Page 42 of Brain Damage

But now, for the first time, I start to wonder if maybe it’s not about us at all, and maybe he’s just a very good kisser.

29

AFTER

Today my occupational therapist Valerie is working with me on something called grooming. I am sitting up in bed, and there’s a tray table in front of me, with a small C-shaped tub of water. Valerie hands me a brush and I grab it with my right hand.

“Okay, Charly,” she says. “I want you to brush.”

I’m not wearing my helmet because I’m in bed, so I take the brush and I start running it through my hair, or what little is left of my hair. Valerie grabs my wrist and shakes her head.

“Charly,” she says. “Is that what you do with it?”

I take the brush and start running it over my eyebrows, which doesn’t seem to make Valerie any more pleased. Honestly, I have no idea what she wants me to do. I wish she’d be more specific.

Dr. Williams walks into the room, rubbing his hands together. I immediately look over at his tie. It has bats on it. I wonder if it’s Halloween.

“How is my star patient doing?” Dr. Williams asks.

“Well,” Valerie says, “she just tried brushing her hair and eyebrows with a toothbrush, so how do you think?”

“Maybe she thought it’s a travel-sized hairbrush?” Dr. Williams says, and winks at me.

I know that Valerie doesn’t seem to think I’m doing very well, and I like that Dr. Williams always seems to stick up for me. He always says that I’m his star patient. Although I’m beginning to think that I’m probably not.

“Are you getting anything out of her left arm?” Dr. Williams asks.

“Nothing.” Valerie shrugs. “See for yourself.”

Dr. Williams is right in front of me, but suddenly he disappears! Right into thin air. Maybe he went out the door at the other side of the room. I am certain he must be gone, but then I hear his voice say, “Charly, I’m over here, on your left. Look over here.”

I turn my head to the left and I still don’t see him. I turn a little more, then little more, then finally I can see the bats again on his tie.

“I see you!” I cry in triumph.

Dr. Williams smiles down at me. “Now I want you to grab my hand with your hand.”

I reach over with my right hand and grasp his fingers. His hand feels very warm. I’ve always liked warm hands. There’s an expression that goes “cold hands, warm heart,” but that doesn’t make sense to me. Why would having cold hands mean that you have a warm heart? Warm hands, warm heart.

“No, Charly,” he laughs. “Not with that hand. With your other hand.”

Everyone is quiet, waiting for me to do what he wants me to do. But I don’t know how to do it. If I could, I would, believe me. He might as well tell me to wag my tail.

“I’ve seen her move the arm,” Valerie says, tucking a strand of her very short brown hair behind one ear. “But I don’t think she can do it voluntarily.”

Dr. Williams nods thoughtfully.

“Also,” Valerie adds, “the tone in her left arm is getting horrible. I can barely straighten out her elbow or open her fingers anymore. It’s getting harder and harder just to get her dressed.”

“Does she try to help you?” Dr. Williams asks.

“Sometimes,” Valerie says. “But honestly, it’s easier if she doesn’t. That arm is such a mess. She’d be better off if we just cut it off or something.”

Cut my arm off? Oh my God. I didn’t even realize that was a possibility.

I suck in a breath. “You’re going to cut off my arm?”

I really don’t think I want them to do that. Even though I can’t find my left arm, I’m glad that it’s still there. Of course, if they cut it off, would I even know?