embraced her. She put her head on his shoulder and began to cry softly.
“Am I going to be okay?” she asked.
“Yes, Anna. It appears they got to it in time and the drug—TPA—successfully broke up the clot. You’ll have some therapy but you’re very lucky. Thanks to Jessie’s quick thinking, I believe.”
“I can go back to work?” she asked. “I’ve forgotten things.”
“Things that will either come back or you can relearn.”
“We were together,” she said.
“Yes,” he confirmed. “The night before. And your kids all dropped in unexpectedly so the cat’s out of the bag on us.”
“Was it Sunday morning?” she asked.
He nodded. “Bess had some kind of breakdown, an anxiety attack over school. Michael has been with her at your house ever since. Jessie has been checking in on them by phone, making sure Bess is okay and filling them in on your progress. I wanted to be here with you sooner, but I was told you weren’t allowed visitors until your condition was properly evaluated. You’ve been in very good hands, I take it.”
“But Jessie has to go to work!” Anna said.
“I think everyone is taking time off right now,” he said. “You’re a priority.”