Chasing the Sun

The next morning, Tyler arrived at UPMC bright eyed and bushy-tailed. To say he was excited about the prospect of what could happen today was an understatement. After an emotional practice the day before, he was ready to just get things back on the road to recovery; the road to memory.

Dr. Davidson had met him at the elevator as he had called to let her know he’d be in early to visit Abbey, as soon as he said that Dr. Davidson advised him to visit with her first as they needed to speak about a couple of things regarding Abbey.

“Let’s take a walk, shall we?” she asked as soon as he got off onto Abbey’s floor, nodding he followed next to her as they took down a hallway opposite of the hospital rooms. “You remember about how when Abbey first woke up she didn’t think she was twenty-five, right?” He nodded. “Throughout her being in the hospital, and being awake, these have been reoccurrences.”

“What exactly does that mean?” he asked, obviously not speaking in the same language as the doctor.

“Yesterday after you left, she went into a state where she thought she was five. Believed it and all. Threw fits, kicked, punched, and acted exactly like a child of that age would. We ended up having to sedate her for her safety and the safety of our nursing staff. During her being heavily sedated, I took the liberty to run a couple of tests. In my years of being a neurologist, I have seen this before. Though the case was different. A young woman had a car accident, and was able to attain her memory, though because of the stress of the accident- PTSD- it made her revert to younger years of her life for a small time afterwards. We set up a psych consult last night, and we discovered, in fact, that Abbey is dealing with symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Her body isn’t able to handle everything that has happened, along with her brain, and so she is reverting to her childhood to cope with everything. While this is a coping mechanism, and for the most part there is nothing wrong with it. It worries me. We have her on a couple anti-psychotic medications that do work with preventing PTSD attacks, but those don’t always guarantee. Another thing to think about is when you decide to take Abbey home. As of right now, everything is perfect. We’ve done CT scans to see for bleeding, all are negative. Everything looks beautiful. Now you need to decide what you’re going to do in that department. I’d advise you to sit down and speak with her about it, it’s going to be an awkward and uncomfortable transition, and both of you are going to find it difficult, but studies have shown that in patients who should be discharged from the hospital, that they have ten percent chance more to get depression than ones who don’t. I’m sure you don’t want that added to your list of problems.” Dr. Davidson was right, he did need to take Abbey home, and he didn’t need to add depression to her already long list of problems.

After agreeing that he’d speak with Abbey about the prospect of going back home, Tyler made his way towards Abbey’s room. Knocking on the door three times, and not having an answer, he pushed past the dark wooded door and into the room. In the center of the small bed, Abbey lay in a little ball. She faced the TV, her eyes glazed over and half-open. When he walked in- slowly- he waved at her, she didn’t pay any attention and kept her eyes on the TV, not watching but in a trance.

“They think I’m crazy,” she finally said, rolling over and facing him. He opened his mouth to negate her but she shook her head. “Psych was down here last night, they pumped me full of all kinds of shit, my head hurts like a mother fucker, and they wont give me a fucking aspirin for it.” Curse city meet Tyler Kennedy. Tyler Kennedy meet Curse City.

“Hey,” he grabbed her hand- and surprisingly she didn’t let go- and squeezed it. “You’re not crazy. You’re just stressed, and the medications alleviate that stress. Less stress on your body.” She shrugged, not really believing him. Hell, Tyler didn’t actually know what the drugs did, how was he supposed to explain it to her?

“I’m not really up to getting out and going to eat, I’m kinda sleepy. I didn’t sleep much last night.”

“That’s okay.”

“Did you go to your practice yesterday?” she asked finally. He looked up from his own trance-like state, and nodded.

“Yeah. That was nice. Cleared my head a little bit.” Though it didn’t really do much now that he had so much more to think about. “I know you probably aren’t ready to hear all this and all, but your doctor said you can come home soon, and I was wondering when you think you might be ready…” Tyler was going to leave it up to her. When she felt comfortable, he would sign the discharge papers saying he would be taking care of her until she was one hundred percent.

“I don’t know… I hadn’t thought much of that yet…” She shrugged. In the back of her mind, she had been thinking about it. How was life going to go on with her not knowing anything about him? He could have been a masked murderer for all she knew. He nodded.

“Well let me know when you’re ready and we’ll get that all sorted out.”

“Okay.” She mumbled. “Hey Tyler?”

“Yeah, hon?”

“Can you tell me about yourself? Like something I would know…if I wasn’t the way I was… Anything?” He smiled; glad that maybe she was making half the effort. Racking his mind for a hundred thousand things, he finally found the perfect one.

“If I wasn’t a hockey player I wanted to be a lawyer.” It had actually been something he never told anybody. Most hockey players had other career choices if their love of the sport didn’t fall through; firefighter, police officer, and farmer were the top choices for the Canadian prospects, but Tyler reached high. She giggled, and shook her head.

“I think you would have made a perfect lawyer.”

“I think I’ll stick to my day job though. Hockey pays the bills and keeps me pretty happy. I’m sure I’m more happier with that career choice.”

“One time I’ll have to come and see you play, I don’t remember it but I’m sure you were fantastic, and are.”

“You were my biggest cheerleader. Win or lose you always had something to say about me that was positive. Probably how I made it all these years in the league without resulting to booze. It’s pretty stressful out there, and only the strong survive. You’re my rock.”

“How did we meet, Tyler?” she asked, changing the subject abruptly. This was a story he was able to tell on, and on again.

“It was sophomore year of high school, and we had Sex Ed together. Mr. Murray sat us next to each other and for a whole two weeks you wouldn’t look my way. Kept looking and making googley eyes with Mr. Hotshot Kevin Baker, who I might add has four illegitimate children with three mothers, not exactly a winner. Anyways, we had a verbal test one day on the body’s reproductive parts, and I made a really chauvinistic joke about something or another, and the first time you talked to me you called me, and I quote; ‘a fucking cock sucking douche bag who deserves to rot in the depths of hell because I was sexist.’ The next thing I knew, the tips of your yellow converse high tops were making direct contact with my balls. Mr. Murray kicked you out so fast, and you were suspended. After that I apologized and eventually we became friends. I asked you to the Winter Formal, and you turned me down only to ask me three days later. Two nights after the Winter Formal we officially sealed the deal.”

“We had sex after I barely knew you?” she asked with caution, her cheeks turning slightly pink. Tyler chuckled and shook his head.

“No. Oh no. We waited a little while for that. I meant I officially got you to be my girlfriend, and from that we’ve been pretty golden. Had our issues like everyone else, but we’ve managed to get through them. I proposed to you three months ago, and you said yes. Of course until everything gets sorted out our summer wedding that was planned is on hold…” Was that appropriate to bring up? He didn’t know. It just slipped.

“What’s my ring look like?”

“Boy, aren’t you full of questions today?” her face turned red as she tried to apologize, Tyler waved it off. “Oh, wow. It’s gorgeous. It’s hard to explain how exactly it looks. If you want, I can bring it in tomorrow. For you to see?”

“That would be nice,” she commented, lying back in the bed. So far, so good. “Would you be able to bring other stuff too? Maybe stuff that was ours? Picture or something? Something to maybe help me remember?” Tyler couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of that idea in the first place. Nodding, he agreed.

“I will have you a days worth of stuff to go through tomorrow then,” he announced, deciding that if she wasn’t going to all of a sudden remember what happened and their lives, he would help her remember it.

That had to be some kind of start, right?