December 20, 1998 - December 26, 1998

Sunday, December 20


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Monday, December 21


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Tuesday, December 22


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Wednesday, December 23


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Thursday, December 24
Christmas Eve
David and I went for lunch at the Mall. He found the scene there even more surreal than I had. All the people, bustle, and color, all the commercial cheer, while our hearts were torn with worry and our minds miles away - which is to say, on Don, resting amid the noise and dispair of the Close Observation Unit.

I wanted to buy something to mark the night, since it was traditionally the night my family exchanged presents. But I saw how easy it would be to buy something inappropriate. Don's bedside table was becoming cluttered with trinkets. I would have to find something small.

I found the perfect thing: a tiny book with the text of "The Night Before Christmas" and a tiny ceramic mouse to go with it. This evening, I would read the story aloud to Don.

Others also wanted to visit Don this Christmas Eve. Sara came. Around 5:00 PM, three women swept up the corridor towards Don's room. They were wrapped in floor-length capes, and one of them, with white hair, bore in her hands a blooming cylcamen. They looked like nothing so much as the Three Wise Men come to visit the Babe in the Manger.

The woman with the white hair turned out to be Dr. Rachel Remen. "I'm pleased to meet you at last," I said. She murmured a greeting, then the three flowed into the room and surrounded Don's bed. Sara, David, and I withdrew. This was more than mere politeness. We had been told not to put more than three people around Don's bed at a time. The visual and social stimulus can be too much for someone recovering from brain trauma.

I'm sure I was introduced to the other two women, but it wasn't until later that I learned their names: Sukie Miller and Marilyn. I soon took a disliking to Sukie, though. Within a few minutes of arriving at the hospital, she had me cornered in the hallway.

"This is an awful place," she exclaimed. I agreed. "But it's so noisey, so full of distress." The woman on the bed opposite Don's had one of her moaning episodes while they were there. "Something must be done."

"He needs to be in a close observation ward," I said.

"But the sounds!" she protested. "He can't rest like that. He should have a radio or tape player."

"The music would disturb the other patients," I said, feeling a little like I was pointing out the obvious. Wasn't this woman a health care professional? Didn't she already know the rules about keeping quiet around brain injuries?

"A walkman, then," she said decisively. "You must go out an purchase a walkman."

I admitted this was a good idea, one we hadn't thought of. I said I would try to get one tomorrow.

"No!" she insisted. "It must be tonight. I'll give you the money. Go out now, while the stores are still open."

I was flabbergasted. Who was this woman and who did she think she was? More importantly, whom did she think I was, to go running out on a shopping erand at her beck and call?

"It's Christmas Eve," I pointed out rather bluntly. "I don't think the stores will be open." I also wasn't about to spend my Christmas Eve dashing about at the last minute trying to buy something. It was already pitch black out.

"You should go right away," she said, then went back into the room.

I turned to David. "She has got to be kidding," I said. He just shook his head.

A few minutes later, I could hear the three women around Don's bed softly singing "Silent Night."

Despite my knowing it was futile, I decided to give Sukie's idea a try. I got in my car and went back to the Mall. The gates were lowering and most of the shops were closing. The Macy's was already closed. No shop that would sell consumer electronics was open. I knew there was another shopping mall north of town because I'd seen it on my trips to and from Windsor. I drove out there but it, too, was mostly closed. Although the Macy's was open a half hour longer than the downtown mall, the one salesclerk I could find told me they didn't have any Walkmans. So I drove back to the hospital, having spent an hour and a half on a senseless mission on a night I had intended to spend entirely with Don. I was angry, which was an emotion I did not want to carry with me back to the hospital, and I felt guilty for not thinking of Sukie's solution to the noise problem. And maybe if I had left immediately, as soon as Sukie told me to, I could have gotten that damned Walkman.

On the way back to the hospital, I decided to give up on the guilt trip. Yes, the Walkman had been a good suggestion. It's too bad it had not been made sooner.

The Three Wise Crones had left by the time I got back, so it was down to just Sara, David, and me. We gathered around Don's bed and took turns holding his hand or talking to him during his brief flights of consciousness.

Sometime after 10:00 PM, I told Sara and David of my plan to read "The Night before Christmas." I thought it would add a special note of community if we took turns reading it. So I began:
'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

Don perked up at the mention of a mouse. I showed him the little ceramic mouse that came with the book. He chuckled and said, "Ceasar."

"That's right," I said. "They'd better not be stirring if Ceasar's around."

"Bad news for the mouse," he said.

Then we went back to the poem. Every few lines, we'd pass the book around: David, Sara, then to me again. As we were reading, a surprising quiet came over the ward. "Louder, please," one of the women watching at the next bed said. As we approached the last line of the poem, I whispered to David and Sara, "Let's do the last line together. You all know it, right?"

"I'm Jewish," Sara protested, so I held the tiny book open where she could see it, and we all three said:
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a Good Night!"
We got smiles of appreciation from around the room. Don was asleep.

We each left then, wishing Don a good night. He roused briefly for each good-bye.

It was very foggy that night, and I missed the exit ramp to Windsor. I had to go several miles out of my way before I could find another interchange and head back. In all, I arrived very late that night, but although I was exhausted, I did not feel depressed. We had done what we could to make this Christmas - bleak and freezing as it was - merry.

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Friday, December 25
Christmas Day
I told Don of the visit of the Three Wise Crones. He didn't remember them, nor did he remember David, Sara, and me reading him "The Night before Christmas."

"I'll have to hand it to Dr. Remen," I said. "She sure knows how to make an entrance."

"Yeah," he said, "she's quite a presence. And she knows how to use it."

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Saturday, December 26


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