Page 51 of The Life We Almost Had

‘Dr Acevedo.’ I rose to my feet. My stomach twisting itself into knots.

‘Please. Sit.’ He gestured to the chair and I knew that whatever he was about to tell me wasn’t the good news I was longing for.

The knot in my stomach pulled itself tighter.

‘We’ve withdrawn sedation from Adam and as you can see, he hasn’t woken up. That’s not to say that he won’t, but he’s currently in a coma.’

‘But he’s breathing on his own now? That must…’

‘I’m sorry it isn’t better news.’

We both looked at Adam. None of this made sense to me. My pulse was galloping. I felt like I might fall.

‘A coma?’ I struggled to recall what I knew about the condition. It was a term I’d heard a hundred times before, on TV, in movies, but in that second I couldn’t define exactly what it was.

‘It’s from a Greek word, meaning state of sleep. Adam’s brain injury has resulted in the impairment of his conscious action. His brain is active but only at base level.’

‘Right. So…’ I couldn’t think of a single intelligent thing to ask. Coma was such an innocuous word but the consequences were unimaginable. I had never felt more frightened.

I glanced at Adam.

‘But he’ll wake up?’ There was a burning behind my eyes, in my throat.

‘Typically comas last between two and four weeks. The longer a patient is in one, the less chance they have of emerging or surviving.’

‘But he’ll wake up within a month, won’t he?’

‘Mrs Curtis.’ Dr Acevedo couldn’t quite meet my eyes. ‘Whether somebody recovers from a coma is largely dependent on the severity and cause. Taking into account the blow to Adam’s head, the lack of oxygen when he was underwater, the fact he hasn’t woken after sedation was withdrawn, and his test results… you need to prepare yourself.IfAdam does wake, he may have some physical, intellectual or psychological impairment.’

The thought was horrifying. ‘So… even…’ I clenched my hands into fists. ‘Even if Adam wakes up, he might not be… the same?’

‘Similar experiences tell me that—’

‘Regardless of your experience, I don’t think you’ve had enough time to carry out proper treatment.’ My voice was high. Indignant. ‘There must besomethingyou can do.’

‘I wish there was, but there’s nothing else we can do at this stage except keep Adam comfortable and nourished.IfAdam does wake up, there would be further tests, of course.’

I couldn’t take any more of his pessimism. ‘If we were at home, in England, would they be doing anything differently?’

‘There’s nothing that can bring a patient out of a coma. It’s a waiting game.’

I felt I was the one who was drowning. I willed Adam to move, to sit up and rip the tubes and wires from his body. To prove this bloody doctor wrong.

But he didn’t.

‘Can Adam hear us?’

‘It’s impossible to know. Sometimes patients wake and recall conversations that were carried out by their bed. I’m sorry.’ He shrugged.

‘So what happens now?’

‘Now? I suggest you go and get some rest; you’ve had a rough night of it yourself. Unless you have any other questions?’

I wanted to ask, why did this happen to him? To me? To us? What would happen if Adam didn’t wake up in days, weeks, months?

Years.

I wanted to know everything. I wanted to strip back the medical terminology and the science and understand it all. Adam wasn’t a statistic,a condition. He was… he was Adam. My Adam. But I wasn’t ready to hear all of the answers and couldn’t think how to vocalize all the things I needed to say.

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