Come ON, Connect.

“Chris? Do you know how old you are?”
“…Seventeen.”
“Chris, do you know where you are.”
“My parents’ bedroom, sleeping.

“Did he have a lazy eve previously?”
“No.”
“That may be permament.”

After he started punching the nurses, they sedated him again.

“Chris how old are you?”
“Seventeen.”
“Do you know who’s beside you?”
He looked very hard, his eyes crossing.
He raised his hand up, “Autumn?”

My heart broke.

“Chris, do you know where you are?”
You’re in the hospital. You were in a car accident.”
“Oh, no.”

He jerked around at the sound of dad’s voice.
“Dad?”
“I’m here, Chris.” Chris put his hand up to his face, and then the other.
“Why are there two.”
He was trying to push his father’s faces together.

He continues to wake every few minutes, saying, “I thought it was a nightmare. This isn’t real.” Around seven p.m. he began trying to ‘wake up’ by hitting himself in the head…this was when Dad broke down.

“Chris do you know where you are.”
“I’m locked in a room.”
Diagnosed with paranoid schitz earlier in the year, his parents were fearing that he was thinking he’d been committed.
Dad started to sob.

“I can’t believe I’m crippled.”

“Where am I?” And you tell him, and he wakes up 10 minutes later, those wide eyes….frightened, painful eyes, and he asks you, “Where am I?”

“Why did I get in a car.
Michael? College?”
“No, Chris. Not with Mike. I’m home from college. You were with Roy.”
“Fuck I hate him.”

Brandon, the other best friend, stormed in with some company, and I watched him briefly escape into the hall, throw his hat against his chest and cry, “He’s only safe with ME! HE’S ONLY SAFE WITH ME!” and then his girlfriend grabbed onto him.

“Brandon.”
“I’m here, Chris.”
“I fell asleep.”
“Yeah?”
“And I woke up, and you broke my neck.” (he has a neck brace he cannot understand)
“No, Chris. It wasn’t me.”

The doctor is foreign and hard to understand. He comes in after Chris is exhausted, to run tests. He snaps his fingers, “Can you hear that? Can you hear that? Chris?”
“Hear what.”

“Brandon. They found me and dragged me back to hell…

I can’t go to school.”

He can’t remember anything. He denies being in a vehicle with Roy. He remembers the nap in his parents’ bedroom moments before, and returns there in his grogginess and disbelief. Still, occasional responses of “Am I at home? I’m in my parents’ bedroom.”

Chris occasionally decides he wants to escape. He starts ripping at everything. He cries, “They took my pants” and then, “my BLADE! I need my blade!” He can’t remember the accident, but his mind remembers that he had a dagger in his pants pocket.

Later tonight, he started to become angrier, “I’ll make you fuckers walk the plank,” when the cathedar was removed. He threatens to throw me across the room if I don’t help him out of the bed, etc… At least he’s coming through in full character.

But very painful. The more he comes to, the more he fears he has fallen into a dream. The more awake he is, the more he struggles, so the harder you have to fight, too. The closer we are to the next steps, the closer you are to knowing…if he’ll be able to function in the world…if his eyes will…be correct…if the brain swelling will reveal that damage is little to none….that he can walk with some therapy, perhaps…and live with himself…or…

Not.

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27 responses to “Come ON, Connect.

  1. Shit Autumn… I dont ebven know if I can beggin to know how you feel… I just… Im sorry its so hard on you, my words probably come as little consolation, but if you need anything ever, you know Im always around, always… I hope… Greatly, I hope greatly… That everything will turn okay, and he’ll be okay… and just… -_- Take care… Just… ._.; Take care….

    love- Nick

    • Nick,

      I’m glad that you’re writing, again. Any news from you is good news, so it’s cool to check out your LJ…When things are better, I’ll swing by and we’ll find something. Asap.

  2. poor chris. poor autumn. poor everyone. the human experience…a fragile thing. aka life. i hope this is a punch that everyone can roll with.

  3. He’s alive, Autumn. Begin with that. It’s more than what I thought I’d find when I returned to read.

    You’re strong. Stronger than they are.

    He is strong, obviously. He may not know where he is, or who he is, or what happened.
    There’s a time and place for all that. But he’s breathing. He’s fighting (maybe the wrong thing, at times, but still fighting).

    It’s going to be alright. And that’s not the sympathy talking, Autumn. You know me better than that. Get some sleep. You’ll need it tomorrow.

  4. “Did he have a lazy eve previously?”
    “No.”
    “That may be permament.”

    Doctors have no business saying this sort of thing. It’s early days yet.

    A friend of mine had an accident and broke her neck, and the doctors told her she would never walk again … turned out to be untrue. They have no clue what they’re talking about sometimes. I’m not saying, “It’s all going to be fine”, but doctors are often thoughtless, so don’t take them too seriously.

    I’m thinking of you.

    (((Autumn)))

    • Well,

      not the main doctor, but…some weird…heavy-accented man was with the head nurse and I heard their conversation. The nurse said there hadn’t been previous lazy muscles and this was the first time that man had seen Chris…just the day after admission…and he said “That may be permanent” to the head nurse.

      Today, I think. It was a little better. I’m not sure. He slept a lot.

  5. it sounds like you are keeping your head up; that’s good. i am thinking of you and sending you positive thoughts and energy from way over the ocean.
    take care autumn–
    t.

  6. I slept very little last night. I was awakened more than twice an hour by dreams and noises. Each time, I could think of nothing but you and your family, and the horror you’ve endured the past 48 hours. I hope your nighttime was not as eventful as it was … in my nightmares.

    • I keep waking up too.

      But it was better today, after Chris got through the morning.

      Very hard, first thing, first stir: “Am I dying.”

      He was still forgetting until this afternoon…and then I really…think he is connected, now. i think. He might remember some of today, tomorrow…

      that would be great.

  7. I’m glad to hear that he is at least well enough to struggle. For that you should feel lucky. With all the love and support surrounding him now, I have a feeling you’ll be suprised as to just how far he will come. My thoughts remain with you.

    • You’re very right. Not that you dont know that.

      It’s good to see the same person.

      Could have been so much worse, had he not woken up with his mental inventory.

  8. I was just in an accident very similar to his less then 2 months ago, and it may be a good thing that he doesn’t remember the accident. I don’t remember mine, but I don’t want to. And even if his improvement isn’t extremely fast, he will get better. And his eye? That’s very common. Mostly they fix themself. And sometimes they might need corrective surgery, but that’s another thing he’ll have to wait out. They said hearing is sometimes affected too but it may also fix itself. If you have any questions about it whatsoever, or just need to vent about something, don’t hesitate to ask.

    • I hadn’t said anything,

      but I really Do read everyone’s LJ on my list…and. I knew you’d been hurt, and how frustrated you’ve been…

      and it shocked me, when an LJ friend was talking about how entries had been harder since their accident…I dont know…made you very. Alive.

  9. Hey darlin-(with a little southern twang)
    I am sorry that I have not been able to catch up with you since I have been gone in Tennessee-I was taking the time to read through everyones today and came across yours. I wanted to say that I hope you are keeping your strength up and also remembering to eat healthy throughout this tough time. Just remember that he will need you more than you know now and you have to be that stronger point. Best wishes-and I hope all turns out for the best

  10. Mixed up stuff

    Dear Autumn May….
    This is… well… I’m sorry. I know it’s tough. I have a variety of thoughts and responses and I’m trying to sort through which ones to say. I guess, I’d start by saying that anything is possible and that doctors are not all-knowing… You know my history with Malaria and that doctors said I would never fully recover. I have. You know from LJ and other sources too that doctors have been known to be wrong.
    Nother thought… You also know that I work with handicapped kids and that my mom’s whole rehab company works with people who have been in severe car accidents. She handles all sorts of closed-head injury cases. Many people do recover beyond what is expected, but those who don’t don’t neccessarily live a “bad” life. Yes, you have to adapt. And yes, it is often a major change from what their life was… but I see so many people who live a ‘normal’ life. It’s just been adapted. I don’t know if your brother is paralysed or what the long term effects of this will be, but he is a fighter. I have often heard you writing about his fighting (within himself, with you, with your family, etc). Now he must FOR himself. He will. And I’m sure he will do fine. He may end up having a full recovery. That would be great! But, even if he doesn’t, that doesn’t mean his life of normalicy is over. Things may be difficult, but he will be ok. And so will you.
    I don’t know if any of this helps at all… but I too am here if you want to talk or don’t want to talk, want an escape or want reality. You are always welcome, even to just ‘exist’ in a different place. My house, porch, hot tub, phone, etc are open to you.

  11. I just talked to my mom. Her response was have him transfered to St. Josephs Hospital. You want to talk to Dr. Perlman. You will also need a case manager. Ask for Susan Smith.

    Please…. I know seems arbitrary, but trust me.

    Please.

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