What is to be Done

The TV glowed iridescently in the white sterile room. It was the sole source of stimuli in the empty space. Maintenance of a linear notion of time was an unachievable task for him with his present state in the hospital bed. He was enraptured by the glow of the television; the moving figures on the screen debated ferociously and he felt compelled innately to watch. The show itself was confusing for him. He was not sure as to whether he was watching a reality tv show, a comedy or a political debate. There were two figures arguing on screen. One was quite a loud and bombastic character whose appearance was that of a used car salesman. The other was a professional, composed and calm, which fostered a sense of dissonance and confusion in him as he watched.

“America needs to work more! America needs to work harder!”

He heard the towering bombast exclaim as he waved his hands wildly in the air. He focused upon his ridiculous appearance and convinced himself he was watching a gameshow.

“This is why we need a new president. The next President of this country should display compassion for the people of this country. What is this country if its people spend every waking minute of their lives toiling at work. Our people should enjoy their lives. This is a land of opportunity,” the composed woman retorted.

A white coat obstructed his view of the television’s debate.

“Phil, Phil? Hello, Phil. I am your doctor, Dr. Jeffrey Holmes. If I could just have your attention for a couple minutes to talk with you.”

He looked up at the Doctor. There seemed a stark sense of worry that pervaded his entire presence as he continued, “Phil? Good. Good that you can hear me. Do you know where you are? You are in a rehabilitation hospital. You have suffered a traumatic brain injury in an accident. Your short-term memory seems to be greatly affected along with some other parts of your memory as well as some cognitive function.

You’re going to have to stay here while we evaluate a proper course of action moving forward.

We will hope for the best but it is necessary to have realistic expectations.”

The doctor turned abruptly and left the room as the utterance left his lips. His pocket was vibrating and he left quickly.

As the medical professional left the room, he became aware that he couldn’t recall the Doctor’s name and that he didn’t remember his own name. As the man left the room, he realized he did not remember anything the man had said.

“Americans love work! Work, work, work, that is what makes Americans happy!” The bombastic suit yelled himself back into his attention. His thinning bright hair waved chaotically as he gesticulated in massive theatrical motions.

He dozed off into a nap as his head seemed to spin in circles and the yelling resounded off the walls of the empty room. The echoes sadly swelling and surrounded him into a lullaby to sleep.

“So, Doctor, what are his options? How much longer can he stay here? Can Phil continue to receive treatment and physical therapy? I’m all he has. I’m his only family.”

He awoke to these words. He recognized the voice of the woman who spoke. He was confident that he knew her but he felt lost and could not place where…

“Phil? Phil. It’s your Aunt Mary. How are you? Are you okay? I’m sorry I don’t have a lot of time, I am on lunch break and have to go back to the salon. I have been talking to the Doctor. They are trying to figure out your situation. Because you might not be able to work, you might not have coverage to receive further rehabilitation. We might have to figure out what we can do... Oh shit. I have to run. I promise I will be back in three days. That’s the best I can do with work. I’m sorry.”

He watched her quickly leave the room and he was left with a feeling of longing deep in his gut without an understanding as to why he felt that way. Even though he felt an intense flutter in his chest alone in the room, the weight of his eyelids was great and he slowly drifted back to sleep.

He opened his eyes to the presence of the Doctor stoic as he stood at the bed looking down at him.

“Phil, good morning. I have some bad news… We have determined that you will not be able to return to work because of the severity of your injury and your condition. Subsequently, your care here is no longer available to you because you will not have employment to subsidize your care that would be covered by your work. We need these beds for patients who can pay and I am sorry that we cannot do better for you. If you could sign this paper right here so that we can discharge you.”

The Doctor placed the paper in front of him and he signed it without thought. The Doctor left the room and came back shortly with a bag of possessions that he left for him. He helped the patient get out of his hospital gown and into a set of clothes that he felt more comfortable wearing. He sat in the clothes for a brief moment as the Doctor and a nurse helped him out of the bed and into a chair.

They rolled out of the room and down the hallway and while rolling, he decided to open the bag he was given to look at its contents. There was a wallet and a phone as well as a small red locket on a golden chain in the shape of a heart. There was still a tag attached to the locket and it looked new. He couldn’t remember where it came from or who it was for. The Doctor talked continuously as he rolled him down the hallway into the elevator. He did not understand what was happening.

As they exited the elevator, he saw it was a very bright day outside. Automatic doors opened into a fresh-smelling spring world of boisterous noise lush with city traffic and banter as the Doctor turned the chair around so that they faced each other.

The Doctor took a knee so that they were eye level for the first time in the history of their conversations. “I am sorry we can’t do more for you, Phil” He said. “I wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors. Take care.”

The Doctor left him and he watched him walk back into the hospital as all memory of the Doctor faded from his mind as his physical presence evaporated from his view. He sat in the rolling chair for a while looking at the trees and various people moving on the sidewalk. The birds were chirping and the wonder of his surroundings became a calm scene for him to inhabit.

There was a dirty loud and angry person on the sidewalk screaming, so he rolled closer to him wheeling in his chair. As he came close, the screams became more audible: “Do you want to be saved?!?!” He wheeled closer and closer to the screaming man, and listened for a period of time he could not measure. He listened to the person’s speech enveloped in the man’s passion and forgot where he was or what was to be done next.