Chapter Nine: Magically
(In)Convenient Concussion
Because
concussions are brain injuries, each one is different. Mine, for example, was
mild and basically meant I had a headache for almost two weeks straight and I
was sensitive to loud sounds and bright lights, but after the first hour or so
I wasn’t at all confused. Symptoms can, of course, be terrifyingly bad and take
a long time to subside, particularly if the patient has had repeated
concussions. I am not a medical professional. I want to emphasize that the
symptoms that Nick portrays in this book are not impossible—but they’re very,
very unlikely. And everyone’s reactions to those symptoms are more unlikely
still.
Chapter
nine opens with Nick acting completely out of character, “emotional, unsteady,
and volatile” (58). He continues to refuse to listen to anyone but Jenna, up to
and including not being willing to lie still for the CT scan unless Jenna stays
with him, her hand on his ankle. The technician does give her a lead apron
thing to wear for safety, but this is still against procedure and I’d be
surprised if it were allowed.
Stranger
still is that since there is no internal bleeding visible on the CT scan, the
doctor declares that “while Nick would seem out of sorts for at least a week,
he would make a full recovery (60). That’s not just something a doctor would
declare. There’d be talk about not knowing how long but probably a week or two,
and that a full recovery is likely, no promises.
Nick
can’t seem to remember anything, which means he’s repeating himself constantly
and repeatedly asking questions. While amnesia about the injury and even some
time before the injury is common, this continued trouble is not usual for a
concussion. I’m surprised that the doctors aren’t concerned about this symptom.
Furthermore, neither are the trainers who are around hockey injuries all the
time.
The
doctors say that Nick needs someone with him at all times for 48 hours, which
conveniently falls to Jenna. They also say no physical or mental exertion,
which is absolutely what they’d say—but they don’t say a dark room and no tv or
reading, which is standard procedure for concussions. The whole point is brain
rest. Not only is that not said, but when they tell Jenna she has to wake Nick
every 3 hours and keep him awake for an hour, she turns the lights on and they
play cards. Frankly, he shouldn’t be doing even that much.
(Let
me tell you how awful it was for me
to be not permitted to read for almost two weeks. ARG.)
So
Nick is brought to Jenna and Ryan’s house and they take him to the guest room.
He’s confused as to why he’s there and he gets cranky as soon as he sees Ryan.
When he reaches the guestroom, he strips to his boxers, which upsets Jenna.
Sure, she had seen half-naked
hockey players before and was used to being around them, but having one in her
house—one who wasn’t her
fiancé—stripped down to just his underwear, well, it just seemed… inappropriate (62
emphasis original).
Really,
it seems to me that Jenna should just get over it. The man is repeating himself
constantly, cranky as all heck, and suffering a traumatic brain injury. If he
wants to sleep in his boxers, let him.
After Jenna has woken Nick twice to play cards, Ryan
offers to do the next one. This surprises Jenna and me, too. ‘You’d do that?”
is her initial response (63) and Ryan says yes, that he’s the captain and he
should do this for a teammate. Ryan then asks if this’ll be what it’s like when
they have kids—sharing night-time feedings and such—and declaring it good
practice. His looking to the future with Jenna makes fall asleep happy.
I suspect this is meant to show readers that Ryan
has good qualities so that if (when) it comes time for Jenna to choose between
the two men it’s actually a bit of a quandary. But to me, this is way too
little, way too late.
No comments:
Post a Comment