Speechless
They rolled me into a dimly lit room that somehow resembled a big elevator. All of the Doctors and nurses were moving so quickly, and I really didn’t understand what the big deal was. It was nothing major in my book. We were just kids being kids; a simple fight that turned bad with the use of a pellet gun. The shot in my neck pissed me off more than it hurt, so I didn’t realize the severity of the wound till I came into the emergency room.
“Ok, we have a throat injury from a pellet gun, and we suspect swelling.” said the lead Doctor. I’m guessing he was in charge because he was the only person in the room who seemed to remain calm. He examined the entry wound as he leaned over my shoulder. I could smell the strong aroma of his after shave and diet Coke from the short distance he was standing. I wondered why all doctors were old; could medical school really be that long?
“Reggie, how are you feeling?” I nodded my head, which really didn’t answer the question but he understood. After all he had experienced forty years of Med school so I’m sure he comprehended.
“Great. Son we are going to have to perform surgery to make sure nothing was seriously damaged. We fear that the tissue may begin to swell, and if that happens you will not be able to breathe. It’s a simple procedure and you will be out of here in no time. Ok?” Once again I nodded my head. I really didn’t want to speak. At first when I got shot nothing changed, but after a while my voice began to sound funny. It was as if I was speaking in a bathroom. My words had a weird echo and sounded distorted. I wasn’t even going to go to the hospital, but once my mom got word what happen she rushed me in the emergency room and acted out a scene from ‘John Q’.
“Reggie, I’m going to put this mask on you. I just need you to take deep breaths and relax.” The doctor said as he lifted my head up to secure the straps of the mask. I don’t know why I expected the mask to smell funny, but it didn’t, and the air that circulated through was awkwardly cool. I tilted my head towards the doctor who was instructing one of the nurses to roll over a tray.
“What is this?” I asked while frowning at the way my voice sounded to me.
“It’s gas.” The doctor said in such a nonchalant tone. Suddenly my panic mode kicked in. Just the sound of the word gas frightened me. While I was reaching for the mask one of the nurses restrained my arm.
“Just relax Reggie, you’ll be sleep soon.” She said in such an angelic voice. Was having a soothing voice the criteria for becoming a nurse, so you can calm the patient while he’s being put to sleep like a rabid animal? I tried to lean forward, I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t. My eye lids felt heavy like I had anvils on my lashes. As my body sunk deeper into the stretcher, I wanted to yell, I even opened my mouth to scream but I couldn’t… I was speechless.
A tsunami of consciousness waved through my body, as I sat up like a child who was just baptized. The first thing I noticed was all the tubes that were plugged into my body. I felt like the project of Frankenstein or a cheap entertainment system. I began to panic once again as I snatched the iv out of my arm and yanked like I was starting a lawn mower. A small puddle of blood formed and began to gain momentum as it cascaded down my arm. Glancing at my other arm, my neck felt stiff and restricted. I rubbed my throat and felt a small metal pipe inserted. I collapsed back into the cheap pillow that was provided. As I was feeling the metal tube, I also noticed a rubber tube that traced to my nostrils. I automatically thought it was a breathing tube so I snatched it. What I thought to be half an inch turned out to be deeper. My stomach turned cartwheels and my chest began to arch. I didn’t understand what was going on, probably still in shock, so I continued to tug. The pain caused my chest to arch even higher. I relaxed and allowed my body to deflate. As I glanced down at my progress I saw blood and chunks for which I told myself were clots of flesh. My panic meter exploded as I gripped the tube in preparation to get it over with. I waited till my heartbeat was no longer beating through my hospital gown, then I snatched it. I felt the tube as it slid from my stomach to my nostrils bringing along vomit and more blood. I leaned on my side and puked what felt to be my stomach out. After the vomiting seized, I lay there gasping for air and spitting out residue and tears that escaped my eyes and fled to my mouth. Finally when the tears stopped along with the excess saliva, I wiped my face with the pillow case and sat up. I was still bothered by the metal tube in my throat, but I dared not tamper with that one. I had no idea where I was going, but I knew I had to get out of that hospital. I felt lied to.
“A simple procedure, you’ll be out of here in no time.” The doctor lied. As I tried to stand I felt yet another restraint; this time in my penis. My eyes turned to Volkswagen headlights as I felt the remaining tube. My only thought was that I didn’t do all of that for nothing, I had to finish.
My eyes were watching God as I grasped the final tube. I didn’t want to snatch this one, so I decided to just ease it out. I clawed the edge of the bed as my penis felt like it was on fire. I stopped for a second to regain my strength and motive to continue. I went for the kill and pulled harder. What I felt next was a pain unmatched, that made the nostril tube feel like a Q-tip. I fell off the edge of the bed and screamed like an amateur actress in a horror movie as I knocked over the iv machine. I laid there wondering if I had actually got it out. Either way it was pointless because I no longer had the energy to escape.
“Oh my god Reggie what have you done?” The nurse shouted as she responded to the commotion. She stood over me with her palms covering her mouth. At that moment I became scared. My body trembled like a Chihuahua surrounded by horny pit bulls. She was staring at me as if I had ripped my penis off. I reached for it to make sure, but she stopped me.
“Now we have to put everything right back in. Reggie why did you do this to yourself?” The nurse asked as she helped me back on the bed.
“This is going to hurt…” she said with a pitiful face as she began to slide the tube back into my penis. It hurt and stung fiercely but not as much as it did coming out. Now the nostril tube was a different story. As soon as she inserted the tip into my nose my body jumped at least a foot. She put her arm across my chest to restrain me, but it was very little she could do. Another nurse rushed in to assist her in holding me down.
“Let me know if at any point you can’t breathe, ok Reggie?” the first nurse asked as she continued to slide the tube through my nose and into my throat. I shook my head violently like I was experiencing an exorcism as tears flung from my body like a bathed dog.
“Reggie can you breathe?” the second nurse asked. I wanted to answer; I needed to tell her that I couldn’t. I opened my mouth but no sound came out. I was speechless…
"Reggie... Reggie can you hear me baby?" minus the pain pulsating through my entire my body I felt relaxed by the nurse calling me baby. Maybe after all of the suffering I endured I'd now be the victim of a playboy short story. With my eyes still closed I smiled at this teenage fantasy.
"Reggie, baby can you hear me hun? This is your mother." so much for that article huh. My eyelids lifted slowly like garage doors. I re-smiled at the site of mother. She returned the body language with a sense of relief. I tried to sit up but she put her hand on my shoulder and instructed me to just relax. I complied and my smile faded once I realized that the tubes were back in my body. I tried to speak but it felt as if something was in my throat blocking my words from coming out. I couldn’t even grunt or hum. My eyes translated that I was about to enter panic mode. My mother put one finger to my lips and told me to shhh. I was beginning to get angry at my failed attempts. I wanted to bite her finger off.
"Reggie, I have to tell you something. Now I want you to listen carefully and don’t get crazy on me. Your vocal cords were slightly damaged so right now you can’t speak..." she stopped and dropped her head for a second. I knew the haymaker was coming next. I didn’t have time to try to guess so i waited as she raised her head and stared me in my eyes. A pool of tears had begun to fill up her reservoir and i knew the dam would break any moment now.
"Baby, they said there is a strong possibility that you will never talk again." my dam beat hers to the punch and she instantly tried to console me.
"Baby don’t lose hope just yet, don’t give up on me Reggie. They said a possibility and that could go both ways. Don’t give up hope. Have faith in god and he will bring you through this. Just pray, cause we are all praying for you. Baby... it doesn’t end like this." I wasn’t in the mood to hear any of that. i was just told that i will never be able to speak again. Oh, I’m sorry, there’s a possibility. I knew that was just verbal medicine doctors tell the family of the victim to instill false hope. I turned my head away from my mom and faced the wall. All i could think about was how was i going to communicate for the rest of my life. Was i going to have to moan like the elders do in rest homes requesting Jello? Or even worse, was I going to have to use that robotic device that chain smokers of forty years use? My thoughts were killing me. Trust in God... God? Could he give me my voice back? Would he? Of course not. What was the purpose of taking it in the first place then? To teach me a lesson? I wasn’t in the mood to become some biblical puppet or a source of a frantic testimony in church. I was mad at the world and the worst part was I couldn’t tell a soul. In the middle of my hissy fit, my silent temper tantrum at God, my mother placed a writing tablet on my shoulder. i turned my head slowly allowing anger tears to commit suicide down my cheeks. I glanced at the tablet and then back at her; my face was a billboard advertising confusion. My mom handed me a pen and said "talk to me... tell me how you feel... write it." I smirked at the fact that even in my lowest moments my mother could still make me smile.
Our convos through paper went on for days. I didn’t remember talking to her that much when I had a voice but we seemed to go through two tablets. Soon I became used to this means of communication and actually pictured myself walking around with a miniature tablet to converse. I was accepting my fate, though I didn’t really understand it, I was beginning to live with it. My temporary happiness expired when my mother handed me the phone one night. My eye brows arched to the McDonalds logo as I wondered why she would hand me the phone as if I could really reply back to whoever was up there.
"Just listen for a sec. your grandma wants to speak to you." my mom said has she assisted me in raising the phone to my ear. "Go ahead momma, he’s listening."
"Reggie? This is grandma. I know you can’t speak right now, but i just wanted you to know that I love you and I’m praying for you; we are all praying for you. You are in everyone’s thoughts and prayers. You just trust in God and he will bring you through this. Have faith baby. God is a mighty god and capable of anything, and he loves you dearly... we all love you dearly..."
I shifted the phone to my other ear so i could hide my face from my mother. The mayor of my eyes had just received a warning that the twin dams were on the brink of collapsing once again.
"Baby just hold on, and when times get rough, when you feel like nobody understands what you’re going through, when the doctors and nurses don’t seem to have a clue, talk to God. We can’t hear you right now but he can. God can hear you Reggie. Talk to him. We love you Reggie. "
The dams broke. Tears shot down my face and I used a pillow as a silencer. The worst part about not being able to speak was not being able to tell my grandmother "i love you too." I buried my face into the pillow to the point I almost suffocated. i wanted to say something back to grandma; anything, just to let her know that i heard her, that I still existed. Maybe if I dialed I love you through the keypad... 456-8396 with U as the extension. Silly thoughts flooded my brain along with back fired tears. I wanted to say something, I needed to, but I couldn’t. I opened my mouth and nothing came out. Not even the cartoon flag that read BANG. I was speechless...
I woke up in the middle of the night to the quiet but annoying hospital orchestra. iv machines dripped, heart machines beeped, in tune with breathing machines... well, breathing. Once my eyes were awake and adjusted to the poor lighting, I noticed just how lonely this place was. When visiting hours are over every patient goes into the same condition; emotionally dead, and in my case socially as well. I couldn’t even talk to myself. It seemed as if my brains secretary had lost records of what my voice sounded like. So I had a mental tablet that I wrote on just to get my thoughts out. I focused on what my grandmother said, "Talk to god. When nobody else can hear you, he still can." or something like that. I needed to fire my brains secretary, memory, if I could ever remember to do so. I figured that since the doctors had given up on me it wouldn’t hurt to try god. At least after that I could honestly say I exhausted all options. So I called on god. I lay there on my back with my arms crossed and stared at the ceiling. My eyes went through and focused on the stars. I connected them in a pattern that I thought was a passcode that would allow me to speak to the all mighty. I called but there was no answer. I thought maybe i had called on the wrong name so I tried Jesus’s line, and then Lord's, messiah's, the guy up stairs, creator, Bruce almighty, still no answer. So I left a message.
"God, if you give me my voice back, i promise you this, the whole world will hear me" I kept it short and simple. I figured he was getting a lot of calls from this hospital anyways, so I didn’t take up too much of his precious time.
Once my eyes retracted back from the ceiling, I quickly glanced around the room. Surely a nurse would think I was going Looney if she saw me staring at the ceiling in the middle of the night. Or maybe they see a lot of that. A smirk charged up on my face when i thought about I just did and the crazy thoughts that I produced. It was funny to me but i wasn’t able to laugh. That action required voice. But my body wanted to, I was in dire need of a good chuckle. I felt a laugh building up in my gut and climbing to my throat. I began to choke a little, the same feeling I got when it was time to clean my trach out of flem. I leaned on my side and starting coughing. I tried to keep it quiet so I wouldn’t alert any nurses and disturb them from reading their () magazines. Wait, quiet? I was making noise! Speaking is only the controlled act of making noise. I quickly rolled back on my back and smiled. I had a change of mind so I rolled back to my side. Maybe this position was the key to the process. I built pressure up in my throat and tried to release it. I was hoping for any noise, any at all, even a grunt. Nothing. I tried again, nothing. I tried again, nothing. Again... speechless. And again, till my throat felt like it would explode and my trach go flying through the ceiling. Wait, the ceiling... I rolled over and concentrated. How did i use to talk? I tried to remember the simple procedure of speaking. I couldn’t remember, damn secretary. So I just lay there and tried to clear my throat. I tried over and over. Then it happened.
Nobody truly remembers their first word, but I do. My first word was " unh". Followed by a few utters of celebration profanity. I was smiling so hard that you could probably see my wisdom teeth. So I lay there again on that pillow which I was sure the same pillow I lost my voice on, and I began to speak, quietly of course. My voice sounded like heaven to me. I defied odds and did what the doctors said I wouldn’t be able to do. All by myself, and of course God. I smiled as these thoughts that I was actually saying out loud now. I wanted to tell someone but whom? So I waited. Visiting hours would start in a couple hours.
I stayed in the same position for hours that felt like days trying my best to suppress my smile as my mother in the room.
"Good morning baby." she said as she rubbed my forehead with both sides of her hand. I guess even in hospitals mothers will still play doctor.
"How are you feeling today, better?" she asked as she reached for the tablet on the nightstand. She handed it to me along with the pen and waited on my reply. I held the tablet in front of my face to hide my wisdom teeth as I pretended to write an answer. Then I handed her back the blank tablet. She glanced at it and then back at me with a puzzled look. I charged my throat up and fired.
"I’m doing fine mama, how are you?" I said with the biggest smile my facial muscles would allow. Her hands dashed to her mouth as she dropped the tablet. She began to stumble backwards and collapsed in the visitors chair with her hands still covering her mouth. I sat up to see if she was ok. I feared that I had possibly given her a heart attack. But she just stared at me with watery eyes soaking through her fingertips.
"Momma, are you ok?" I asked in my most worried voice. She didn’t reply. She just stared at me crying. She was speechless...
