Chapter 3: Awake

Someone held his hand. A light was shone in first one eye then the other, then the tube were removed. A dark skinned women in scrubs and a redhead in civilian clothes hovered over him.

They removed the restraints from his arms. His right arm and leg were in casts.

“Can you tell me what year this is?” asked the Nurse.

Alex named the year. From the concerned look he received, it was the wrong answer.

“Can you remember your name?”

“Alex Bentley,” he answered. Apparently he got that one right.

“Who is the prime minister?”

He got that one wrong too.

“Do you remember why you are here?”

“I was in car accident?”

“Yes,” confirmed the Nurse.

“The car went through the bridge railing into the water?”

“No, darling. There was a pile up on the bridge, but you didn’t go over the side. You are fine except for a broken arm and leg and some cuts to your face,” corrected the redhead.

“Do you remember what happened after the crash?” asked the Nurse.

“No, the crash is the last thing I remember.”

“You were fine until you needed surgery on your leg. You never woke up from the anesthesia. That was five weeks ago, you’ve been in a coma ever since,” explained the redhead.

“You seem to have suffered some memory loss,” said the Nurse. “Do you remember your friend here?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t,” said Alex.

“It’s Denise I’m your girlfriend,” she pleaded, almost in tears.

“I’m sorry,”

“Do you remember Kelly?” asked Denise.

“Sorry, no,” he answered. For some reason that made her happier.

“Will his memory come back?” asked Denise.

“Doctor Warner will be here shortly, she will explain everything”.

Alex pointed at the pictures on the arranged on the bedside talbe.

“My son, Lenny, my daughter Tamara, my Parents, my girlfriend Denise, my younger sister Lonnie, cousin Frank,” said Alex naming the pictures he knew.

“What about these two pictures?” asked Doctor Warner.

“I have no memories of them.”

“These are your elder sister Ruth and your wife Kelly.”

“I have a girlfriend and a wife?”

“I believe you are separated from your wife.”

“So what is the verdict, Doc?” he asked.

“The pattern of your memory loss is most unusual. It is almost as if the more important a memory is to you the more like it is to be damaged or blocked.”

“Will he recover his memories?” asked Denise.

“It is impossible to say at this stage. We are waiting for the results from the blood tests and I have scheduled both a CT scan and an MRI scan for Monday. Familiar environments, objects and people can help trigger the recovery of buried memories,” advised the doctor.

“When can he come home?” she asked.

“It’s impossible to even guess until we have the results of the tests.”

“Don’t worry,” said Alex. “Think of this as an opportunity to get to know each other all over again. If we fell in love with each other once, I am sure we will do it again.”

“Christ! Alex, you are such a Pollyanna,” said Denise. “It’s one of the things I love about you. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Denise burst into tears.

Alex open his arms wide and Denise knelt beside his wheelchair so he could hold her.

“I need to consult with my colleagues. Miss O’Connor could you wheel Mr Bentley back to his room?” asked Dr Warner.

In the corridor Alex asked “Darling, could you take me to room 418 please?” Denise’s reaction to being called Darling was heart wrenching.

“Why room 418?” she asked, blowing her nose and swiping her eyes.

“According to Nurse Rachel, it has a fellow coma patient by the name of Cassandra Silva Emmit,” explained Alex.

“Did she wake up too?”

“No, sadly she is still comatose.”

“418. Oh, I know this room, its Sandy’s room.”

Large man sat by Cassie’s bed. He looked up as they entered and smiled. “Come in, come in,” he greeted them. “I’m Sandy’s husband, Virgil Emmet.”

“Hello Virgil, this is Denise O’Connor and I am -”

“Alex Bentley. Yes, everyone in the community knows who you are Mr Bentley. Only the second person ever to recover from CIPCS, and of course Denise is an old friend.”

“Sipcus?”

“Your doctor didn’t tell you? I am not surprised. It is a controversial diagnoses. Clustered Idiopathic Persistent Comatose State or CIPCS for short. Hearing about your recovery has given us all hope. CIPCS is usually fatal within one or two years, remission is possible, but a cure is almost unheard of,” rambled Virgil.

“It started in Athens in the eighties. Since then outbreaks have occurred all over the world almost always in hospitals,” explained Denise. “I don’t know what I would have done without the CIPCS support community.”

“I am so glad you have your Alex back,” said the quietly spoken giant.

“Can I say hello to her?” asked Alex.

“Of course,” replied Virgil.

Denise wheeled Alex over to Cassie’s bed. Cassie looked older than she had in that other place, and the vibrancy that was so much a part of her living presence was missing from her unconscious body “Cas ... Um ... Sandy I hope you come back to us soon.”

Denise wheeled him back to his room. A handsome Asian woman in a business suit waiting.

“What are you doing here?” hissed Denise.

“I’m his wife you little slut,” retorted the woman who Alex recognised from her photo as Kelly.

“Who are you calling a slut, you two timing hussy. Does your boyfriend Derrick know you’re here?”

“Derrick is not my boyfriend,”

“That’s not what Lenny and Tamara tell me.”

“You shouldn’t drag the children into this.”

“That’s rich coming from you.”

“Ladies this is a hospital. Could you both sheath your claws?” requested Alex.

“Shut up, Alex,” they both said.

“He should come home to his family. That is where he belongs,” insisted Kelly.

“I’m his family now. You didn’t want him. You threw him away.”

“He doesn’t even remember you. Alex come back home. The children need you.”

“I’m going home with Denise,” said Alex.

“Why? You know nothing about her,” asked Kelly.

“I know she stuck by me when things became difficult. Loyalty is something I value,” explained Alex.

“I don’t have time to argue with you at the moment. I have a meeting, I need to get to. I’ll come back again in three hours,” said Kelly embracing him and giving him a quick kiss.”It’s good to see you up and about. We will talk soon.”

“When can I see Lenny and Tamara?” he asked.

“Tomorrow,” answered Kelly as she left.

“That bitch! She knows I go to work in two hours. She just wants to get you alone,” said Denise.

“What do you do?” he asked.

“I’m sous-chef at the Bistro Carillon.”

“Sounds interesting,” said Alex. “How often do I see the kids?”

“Every day. We live in the same floor of the same apartment building. The kids are up and down the corridor between the apartments, especially when Kelly is on the warpath or Derrick is staying over.”