Jim sat in Dr. Krautz office, resting his head in his hands. What had the potential to be one of the happiest days in weeks had had a tragic ending. Maybe he had set his hopes too high, and the inevitable crash was too much for him to handle. The blank, empty look on Pam’s face triggered emotions he had only encountered in a dim parking lot on a cool spring night. Jim didn’t have the mind—heart—to respond her query. So, he mumbled ‘I’m sorry,’ and, as quietly as he had entered the room, he exited.
Jim had walked around aimlessly, concentrating on a single concept—breathing. Air enters the nose, down the trachea, through the bronchus, into the lungs— a simplistic route. In Jim’s mind, his and Pam’s pathway should’ve been the same; fall in love, move in together, conceive a child—order not irrelevant—get married, and live happily ever after. There is no detour or forgetting with whom you will be taking the journey.
“I know this is not the outcome you’re expecting, but it’s progress nonetheless,” Dr. Krautz assured him.
Jim raised his head, meeting the doctor’s gaze, before mumbling a somber “I know.” It was an improvement, he knew, but he couldn’t deviate from the outlook he’d had the last month or so. Was Pam not remembering him worse than her not waking? In his current mindset, Jim couldn’t decide.
“Your wife is suffering a condition called Post-traumatic Amnesia, usually occurring after a head injury. It seems she’s lost nerve pathways required to retrieve long-term memories.” Jim was quiet, his gaze fixated on his untied shoe lace. “Mr. Halpert,” Dr. Krautz stood up and walked around his desk, pulling a chair closer to im. “Traumatic amnesia is often transient.”
Jim looked up from his shoes, not sure if he had heard the doctor correctly. “What was that?”
“Her tests indicate that there is no brain damage, which explains the retention of her implicit and procedural memories…Her memories can be triggered back.”
“I don’t understand—triggered back?” One thing that Jim had learned within the last few hours was not to get his hopes up too high, but this small affirmation excited him more than it should have.
“Yes, to a certain extent. See, depending on the stimulus, it might trigger an emotional response, even a memory.” Jim scrunched his brow, looking puzzled at the doctor. Considering his state of confusion, Dr. Krautz continued, “She may associate a flowery smell with a garden or someone who gardened. But the problematic part is to discern the stimuli. People associate things differently or not at all. So it’s hard to know how to exactly fish the memories out.”
“So, you’re saying that she may remember me? Our kids?
“Yes,” Dr. Krautz said with much hesitation. “But the best thing you can do right now is support her—be there for her. She is in a strange world right now.” Jim nodded, suddenly feeling guilty about his previous encounter with Pam. How could he have been so selfish? His better half lay in a hospital bed, disoriented, and all he could do was whisper ‘I’m sorry’ and leave. He wished he had lost his memory instead of her.
“On another note,” Dr. Krautz continued, “Your wife should make a full recovery. She could be discharged within the next week.”
“Really? That’s good! But, will she…um…be willing to come with me? I mean, I'm a…..” Jim paused, choking on his next few words, “complete stranger.”
“In cases like these, I advise the family not to be strangers. Your presence will speak louder than words.”
On that last note, Jim shook hands with the doctor and proceeded down the hall towards the elevator where it would lead him to the 6th floor—the ICU. He had a new mission in life: to be there for Pam. He knew she would have done the same, or more than he had. He been there before; he could do it again. He walked briskly and purposely towards her. Jim was surprised to find the room lacking the tumult of nurses from before. The only sound was the echoing beep of the monitors. He walked in and was faced with the same lost expression from before.
“Hi,” he said hesitantly.
“Hi,” she responded, her voice soft and hoarse. Tubes and wires still engulfed her small frame.
“I’m Jim,” He extended his hand and she shook it hesitantly.
“I’m Pam—at least that’s what they’ve been calling me. Am I supposed to know you?” Jim was not expecting that question just yet.
“Yeah… I’m your… husband.” Jim said cautiously. He watched her demeanor shrink as his statement sunk in. Maybe she didn’t need to know that just yet.
“Wow!” Tears began rolling down her cheeks as she looked at the tall man standing a few feet from her bed. She had no recollection of him, or of anything for that matter. Everything was a blur. She knew, from what the nurses told her, that she was in a hospital and that she had been in an accident, but that was as far her understanding of herself went.“I-I…“
“It’s ok,” Jim interrupted. He wanted to hold her, wipe the cascading tears from her cheeks, and it took all he had in him not to follow his instincts. “If you need me to leave now, that’s ok! I understand. Just know that I am...”
“Don’t go—I don’t want to be alone.” She interjected.
“You won’t…”
Jim narrowed the space between them, reaching out to hold her hand. She winced, but didn’t recoil—he was contented. The room fell into a comfortable silence, as neither of them spoke. He wasn’t going to bombard her with information she wasn’t ready for. Jim was going to wait for her initiative. That way, he knew she would be ready. For now, silence was his most eloquent answer. Baby steps —he thought— baby steps.
“I’m a bit tired, if you don’t mind I’m going to rest for a bit.”
“Yeah… That’s fine.”
She closed her eyes and he watched her gradually fall asleep—listening to the steady sound of her breathing. May be this wasn’t going to be so hard —he thought. But then he saw the image of his—their—children, and his heart fell to the pit of his stomach. How is he going to explain this to them? Or to her? She was taken aback by the fact that she has a husband, and then he is supposed to add two kids in the mix? Jim was about to go for a walk—to clear his head— when a nurse entered the room.
“Mr. Halpert, a Mrs. Janet Beesly is in the waiting room,” the nurse said softly. Even though she and Joe had split up, she had kept his name. She had been a Beesly for so long that it she couldn’t bring herself to change it.
Jim made his way down the hall, finding Janet on the verge of tears. She was such a pleasant and polite woman, from whom Pam took a lot, and Jim was thankful for that. She had always been a rock for Pam, and Pam loved her, so Jim came to love her as well. After the divorce, she was distressed, but optimistic, which helped Pam through the awful ordeal. Family gatherings had become a bit awkward, but over the years it had gotten better—kids always had a way to light up a room.
“Jim…”
“Janet.” She embraced him.
“Is she awake? I came as soon as you called.”
“She is sleeping right now, still in the ICU … but alert.”
“That is great news...” Janet paused, sensing a lack of excitement in his voice. “What’s wrong Jim?”
Jim was silent. How was he supposed to tell her Pam wouldn’t remember her—her own mother? Not only that, but how was he supposed to admit his soul mate didn’t remember him either? He stood, awkwardly glancing past her, perhaps at the ceiling, before meeting her gaze again. “Janet…” he began, “She can’t remember.”
“What?” The question came out barely a whisper.
“She doesn’t remember things…” Jim began, tears agglomerating in the back of his eyes. Janet covered her mouth, in complete disbelief. “She didn’t know who I was…” He shifted uncomfortably, trying to recompose himself, “But we need to be there for her, she can’t afford to see us break. It is already confusing enough as it is.” Janet nodded. She couldn’t seem to absorb the situation before her. “The doctors think it could be temporary… but it’s still early to tell.”
“Can we go see her?
“Yeah, but she’s resting right now. The doctors have been on her the entire morning.” Janet was saddened; she wanted to see her daughter. “I was actually going for a walk, mind joining me?”
“Okay.”
They walked to the cafeteria, choosing to grab a bite. They were mostly silent, picking at the food. Jim mentioned work and the kids, but Janet rarely responded—she was still swallowing the knot stuck in her throat. Sensing her uneasiness, Jim decided they’d been away long enough. He stood up, throwing most of his sandwich away, and Janet followed, making their way to her room.
Jim entered quietly, while Janet lingered by the door. “Hey, you’re awake.”
“Yeah, there seems to be a lot of commotion here,” She said, stifling a yawn. She had managed to doze off, but between the beeping monitors and nurses filtering in and out, it made sleeping almost impossible.
“Well, you are in a hospital Beesly.”
“Bees what?” He noticed a smile tugging the corners of her lips.
“Beesly…It’s your maiden name…I…um…” He stammered, “I call you that sometimes”
“Oh…”
“Your mom is also here to see you,” Jim said, gesturing towards the door. Pam widened her eyes, stretching her neck to see the person standing by the door. She was fairly tall woman, with straight auburn hair, and very fair skin. She wore khaki pants, a light blue shirt, and minimal jewelry.
“Hi honey,” Janet said walking slowly towards Pam.
“Hi,” Pam said with tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. “I’m sorry…It’s just… I don’t…” Pam stammered, biting her bottom lip in an effortless attempt to keep it from quivering. Pam didn’t remember her either.
“It’s okay honey,” Janet said reaching for her hand, “We’re here for you.”
The room fell into an awkward silence as neither of them dared to speak. Pam didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know the two figures standing before her and apparently they didn’t know this new person either. Pam felt part of a puzzle where everyone seemed to know how the pieces matched except her.
The silence was interrupted by the persistent ring of Janet’s phone. She quickly fished it from her bag, pressing the hold key. She had been waiting to hear from Joe and Anne, Pam’s dad and younger sister, since she’d left home. She quickly excused herself, heading towards the hall. Somehow the atmosphere became lighter. Jim’s presence was comforting. Pam didn’t understand why, but she felt safer when he was around.
“Did you bring all these flowers?” Pam said admiring the small vases of flowers decorating the room.
“Some of them. The big one over there,” Jim said pointing to a vase with colorful daisies, “That one was from the people we work with.”
“Oh… They are all very nice!” Pam smiled—contemplating asking her next question. “Is there anyone else I should know about?”
“Well… Maybe. You have a dad and a sister who are driving up from Philadelphia. If you’re not ready to meet them, it’s okay…,” Jim said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “We’re just really happy you’re alright.”
“Okay.” Pam paused before asking her next question, “What happened?” Pam seemed more ready to ask questions than Jim was to answer them.
“Well…” Jim shifted uncomfortably in the chair, “You were driving home from your art class when a drunk driver hit you head-on. It was pretty bad.” Pam widened her eyes looking down at her herself. She could see the remnant scars, not to mention the cast still housing her left leg. “You’re getting better and the doctors are optimistic.”
“Why can’t I remember anything?” Her eyes were filling with tears once again.
“Um… you will, it’s just going to take some time.” This time Jim didn’t resist. He got up from the chair and embraced her. She felt the warmth of his body radiating through hers. “I will be here, always.” Pam smiled wiping the escaping tears down her cheeks, but quickly retracted herself from his embrace.
“Thank you.” She said sheepishly.
Janet returned, startling both Jim and Pam. “Jim, that was your mom, she’s been trying to reach you all day.”
“I left my phone in the car! Is everything ok?”
“Nothing’s wrong. She wanted an update on Pam and to ask what time you’re picking up the kids.”
“What kids?” Pam gasped, the color draining from her face. Her eyes widened, darting from Jim to Janet for an answer.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Here is chapter two, more Jim and Pam interaction. The angst is temporary; more fluff will be coming your way!
Disclaimer: I own nada...
Disclaimer: I own nada...
Chapter End Notes:
Thank you for reading once more... Please review so that I know people are still with me... I'm very open, and there is nothing that I would love more than to know what you guys think...
R.I.P MJ
R.I.P MJ
