“That all right, Ryan,” Dr. Badalia said soothingly. “You gave a great effort. It will come in time. Go ahead and take a break now.”
But Ryan clearly wasn’t stopping. His eyes were still squeezed tight and his open palm was vibrating on top of Jessie’s. His eyes popped open and she could immediately see that he was furious with frustration. The beeping was getting faster.
“Okay, Ryan,” Dr. Badalia said, his voice still as calm as always as he moved over to the bank of machines. “It looks like you’re getting a bit agitated there. So I’m going to sedate you a bit to relax you and help you sleep.”
Ryan’s eyes darted toward Jessie. He looked panicky, as if silently begging her not to allow it.
“It’s okay, babe,” she said, trying to hide the anguish she felt inside. “This just takes time. Rest for a while. We can try again later.”
He blinked twice, paused, and then did it again. And again. Only on his fourth desperate attempt to tell her not to let him be sedated did the medication start to kick in. His blinking slowed before stopping completely. His eyes closed once again.
Jessie looked over at the doctor as she wiped the tears from her eyes.
“Let’s talk outside,” he said gently. “You never know what they can hear.”
Jessie followed him back into the hall and down to the waiting room, where he took a seat. She followed suit.
“How are you holding up?” he asked.
“I’m getting by,” she said quickly. “You don’t have to warm me up or sugarcoat it, Doctor. Just tell me where we stand.”
“Okay. What we just saw was promising. I know Ryan got frustrated at the end there. But having any mobility at this point, considering what he’s been through, is a positive sign. Having said that, he has a long, rough road ahead of him. Even if there’s no long-term damage, just being bedridden and on a ventilator for so long can be debilitating. He’ll require lots of physical therapy to regain basic motor skill function. Walking will be a major challenge. It could take many months. In addition, he may have permanent vocal cord damage.”
Jessie sighed but said nothing so Dr. Badalia went on.
“That’s the best-case scenario. But you need to be prepared for others. He may have other damage that we’re not yet able to ascertain.”
“Like what?”
“Like nerve damage from the knife wound. Also, there could be permanent lung damage. Some people recover completely from this sort of thing. Others require constant assistance—oxygen tanks, breathing tubes, that sort of thing. And there’s always the chance that he suffered some degree of brain damage.”
Jessie looked at him, startled. This was the first time anyone had mentioned that.
“Do you see any sign of that?”
“It’s too early to tell at this point. I know you started performing CPR soon after he was attacked but there was at least some time when he had limited access to oxygen. His reactions last night and just now show promise. He seemed to understand what we were saying and respond accordingly. But we were asking simple questions and requesting he perform basic tasks. It’ll be a while before we can test if he suffered any kind of loss in higher brain function or memory.”
“Memory?” Jessie repeated. The hits kept on coming.
“Yes. Sometimes traumatic injury, medically induced comas, or oxygen deprivation can lead to short-term or even permanent memory loss. He’s endured all three, so we can’t rule it out.”
Jessie sat silently, trying to process all the terrible permutations.
“Look, you asked me not to sugarcoat it, so I didn’t. But none of these outcomes are assured. He could be back on the force, good as new, in eight to twelve months.”
“Or?” Jessie pressed, sensing he wasn’t done.
“Or he could require permanent, ongoing care in a long-term facility. And there’s always the chance he could backslide and we’d face the worst-case scenario. We’re in a very fluid moment right now.”
“Wow,” Jessie said, shaking her head in disbelief. “I got to hold his hand and look into his eyes. I guess I didn’t expect things to take such a dark turn.”
They were both quiet for a moment.
“Ms. Hunt, may I give you a piece of advice?”
Jessie looked up. His normally stern face had softened slightly.
“Sure.”
“I know what you do for a living so I know you’re used to methodically working the problem at hand and having at least some degree of control over your situation. As a doctor, I embrace that feeling as well, being on top of things. But the truth is, in this situation, you have very little control. You can show up, be supportive, and let Ryan know you love him and are there for him. But at this stage of the process, it does you no good to worry about what might happen. It’s out of your hands. And all that worry will wear you down, making it hard to be there for Ryan the way he needs you to be.
“So here’s the advice: when you’re with him, be fully present in the moment. But when you’re not, lead your life. See friends. Have a glass of wine. Take a hike. And don’t feel guilty about it. Those moments away will help give you the strength to be there for him when he really needs you. In my experience, taking care of yourself really is the best way to take care of him.”
He smiled, almost warmly.
“Thanks, Doctor,” she said.
“You bet. I have to go but I’ll be in touch.”
He left the waiting room. Jessie stayed, looking around absently. There were a half dozen other people there, all with the same shell-shocked expression she was sure she had. She wondered briefly what personal horror had gotten them to this point. Had any of them lost their mentor and nearly lost their soul mate in the same week? Before she could brood over it further, her phone rang. It was Captain Decker, her boss until three days ago. She declined the call as she got up and walked to the parking garage.
She was getting into her car when she felt the buzz indicating she had a voicemail. She was tempted to delete it without listening but couldn’t quite bring herself to do it. That would be outright rude and besides, some part of her itched to know what he wanted. She played it.
“Hi, Hunt. Hope you’re well. I’m planning to stop by the hospital this afternoon to visit Hernandez. I hear he woke up briefly last night. That’s positive. But that’s not the only reason I’m calling. I know you just left us on Friday and I apologize for even asking, but I need help. A huge case just dropped in my lap, incredibly high profile. Normally, I’d assign Hernandez. But since he’s not available, I’m going with Trembley, who’s never had a case this big. And the department’s desperately low on qualified profilers with you gone and, you know…Moses. If you could just help me out on this one, even in an advisory capacity, I’d be eternally grateful. Let me know.”
Jessie deleted the message, put the phone away, and pulled out of the parking garage.
She felt bad for Decker. But there would always be another big case that needed solving. For Jessie’s own sanity, her days of doing it were over.
Besides, right now she had another task to focus on, one she’d been dreading.
CHAPTER FOUR