Chapter 3
Acceptance
Beep, beep, beep.
The rhythmic sounds of the EKG machine registering heartbeat after heartbeat rebounded and echoed throughout the hospital room.
Coma.
That is the medical term for what was happening right now to the little girl who lay motionless. Well, that was not entirely true, her eyes never seemed to stop moving, always in a state of near perpetual motion.
As Andrea watched, that was the one main solace that she received throughout this whole ordeal; the fact that her daughter, always so bright and aware of her surroundings, was now down to a motionless bag of skin.
“You can wear your helmet, and your gloves every day. Just wake up. I swear I won’t argue or plead with you to stop wearing them, anymore.” Andrea pleaded.
Rapid eye movement.
A twitch of her right hand.
Shaking at the shoulders.
So many signs that her daughter was alive and fighting in there. “Please just come back to me.”
More movement.
The doctor said in these cases that movement seemed to be good. Also, he encouraged Andrea to continue talking to her, as there was a significant spike in registered brain activities whenever she di speak to her. That was why Andrea spent pretty much every waking hour here at the hospital.
At first, Andrea would go to work, but fortunately this somehow fell under the Family Medical Leave Act, meaning she could take as much time as she needed. Well not infinite time but seeing as it had only been thirty days to this point, she was well within the window of time covered. Meaning that so long as Misha woke up soon, this would all be over. She would be able to be here for her daughter when she awoke and be able to see her bright green eyes and hopefully take her home.
As for the bills, those too were somehow covered. An anonymous donor from Vegas apparently won heavily and electronically gifted it to the random GoFundMe page that had been set up for Misha. There was also the insurance from Dr. Grier’s office that was also helping to cover most of the expenses as well.
Still the whole incident seemed odd.
Again, there were so many odd occurrences, as always seemed to happen around Misha that Andrea didn’t know if it was a blessing from the Gods, a curse from below, or just one of the seemingly millions of random events that always seem to somehow follow Misha around.
Still, as a mother she couldn’t help but worry about her daughter.
Just as Andrea began to stare off anywhere else other than her daughter’s sleeping form, it happened.
Rustle.
The bed shook violently. Startled Andrea looked down to see that her daughter was beginning to shake violently.
Panic.
Once again, Andrea was powerless to stop anything that was happening. Her body froze as she saw the events happening to her daughter. Her body was shaking, her teeth were grit in determination.
Golden light seemed to radiate throughout different parts of her body.
For a moment, Andrea wondered whether she needed to get the nurse.
Annkk! Annkk! Annkk!
Just when Andrea was about to do something, the EKG that had been monitoring her steady heart beat all this time began spiking violently. Looking over the numbers on the monitor were high, much too high.
122 Heartbeats Per Minute.
134 Heartbeats Per Minute.
142 Heartbeats Per Minute.
And climbing.
Rapid breathing.
Misha began taking in and then letting out lungs full of air in violent bursts. For a moment Andrea saw an emotion on her daughter’s face. A face that had been blank and sterile for so long was now showing one clear emotion.
Determination.
Seeing the look Andrea felt a surge of hope swell up in her. Then speaking from the heart, she said the first two words that came to her.
“Fight it.”
A slight pause, and for a second Andrea was certain that her baby girl had heard her. Somehow despite everything, she felt that her daughter’s consciousness had stopped fighting whatever it was doing, and she felt a weight stare at her for a moment. Then she could swear that her daughter nodded.
She nodded.
Misha had heard, and she acknowledged the request.
Then Misha seemed to double down in her determination. This was the look that Andrea had seen numerous times, the look of complete and utter defiance. Normally, Misha would not care about anything, but on those one or two subjects that she cared about, she would ball up her feet, lower her chin just slightly, and dig her heels in. Right now, Andrea saw her doing all three. Her fingers were balled into fists, her feet were actively pressing down on the bed, and her head was elevated.
Not much, but when she hadn’t made many movements over the last month, these slight movements meant everything to Andrea.
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“Come on girl, you can do it.” Andrea shouted.
Movement.
A nurse poked her head into the room, ran over, and hit the alarm to turn off the incessant alarm of the machine. Then she looked at Misha who was spasming and bucking.
She was fighting, and better still, she was winning. Andrea was certain that, if there was anything her daughter was good at, it was winning fights. Right now, in this moment Andrea swore she would give Misha anything she wanted. Whether it was to wear her helmet always. To get new ones that would fit her ever growing head. Anything, she would get it all, so long as Misha, her Misha, came back to her.
The nurse left in a near sprint. No doubt to get a doctor or someone, but that was all external. Right now, Andrea didn’t care. For her, all that mattered was the fact that her baby girl was fighting for her life and if she was fighting, then that meant she would win.
“Okay, okay.” Dr. Lopez said, as she spoke to the frantic nurse outside and then made her way inside the room.
Bucking, spasming, fighting.
Misha was fighting, with every ounce of strength that her seven-year-old body could muster.
The Doctor came in, held a hand against her spasming and clinched hand.
“She is spiking. We need to administer a sedative.” Dr. Lopez shouted, trying to get the nurse to get the right bottle.
Hearing that, a motherly instinct kicked in. Somehow Andrea knew that administering a sedative now, when her daughter was so close to waking up, to fighting her way through this mess. That she had to stop her. That she had to do something to protect her daughter.
“NO!” Andrea snarled at the doctor.
“What?” Dr. Lopez asked, shock evident on her face while the body of the little girl spasmed below.
“Don’t you dare sedate her. Not when she is this close to waking up!” Andrea shouted over the spasming violent kicks of her daughter.
“She is going to go into cardiac arrest if we do not stop her.”
“If you stop her now, she will die. Maybe not physically, but mentally she will be gone.” Andrea said, again words and thoughts coming to her. Once again there was a slight stillness to Misha who seemed to have stopped for the moment, as if wondering if there would be a sedative applied.
“Okay, so you are refusing medical treatment for your daughter?” Dr. Lopez asked.
“I am refusing you to kill my daughter right now.” Andrea said, a note of powerful protection in her voice.
There was a moment of silence as the two stared at each other. Finally, the doctor let out a breath and began to take a step away.
Seeing that, Andrea let out a breath of relief.
Then as if waiting to see if Andrea would in fact win, that is when Misha focused inwardly again. Once again, her body began to spasm violently. Her legs and arms were kicking and flailing sporadically.
Then just as it looked like Dr. Lopez was about to do something else, it happened.
WHOOSH!
Once again, another burst of electrical energy pulsed through the room. This was just like how this all started with them being at Dr. Grier’s office. That same electromagnetic pulse that seemed to go into and through you.
Whoom.
The room being set in the middle of the hospital went dark almost immediately.
Rustle.
There were the final last few minutes of the sound of arms hitting against taught bed sheets.
Then silence.
Only the breath of the doctors and nurses could be heard. As for Andrea she was silent, as she held onto her breath with every fiber of her being.
Then glowing golden eyes opened, illuminating the dark room.
Chills.
A shiver ran down Andrea’s back. Then she watched as the eyes of her daughter tracked over the room, until they finally settled on her.
Whirr.
The moment their eyes met, the electrical tension that had been in the room suddenly drained. At the same time the mechanical devices of the hospital all began to roar back to life as the backup generators kicked in.
“Thank you, mother.” Misha said, apparently unaffected by anything happening around her. There was a slight pause, as somehow Misha had always had a hard time calling her mother, as if the term was somehow alien to her. Yet, hearing her say it right now, caused all the tension that had been building up over the past few minutes, and even the tension of the last thirty days to suddenly subside.
Then on reflex her body was moving. Even in the dark, Andrea knew where her daughter was, where her tiny hands were and she reached out to grab and hold onto the free floating appendages.
“Ohh, dear, how are you feeling?” Andrea began touching the warm hand that up until now had been seemingly cold to the touch each time she reached out to hold her.
“Yes, Misha, how are you feeling?” Dr. Lopez asked, coming from her corner of the room where she had seemingly cowered away to, only to come back now.
“I am fine Dr. Lopez.” Misha said, turning her head slightly to look at the doctor.
With the gaze and sudden calling out of the doctor’s name, caused Dr. Lopez to shiver slightly. There were obvious questions that came to mind, how did Misha know the doctor’s name? Was she conscious and aware of everything that was said and done while she was in a coma? Did she sleep during that time? Did she remember anything? Also, did she know what that final process was.
“You had us all worried there, we thought we lost you for a moment.” Dr. Lopez said, getting a tablet out and writing down a few readings that were coming from the EKG.
With that Misha just grit her teeth, something that Andrea knew all too well as the muscles in her lower jaw tightened slightly, causing her face to be scrunched forward. This was what Andrea herself did, and now she noticed the same indications in her daughter. Somehow Misha was annoyed with this doctor.
“Yes, you almost did.” Misha said, her words causing the doctor and nurse to flinch as they tried to understand what she was saying, or better still what she meant by the comment. But before they could ask, she turned her intense gaze upon Andrea.
“Thank you for stopping them, mother.”
Once again there was a slight pause between when Misha stated her thought, and then the acknowledgement of Andrea as her mother. Hearing that caused an emotional damn to explode within her heart, as she felt relief, excitement, happiness, and so many more emotions flood through her.
“I am so happy to hear that.” Andrea said, as tears began to form in her eyes. She hugged Misha, something that she knew her daughter absolutely hated, but she seemed to put up with the affection for her benefit. At least for this one time, which is what her stiff body posture seemed to be stating. Andrea even felt one of her arms curl around and hold her loosely, a sign that she accepted the embrace. Again, small things, that all added up to be much larger than they might first appear. For Misha, this was the equivalent of her crying out her eyes, and screaming “I love you,” at the top of her lungs.
The doctor and her staff had the decency to wait until the embrace was over, before she continued talking.
“Now that you are awake, is there anything you would like to do?” Dr. Lopez asked, clearly trying to get Misha to set goals that can be accomplished.
“Yes, I intend to work out and get stronger.” Misha said.
“Oh, I am afraid you were out for a long time. It might not feel like it right now, but your body is weak and will likely need some time to get back into the shape you were before. Fortunately, you are young and should be able to bounce back quickly. Also, the time that you were out was not as long as others who went through your same experience have had.” Dr. Lopez stated.
With that Misha just nodded her head in acknowledgement.
Flustered. It was clear that Dr. Lopez had expected Misha to react to the comment in some way, to ask about others, to ask anything. Yet, the fact that she remained quiet and only seemed to give a nod, which Andrea knew that nod all too well. It was the nod of I understand what you are saying, but I don’t believe a word of what you are saying.
Smirk.
Seeing the same gesture that had been used so effectively against her, being used against Dr. Lopez, an outsider, caused a smile to form on her lips. It was clear that her stubborn to a fault, and iron-willed daughter was back and in full form.
Knowing what the options were, of having this or nothing, Andrea knew she would gladly take this daughter back any day. Especially when her sass was directed at others.
Then a thought hit Andrea, causing her to ask it almost immediately.
“When do you think we will be able to leave?”
“We will need to keep her at least overnight for monitoring. As always, there is the fear that once a coma patient wakes up, they will then relapse back. While we don’t think that will be the case here, nor has this happened a lot with awakened coma patients, there is still that fear. Which is why we would like to keep her here and monitor her progress. Also, while she is here, we can begin seeing how much she has atrophied and likely come up with either a list of exercise to help, or physical therapists who can help.” Dr. Lopez said.
There was a bit more fuss. More measurements, blood samples, and other tests were taken. Then finally after multiple exhausting hours it was just Andrea and Misha.
Now that they were finally alone, just the two of them, Andrea took a deep breath and asked the hard question. A question that she knew her daughter would answer truthfully and honestly.
“How are you doing?” Andrea asked.
With that so much tension swelled up inside her as she dreaded the answer that her daughter would bring.
Then her daughter said three words that made her relax, instantly letting the tension go.
“I am fine.” Misha said. Again, that might not seem like much, but for Andrea that was exactly what she needed to hear right then and there.
“Good pumpkin,” Andrea said, reaching out and patting her daughter’s head, making sure to remove a strand of hair from her face.
Gasp.
Then realizing something, Andrea let out a burst of air. “I almost forgot. We have your helmet.”
With that, Andrea went to the little cubby that had Misha’s new set of clean cloths, her helmet and her gloves all ready to go.
“I don’t need it.” Misha said.
Hearing that, Andrea almost teared up, but then guilt filled her as they had so many arguments about wearing the helmet outside.
“No, you can wear it. I won’t argue or try to get you to stop wearing it anymore.” Andrea said, speaking into existence at least one of the changes she promised to give her daughter if she awoke.
She didn’t want to argue with her about silly things anymore. Now that she was back, this was their chance to start over, to do things right from the ground up.
“It’s fine. I mean it, I don’t need it anymore.” Misha said.
Then finally the weight of her words hit Andrea as she realized exactly what her daughter was saying. Not that she wanted to wear the helmet as a fashion accessory, but that she didn’t need it anymore.
Suddenly the memory of what happened at Dr. Grier’s office. The fact that Misha had been attacked by electricity when she took her helmet off. Then the month of agony and torture, the missed meals, showers, and appointments.
So many things that had happened, could they have been avoided had Andrea not pushed so hard to have her remove the helmet and not be so embarrassing to be with in public? Even now she hated the idea that she could be embarrassed by her daughter, was heart breaking. Now that she had a chance to experience what life would be like without her daughter, and her antics, she would gladly be embarrassed and receive stares from other parents that only looked at what her daughter was wearing, not looking at who she was.
“Please, you don’t need to change. Not for me. In fact, I need you to wear this.” Andrea said, getting out the helmet, and then offering it over with trembling hands to her daughter.
“You mean you want me to wear this, even when it is no longer necessary?” Misha asked.
“I just want you to be you. I am sorry it took me so long to accept that, but I just want you to be happy with who you are.” Andrea said.
Then with a hesitant hand, Misha who locked eyes with her mother the whole time, reached out and grabbed the helmet.
Relief.
The instant her daughter’s tiny fingers wrapped around the helmet, a wave of relief filled Andrea. Her daughter was back, awake, and she had her helmet, and suddenly the world felt like it was moving in the right direction again.
Grabbing the helmet, Misha nodded, then said one in response. A word that let Andrea know everything would be better.
“Okay.”