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“Has she said anything?” Jason asked, pausing in his pacing as the doctor came out of the room. Cameron looked up from his phone and stood to join him.
“No, not yet anyway. The therapist is going in with her now, we’re hoping this will give us some answers.”
Jason and Cameron looked over at a woman who was curled at an uncomfortable angle in one of the waiting room chairs. It had been a long week. Visitors hours would start soon, and all three were eager to see her.
“We will let you know when she is finished with therapy,” the doctor said, and left.
--
Serena’s eyes flicked back and forth in the dim room; the lighting was low in the small office. It was neat, done up in dark wood with light flooring. She shifted on the soft couch uncomfortably; the white noise machine in was getting on her nerves, with the constant hiss in the forefront instead of the background. A man in his forties sat in a chair in front of her, a soft smile playing on his lips. Serena’s gaze darted away from him.
“What is the last thing you remember, Ms. Campbell?” he asked again.
Serena squinted her eyes, noticing a frayed string on the right cuff of his suit coat as she pondered the question. What didn’t she remember? She closed her eyes, everything was so much of a blur. It had been that way for a bit but the past three months. She tried to remember things but they skirted away, just out of her memory.
She wasn’t sure how much time passed but she opened her eyes when a familiar smell tickled her nose.
“Coffee?” He asked. Jim or was it John? No Jeff, it was Jeff. Her eyes tracked his movements as he poured the dark liquid into a chipped cup, an eyebrow raised at her. She shook her head.
“Remember when coffee was just coffee?”
Tears pricked behind her eyes, no, she wouldn’t remember, she wouldn’t let herself go back down that road. If she did, if she allowed herself to open up the box of memories it would swallow her whole. She’d done it every night, every single bloody night since Alex told her Bernie was dead. Opening the box meant reliving the time when she was surrounded by family, when her heart was full, her life overflowing. Even if it had only been for a few weeks. A few weeks before everything crumbled, before losing Ellie.
She took a sharp breath and looked at the doctor.
“If we can communicate Ms. Campbell, if you could just answer a few questions I really believe you can start to make your recovery.”
Serena scuffed, she didn’t want a recovery, why should she? So she can go back to what? Medicine, to Holby? To the thing sucking the life out of her.
“We are all here to support you; your family, your friends, and your partner.”
Partner? That bit confused her. She refused to trust this man. He said he could make her better, but if these past three years had taught her anything it was that there was no other side, no light at the end of the tunnel. “What if I don’t want to go back?”
Her words took him by surprise, his coffee mug wobbled and he sat up straight in his chair. Serena’s lips quirked, good to know she could still startle people. A vice for some, people would say, but to her it power.
“Why don’t you want to go back?”
Serena fought the urge to roll her eyes. She’d been in therapy before, it helped her immensely, but this felt different. Perhaps because this was court appointed.
She shrugged, “Nothing much to go back to is there?” Her memories came in spurts, probably a side effect of one of the medications she was on, or perhaps a protective wall her brain put in place. She remembered losing her job at Holby, she remembered feeling gutted about her choice on who to save, her deliberate choice, the guilt that crawled its way up her throat. There was something else though, something she couldn’t quite remember. Something that made her giddy inside, which gave her hope. Something that made her yearn to leave this place.
“You have your family. Your nephew has told me all about your grandniece.”
Serena felt a lightness wash over her at the mention of Guinevere, “Yes, but,” she stopped herself, it seemed like everything she touched, everyone she loved died. It would be best if she didn’t go back.
“We have all afternoon Ms. Campbell, take as long as you’d like.” His voice was gentle, his eyes soft and for a moment she felt like she could trust him.
She looked down at her lap, her hands twisting against her thighs, she’d lost weight. Her GP had told her to, but she didn’t think she meant like this. The beige scrubs she wore clashed horribly with her skin tone. She’d thought as much when she caught sight of herself in the bathroom mirror this morning. She missed her own clothes, something to hide in.
“How long have I been here?”
The doctor smiled, leaning back in his chair, setting his cool cuppa on a bookshelf next to him. “Just going on a week.”
She nodded, “St. Anne’s?”
He smiled again, “Yes, that’s very good!”
She rolled her eyes, very good knowing where one is. She, a Harvard educated business woman, a surgeon, one of the best in the country and here she was sat not quite sure what day it was, nor where exactly she was.
“I feel like I’m coming out of the fog today.”
He nodded again, “The meds they gave you at intake can take a while to get settled in the system.”
“I don’t remember much…just being so stressed, having to go before the board to answer for my decisions, then going back to my office and…” She tried to force her brain to remember, there was something important she was forgetting, something big.
As if sensing what she was trying to do he held up his hand. “That’s alright, give it time. After a trauma the brain can sometimes block things from you, to protect itself.”
This time she allowed her eyes to roll, “Yes, I’m well aware of that.”
“Just try not to force yourself to remember, it will come back.”
She nodded, and took a deep breath, tried to calm her racing heart.
“Could we try something?” he asked.
“Sure, why not?”
He gave her a smile, “I’d like you to close your eyes.”
She narrowed her eyes slightly before deciding to go along with him and, taking a deep breath she let her eyes close. She could hear the hush of the white noise machine more prominently. “Breathe with me, in for one, two, three.” He paused, “Out one, two, three.” They continued for a few minutes, just breathing. Serena felt the tension fall from her shoulders. Her mind was still foggy but the pressing weight seemed to shift somewhat.
The therapist’s soft voice broke the silence, “What is the first thing that comes to mind right now?”
Serena frowned, her eyes still closed. Her mind was blissfully blank at the moment. Just the sound of a soft ticking from a clock across the room she hadn’t registered before and the quite ever present hum.
“Don’t try to fight it Serena, don’t make yourself think, just let it come to you.”
She found herself trying not to roll her eyes at the notion but gave into the concept. She sat silently, her breathing slow. Gradually a feeling came forth, immense relief was it? She frowned, it wasn’t…happiness? Jealousy, then…a warm feeling. A feeling of home, something she hadn’t felt in oh so long.
The last time she felt it she was in warm, strong arms, wrapped up in softness and warmth. The feeling of home washed over her. Suddenly, she remembered.
Her eyes shot open. “Bernie!” She stood quickly from the couch, the room spun and stars swam in front of her eyes as the room swayed.
She felt two hands on her shoulders steadying her in place, “Serena, I need you to-“
“No! Bernie, I – I felt her! Where is she? That wasn’t a dream, it wasn’t a fantasy was it?” She pushed past him and started towards the door.
“Ms. Campbell! Serena!” He tried in vain to stop her. Her wobbly legs took her down the hall. Everything looked like she was seeing it for the first time. Her brain was still sluggish,
slow, but her feet responded when she told them to move, her knees protested as she pounded towards the waiting room. She pushed through the door and skidded to a stop.
Jason and Cameron jumped to their feet, both startled by her appearance.
“Ms. Campbell.”
“Auntie Serena.”
She looked past them. There on a chair… it couldn’t be. She shook her head, her brain felt wobbly in her head. “B-Bernie,” she whispered. This woman curled on the chair looked like a shell of her Bernie. At the commotion she sat up and stiffly got to her feet. Serena watched as she used a cane to stand straight, as straight as she could. Her body was at a lopsided angle, as was her smile when it pulled across her face. She was rail thin, her hair shorter than Serena’s own, clearly shaved close to her head.
Her mind flashed back to walking out of her office, walking out of it, seeing Bernie slowly making her way across the ward on Cameron’s arm. The words, brain trauma, stroke, and amnesia flickered across her memory. There was someone screaming, they wouldn’t stop. She had realized suddenly it was her own voice before everything faded away.
She could hear Jeff behind her, she felt Cameron’s arm slide across her shoulders but she stepped away from him. She closed the distance between them slowly, as if she was approaching a frightened horse, any quick movement and Bernie might take flight again. Disappear through her fingers like sand in an hour glass, fleeting from her injured mind like a mirage in a desert.
Slowly she lifted her hand, gently stroked Bernie’s cheek. Her eyes took her in greedily. Soft, beautiful brown eyes that had sparkled with mirth now shone with unshed tears, her short hair, with the line on the side of her skull where she could see a scar from the staples. Her thin lips quirked up in a smile, tugging up more on the left than the right. Hemiplegia, her brain brought to mind, she pushed it aside. Bernie was here, now, in front of her alive.
Everything else, her job, the board, her license, none of it mattered.
“I know I look a – a mess...” Bernie’s speech was slightly slurred, like it was at Albies after one too many glasses of Shiraz.
Serena shook her head; she looked like a vision. She felt the dam break inside of her and she closed the remaining distance between them. Pulled Bernie to her firmly. Her hands slid up into the short soft hair at the base of her neck, her nose buried into her neck as loud, large sobs racked her body. She heard Bernie’s cane clatter to the floor as she held on tightly. “You’re alive!” she got out, holding on tighter to reaffirm that yes, she was really here. This wasn’t some fantasy her mind conjured up. She inhaled deeply, letting Bernie fill her senses.
“You’re alive,” she whispered. They stood there for a while, ignoring everything as they smiled at each other. Eventually noises came back into their little bubble; the ringing of a desk phone, the murmur of others around them, and a doctor being paged overhead. After a bit Serena pulled back, holding Bernie’s hands she looked at her. Raising a quivering fingers she gently brushed a tear from Bernie’s cheek.
“Oh Bernie.”
“I’m sorry Serena,” Bernie whispered, squeezing Serena’s hand.
“Shhh – it doesn’t matter, not anymore.”
She shook her head, “I promised you eternity, a suicide bomb wasn’t going to take that away from us.”
Serena stared at her, “What? Oh my darling, you really need to stop getting blown up.” She tried to joke, even though it felt like her heart was being pulled out of her chest. She took a deep breath. Bernie was standing in front of her, alive.
Bernie shook her head, “You’re right there - there is so much to explain.”
She nodded, and looked down at their joined hands, “Come back with me?”
Bernie looked over to Jeff and smiled when she saw him nod. “I think it might be good for both of you to have a joint session.” He smiled picked up Bernie’s cane and handed it to her.
Bernie nodded and threaded her free arm through Serena’s. They passed a smiling Jason and Cam as they slowly walked back down the hall to Jeff’s office. Serena felt as if she was in a daze, the fog which lifted before was slowly pushing back in. She took a deep breath, then another and felt it recede slightly. Bernie’s arm was warm in hers, and glancing up she saw her smile at her. It would take time, but they would be okay. After all, they were in this for eternity.