He needed Liz back. He needed more than anything to talk to her. He was finding out what it was like to live without her and hated every minute of it. He couldn’t deny what the woman sleeping next door to him was saying the night before, about keeping his wife locked up somewhere and insisting on living her life.
Talk about hitting the nail on the head.
But it was still Lizzy. It was still her and he needed to bring her back.
He remembered Dr. Tai giving him some signs to look for. Things that help trigger memories. He wished he wrote them down. What Matt was trying not to remember were other things that the neurologist had told him. Conditions that go along with head trauma that may contribute to the “temporary disorder”.
Matt peeked into the bedroom where Liz was still sound asleep. He glanced around the room that had remained practically untouched the past few days.
Normally, their bedroom was very much ‘lived in’. Various pieces of women’s clothing would be tossed over the loveseat and bed. Shoe boxes piled up outside their walk-in closet, for when she struggled for a specific pair. And his most favorite, endless amount of make-up artifacts scattered over the top of their shared dresser.
Now, other than the slippers and her white terry bathrobe neatly draped over her side of the bed, everything appeared as neat as the day she arrived.
Deciding it was better she stayed asleep, he quietly slipped past their bedroom and hurried down the stairs and out the front door. He slipped out his phone and dialed the number he’d stored.
“Hi, yes this is Matthew Owen. Is Dr. Tai in this morning?” he pushed the evaluator button without waiting for a response. “Until noon? Great.” He didn’t care about his pre-scheduled appointments. “No, that won’t be necessary, but please let him know that I am on my way and will wait for him to speak with me between his patients.” Matt was not taking no for an answer.
Nearly two hours later, Matt sat on one of the bright orange chairs, deciding that pacing wasn’t going to help, but it only agitated him more. Matt stood immediately as the doctor he’d been waiting for emerged from a nearby exam room, scanning the open waiting area and nodded when he found Matt.
Matt cleared his throat. “Thank you for meeting with me on short notice.”
“Of course. Is Liz feeling okay?”
“She’s physically fine. The headaches seem to be getting better…” Matt couldn’t put to words what he needed to talk to the other man about. Personally, Matt had a strong dislike toward doctors. He viewed most of them as people with a certain level of education required to prescribe medication. He stopped seeing them as professionals with the intention of helping people a long time ago. But now, he was desperate for insight. And guidance.
When he realized Matt wasn’t finishing the thought, Dr. Tai nodded understandingly and glanced down. “The problem isn’t physical, is it?” he narrowed his eyes.
“No.”
The doctor pulled them to a corner away from the reception desk. “I remember asking if there was a traumatic event before the accident which is sometimes a factor in trauma memory loss and might affect the recovery,” he paused and waited.
“What does that mean?”
“I’m not talking about Elizabeth specifically, but there are patients with head trauma—or without—who experience traumatic events and end up with some form of amnesia.” The doctor took a breath. “And although they may be actively and desperately trying to recall memories, the reality is…the brain is fighting back.”
Matt frowned. “How?”
“They may notwishto remember,” he answered thoughtfully.
Matt’s mind was pulled somewhere other than where he was standing. He couldn’t move.
Dr. Tai pulled out a pamphlet from his oversize coat pocket and handed it to Matt. “On the far-left panel of this pamphlet, there’s a list of triggers to different types of memory loss. Unfortunately, the treatment doesn’t go very far for many of them,” he added. “The best one for Liz is time and patience.”
Matt stared down at the list. Re-reading many of the words that stood out.
“Other than the obvious head trauma that occurred at the crash, is there anything on this list that could have been a factor in her memory loss?” Dr. Tai asked after a few moments of silence between them.
Matt was at a complete loss of how to answer the well-meaning doctor.
He couldn’t blame the man for shooting off an extensive amount of information and possible elements. It was what doctors did. They recite facts and statistics. And it rarely helps when they insist, as Dr. Tai had, that they’re not talking about your case, specifically. A brain that was fighting back was no doubt something the doctor was considering.
He glanced back down at the list. Now with blurred visions. Visions that instigated him, as if intentionally. Showing him nothing but what couldn’t help his current state. A shocked Liz standing out on the porch next to his brother. Her heart pounding a million a minute when he’d questioned her. Pressured her. Accused her. All of which could easily now be considered a “factor”.
He was certain that the patient doctor assumed he was speaking in a language that Matt hadn’t understood. But his words and every word on the cursed list…now drilled a permanent hole in Matt’s head. Each one finding a way to connect to Liz. The before Liz. The now Liz. How the possibility of every move he’d made or kept himself from making that fateful morning led to her suffering. He traced a shaky thumb over the colorful glossy booklet. Everything moved slow in his reality, while a live horse race was happening in his mind.
Matt swallowed. “Could we talk aboutacute emotional distressas a possible factor?” he asked with a hoarse voice.
“Certainly. Step into my office.” The doctor motioned.
