“I could have been paralyzed! In a wheelchair for the rest of my life!”
“Shows you how little control we actually have,” he said, holding her close. “If you’d been alone, this could have gone badly.”
“Where is Jessie?” Anna asked.
“She’s in the hall. I passed her on my way into your room. I think she’s giving us a few minutes alone. And we need a lot more than a few minutes. When you get through the next days or weeks or whatever, when you’re feeling better and more secure, we’ll take a vacation.”
“Are you crazy?” she asked. “I can’t remember my cell phone number! Well, I couldn’t, then Jessie told me... My brain has been a mess! How am I going to go back to work?” She was thinking, desperately, I’m only fifty-seven and just survived a life-threatening stroke!
“It’s going to be all right,” Joe said. “But don’t worry about making plans. You’re going to have to get through this, get acclimated at home and work, and soon life will seem normal again.”
“I hope so,” she said.
Leaving the hospital was almost as traumatic as waking up in the hospital. Anna was really depleted in the confidence department. Armed with a treatment plan that included regular visits with a neurology team, medication for her blood pressure and blood thinners and regular appointments with speech and physical therapists, not to mention her very own internist, she was released. Regular checkups and scans would reveal any new clotting issues but her doctor was very optimistic.
To err on the side of caution, she wasn’t going to be driving herself for a month at least. If she went into the city for appointments, Jessie would take her or she’d grab an Uber. Her legs were weak, unsteady, and she went home with a walker. She wouldn’t be going back to work until she felt confident about her cognitive skills and her memory and judgment, but Phoebe was willing to bring work home to her and even work with her.
“And what about Joe?” Jessie asked as she drove Anna back to Mill Valley.
“What about him?”
“I hadn’t wanted to pry, but are you serious?”
“No,” Anna said quickly. “I mean, yes. I mean, no. Oh, dear, I don’t know. I’ve always loved Joe but never thought of it in romantic terms, and really, we were literally propping each other up after your father’s death when the idea of a romance presented itself. And now... Now the idea is almost terrifying. It is to me, anyway. And it should be to Joe.”
“But why?” Jessie asked. “He was so worried about you! He plans to come over tonight!”
“I don’t want to get serious about a man and stick him with a woman who can’t walk or talk or tie her own shoes!”
“I know you’re worried about another stroke, but the odds are good that with the right follow-up treatment, you’re safe from that. Mom, you’re still young. You have a lot of very functional years left if you take care of yourself and I mean to help you do that.”
“Jess, you have to get back to your practice!”
“I will, but not until I’m comfortable that you’re capable of taking care of yourself!”
Her instincts told her to argue that she was perfectly capable, but she was suffering a lack of bravado. “Thank you,” she said in a voice even she didn’t recognize. It was not the strong voice she usually used. “The truth is, that whole thing scared me.”
“Of course it did.”
“Oh God, there is so much to do. So much to talk about!”
“I gathered that,” Jessie said. “Something about a baby...”
“Where did you get that?” Anna asked.
“You did a lot of babbling, most of it nonsensical. I wasn’t sure if it had any real meaning or not. You recited numbers all through the night.”
She had to talk to her kids. She had to call Amy, fill her in. But first the business at hand. “Is Michael all right? And Bess?”
“I’m going to be straight with you and I hope you can handle it. Bess needs some follow-up, maybe a program and regular meds. Your stroke really threw her and she hasn’t left your house since it happened. That’s okay, she can get beyond this, but a great deal of pressure isn’t good for someone as mentally delicate as Bess. On the one hand, she’s an intellectual giant, and on the other, a little girl with little impulse control. I’m looking into the right program for her and she’s taking a leave from law school for now.
“As for Michael, he’ll be fine. He just has a few challenges in the love department. He was all set to settle down with Jenn, then Dad died and Michael lost his mind a little bit. He broke up with her, regrets it hugely, tried to slap it back together and just made it worse. Jenn wasn’t having it. She was very disappointed he bailed on her when things got tough.” Jessie looked over at Anna. “You should have told me, Mama. Men are weak.”
Anna sighed heavily. “Not all men,” Anna said. And she thought, Just some of the men we’ve relied on.
It was the very next day that Anna called Joe. He was delighted to hear her voice even though he said, “I’m just between classes so can we talk later?”
“Of course,” she said. “I’m home now and struggling with fatigue and still there’s some confusion. I want to explain something quickly, while I can think. I live in constant worry of another stroke, and if there is one, it could go so badly. So please know that I appreciate you and love you as I always have, but I can’t even think about a serious relationship until I’m fully recovered and there’s no danger of me being a crippled woman for decades.”
Joe actually chuckled. “But of course we can talk on the phone while you’re busy controlling the future.”
“You make fun of me now, but you might thank me some day.”
“Whatever makes you comfortable, Anna. I’d like to see you.”
“My kids are staying with me now,” she said.
“I’ve always been welcome in your house in the past,” he said. “I’m sure I can behave honorably in front of the kids. I’ve known them since they were born.”
“I just don’t want you to have any expectations!”
“God forbid!” he said, but he laughed.
Anna sat at Chad’s desk, facing the computer monitor. She never liked using his office for any reason. For so many years it was off-limits because his counseling work was strictly confidential. She faced the man’s face for the video conference.
“I suppose I should thank you for seeing me this way,” Anna said to the man. “It saves me a trip into the city. But I’m not sure this is necessary.”
“It’s nice to meet you, your honor,” he said, offering a warm smile. “We meet at the suggestion of your daughter. I’m Dr. Tom Norton.”
“How do you know my daughter?” Anna asked.
“Didn’t Jessie tell you how we met?”
“I’m very forgetful these days,” Anna said, though truthfully she had recovered most of her memory. Just the few days surrounding the stroke were still blank and might always be so.
“I met Jessie a couple of months ago and she called me and asked me if I’d have a session with you via video. She wondered if talking about your medical emergency would help in your adjustment. What do you think?”
“We’ll see,” Anna said. “Are you planning to ‘shrink’ me? I was married to a therapist for over thirty years so I’m quite up-to-date on the buzz words.”
“I was thinking maybe we’d have a short conversation about anything you like,” Dr. Norton said in a very good-natured tone of voice. “Is there anything you’d like to talk about?”
“My daughter, who is your patient...”
“So you do remember how it is I know Jessie,” he said almost teasingly.
“She has strapped herself to my side and it’s time for her to go. She has important work to do. She has patients to tend to.”
“Don’t you think she’s capable of making that decision for herself?” Dr. Norton asked.
“She doesn’t need to worry about me,” Anna said.
“Ah. Well, my experience is that worry and need are usually mutually exclusive. People never worry because they need to. They worry when they can’t seem to stop themselves. You’re the one who has had a significant medical event. Are you worried about anything?”
“I’m worried about everything,” Anna said. “But mainly I’m worried that I’m the only parent left to my children and they’re not quite ready to be abandoned. They have always depended on me. And I’m not at my best. I wonder if I ever will be again. I’m walking a tightrope now. I’ve had a stroke! There is a danger of another, and one more debilitating.”
“You feel vulnerable,” the doctor said.
“Extremely!”
“And am I correct in believing you are not used to the feeling? It doesn’t come along often?”