Jane Doe Read online

  The physical therapist had already made a visit and told her they would start therapy the next day. She’d been all sweet and bubbly—Raven was barely able to be civil to the woman. But the woman hadn’t seemed to notice.

  The room was private, a fact for which Raven was grateful. She had no desire to talk to anyone about anything. She was tired of putting up the brave front for everyone. She wanted to be left alone. Tears leaked out.

  This place had been Amanda’s choice. She’d wanted Raven to be close enough to her that she could spend time with her. Raven didn’t argue about it since it didn’t really matter to her. One place was as good as another.

  The only thing that mattered to her at the moment was remembering. If she could remember what happened to her, maybe she could move on—forget about it. How bizarre. She wanted to remember just so she could forget. Life was strange.

  8

  Raven pressed the button and moved her bed to a sitting position. She hated everything about this place—everything about herself. She wished she’d died when the monster threw her off a cliff. At least if she’d died, she’d be in heaven. Instead of here in pain—and completely helpless.

  Amanda walked in. “Hi, Sis. How are you feeling today?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “I do want to know.”

  “I doubt that very much.”

  Amanda was her cheerleader. Optimistic. Always trying to encourage her. Her sister just wanted to help—but Raven was tired. Tired of pretending.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Really? You ask me what’s wrong? Look at me. I can’t walk. I can’t even go to the bathroom by myself.”

  Amanda’s face turned splotchy red and she bit on her lip. “I know, but—”

  “I hate this place.”

  “It’s the best rehab center in the county, but we can find a different place if you want.”

  “Stop calling it a rehab center. It’s a nursing home. A nursing home for old people waiting to die and broken people like me. People who can’t take care of themselves.”

  “It’s only temporary, Raven. You’re getting better. It’s just taking some time.”

  “Yeah, right.” She held up a hand. “Amanda, just go home. Please.”

  “Why? What did I do wrong?”

  “Nothing. You didn’t do anything wrong but there’s no reason to waste your time coming here, trying to cheer me up. It is what it is, and I’m tired of pretending that everything’s OK.”

  Amanda wiped at tears. “I’m not here to cheer you up. I’m here to see you. I thought I would never see you again during all those months when you were gone. I just want to spend time with you. You can be as cranky as you want. I don’t care.”

  “I don’t want to spend time with you. Go home. Take care of your family. They need you. I don’t need you. Please just leave.”

  “You are my family.”

  Raven rubbed her head. She needed to make Amanda understand. “I’m not trying to be mean, Amanda. Really, I’m not. I just think your time is better spent taking care of your husband and kids. There’s nothing you can do for me.”

  “I’m taking care of them, but I’m not giving up on you, Raven. I know it’s hard right now, but it’s going to get better. I know it will.”

  Everyone kept promising her it would get better, but she didn’t think so. She was tired and she hurt and she wanted to be left alone. Not pushed and badgered.

  Nobody understood. Her life was over. The worst part was she didn’t even know why. No matter how hard she tried to remember what happened during those months she was missing, her mind remained a blank.

  She wasn’t acting the way God wanted her to. She took a deep breath and looked at her sister. Forcing her voice to be calm, she said, “Amanda, I love you, but you coming here every day makes me feel guilty. It makes me feel as if I’m taking you away from your family.”

  Her sister looked up at the ceiling for a moment then met her gaze straight on. “That’s a lie, Raven. That’s not it at all. At least be honest with yourself.”

  Raven hadn’t meant for this to turn into an all-out argument. “I’m tired. Please go.”

  “Tired? I don’t know why. From what I hear you refused to go to physical therapy today. And yesterday.”

  “It’s none of your business. Go home and don’t come back.”

  “It’s just like when we were kids. You whined and complained because you didn’t get to be a cheerleader like me, or be on any sports team, but it was your own fault. You refused to step up and practice. To do what you had to do.”

  “I had better things to do.”

  “Yeah, like read a book.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with reading.”

  “I didn’t say there was. But you wanted to be a cheerleader, you were just afraid to try. If you didn’t try, you wouldn’t fail. And so you never tried.”

  “So what if I wasn’t that physical of a person. So what if I preferred reading to sweating. All the reading helped make me a good reporter.”

  “I know that, but right now you have to step it up and do what the physical therapist needs you to do. Or you won’t get better. You won’t be able to walk. Ever. This is too important, Raven. You have to try.”

  “It’s none of your business.”

  “And speaking of reporting, Marnie tells me you’re refusing to talk to her. She tried to give you a couple of different writing assignments and you refused them. You loved being a reporter.”

  “Not anymore. Reporters are just liars. Their lies are ruining this country. And they’re celebrity-seeking narcissists.” The words popped out. Where had that come from? She’d never had a thought like that in her life.

  Her sister’s mouth fell open. “What are you talking about?”

  “Never mind. Stay or go, but I’m taking a nap.” She turned away from Amanda so her sister wouldn’t see the tears. Raven closed her eyes, praying for sleep. It was the only time she had any relief from…the pain. She wasn’t sure which was worse—the physical pain or the mental.

  Amanda stood by her bedside for a long time, crying.

  Raven wiped at her own tears but wouldn’t turn back to her sister.

  Finally, Amanda left.

  Raven’s tears turned into sobs. This is just too hard, God. I can’t do this.

  ~*~

  “Hello, Raven.”

  Raven stopped staring at the ceiling and looked toward the door.

  A woman who appeared to be about Raven’s own age blocked the doorway with her wheelchair. “Mind if I come in?”

  Raven wiped away tears. Time to put on the smiley face, but she wasn’t sure if she could. It was getting harder to pretend. “Does it make a difference what I want?”

  “Of course it does. I can go if that’s what you want.”

  Raven sighed. “It’s fine. Come in. I didn’t mean to be rude.” But it hadn’t stopped her from being rude to Amanda. Her sister had been so good to her and didn’t deserve to be treated that way. What was wrong with her? She loved her sister, and yet she’d been so mean to her.

  The woman smiled. Her brown hair was short but spikey all over. So cute that it made Raven self-conscious about her own long and scraggly hair. She needed to do something about it.

  “I’m sorry I haven’t been in to welcome you. I usually give people a few days to get acclimated. It’s hard getting used to a new place, so I wait a few days for people to adjust.”

  Adjust to what? Not having a life? “I don’t mean to be rude but I’m really not in the mood for a pep talk or a visit.”

  “Is that why you think I’m here? To give you a pep talk?”

  “Isn’t it?” She’d refused to go to physical therapy. And then her fight with Amanda. Nobody seemed to understand that there was no point in any of it. She just wanted people to leave her alone.

  “No, I wouldn’t call it a pep talk.” She touched her wheelchair. “This chair makes me a realist, not a cheerleader. But your sist
er did ask me to see you. She’s worried about you.”

  “And exactly who are you?”

  “I’m Gracie. I do a little of this and a little of that. Mostly, I’m a counselor and part-time chaplain.”

  “That means you’re supposed to be on my side, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Good. Then tell everyone to leave me alone. If I don’t want physical therapy that’s my business, right? If I don’t want to have my sister visit, that’s my business, too.”

  “Wrong.”

  “I don’t want to be rude, but if you aren’t on my side, then I don’t want to talk to you.”

  “Oh, I’m on your side. Make no mistake about that, Raven. But being on your side doesn’t mean I’ll allow you to hurt yourself and not speak up about it.”

  “Don’t worry about me hurting myself. Someone else already did.”

  “I know that, and I’m very sorry that happened. But you’re the one hurting yourself now. Can’t blame that on anyone else. Only you.”

  “That’s my business.”

  “That’s true enough, but I can tell you I’d give anything to not have to use this chair. Even if it meant doing physical therapy eight hours a day. Every day.”

  Raven stared at the wheelchair, suddenly ashamed of herself. She was being self-centered and narcissistic. It was hard to remember that other people had problems when she had so many of her own. “What happened? An accident?”

  “Nope. I’d like to share my story with you, but only if you want to hear it. It’s up to you, Raven.”

  “It still sort of sounds like it might be a pep talk.”

  “By the way, Raven’s an awesome name. I wish I had a cool name like that.”

  “Gracie’s a good name too.”

  “Yeah, it’s not bad, but it doesn’t have the cool factor your does.”

  “I love your hair. I need to do something with mine.”

  “I’ll have my hair person come in. Would you like that?”

  “I guess.”

  Gracie wheeled herself closer to the bed. “So do you want to hear a little of my story?”

  “Sure. As long as you don’t tell me everything will be fine. I’m so sick of hearing that.”

  “I don’t blame you. I felt the same way when I had to get in this thing.” She patted her chair. “But I’ve come to love it—sort of.”

  “You love being in a wheelchair? Why?”

  “Because it lets me go places and do things I couldn’t do without it. It’s not ideal, but it’s better than being stuck in my apartment all the time.”

  Raven stared at Gracie, curious about her story. “Where do you live?”

  “I have a small apartment in the assisted living area here. It’s in another building but nearby. Makes for an easy commute.”

  “That’s nice. What’s your job again?”

  “My title is Patient Advocate, but I’m really a counselor and a part-time chaplain. It’s not easy adjusting to being here, so I try to help in any way I can. We have a group Bible study once a week. Maybe you’d like to come this week.”

  “Probably not.”

  “That’s your choice. Anyway… Whatever a patient needs, I try to help them with it.”

  “Including pep talks, right?”

  “I suppose that’s one way to describe it, but I like to think of myself as a spiritual advisor. But yes, pep talks are good. We all need encouragement. Especially when life gets tough.”

  Raven really didn’t want a pep talk, but she liked Gracie. “So…tell me your story.”

  “When I was twenty-five, I was diagnosed with bilateral brain tumors because of a genetic condition called Neurofibromatosis Type 2. NF2 for short.”

  “Never heard of it.”

  “Me, either. Even though it’s genetic, I’m the first one on my family to have it. But I’ve learned a lot about it since then. Without going into all the ugly details, the tumors made me deaf and messed up my balance.”

  “You’re deaf?”

  Gracie touched her head.

  Raven looked at a round object on her head she hadn’t noticed before.

  “I am, but I received an ABI. An auditory brain implant. It sort of works like a cochlear implant, but it bypasses the auditory nerves that were destroyed by the tumors and goes directly to the brain.”

  “I would never have guessed.”

  “Anyway because of the NF2, I can get tumors anywhere and everywhere nerves are in my body. And that’s what really put me in the chair. I have several tumors on my spinal cord.”

  “How awful.”

  “I can still walk, but it’s painful so I don’t unless it’s necessary. I won’t lie, it’s not easy, but it could be so much worse. I mean that literally. There are many people with NF2 that are so much worse off than me. Whenever I start feeling sorry for myself, I remind myself of that.”

  “I know I should feel that way too but…” She shrugged.

  “Don’t beat yourself up about it. That doesn’t help anything. And besides you’re just at the beginning of your recovery. Give yourself time to heal—physically and spiritually. Your sister told me you’re a Christian, right?”

  Raven nodded.

  “More than anything, I’ve learned that God is faithful. He’s there waiting for you so He can do all sorts of good things for you.”

  “Why doesn’t He just do them, then?”

  Gracie shrugged. “Sometimes, He does. That’s called a miracle, but most of the time we need to keep the faith. His faithfulness and our faith bring on the miracles.”

  Miracles? That’s exactly what she needed. Raven bit her lip. “I think I’ve lost mine.” Her eyes filled with tears at the admission.

  “It’s OK. God still loves you. Just keep praying and spending time with God. Let Him take care of you now. He is faithful.”

  Raven wiped at the tears. “I feel so ashamed to admit that I’m not strong. I know I should be but I’m just not. I’ve been trying to act the right way, but I can’t pretend any longer. I just can’t do it any longer.”

  “God doesn’t need you to pretend. He just needs you to believe. To have faith. To trust Him.”

  “I don’t know how to do that. It makes me wonder if I’m even a Christian.” More tears rolled down her cheeks at her admission.

  Gracie took hold of her hand. “Since I was diagnosed, I’ve learned to trust God and to stay in the moment. To not worry about the future or to regret the past. To not let my circumstances dictate who I am. I could choose to be angry and bitter about the hand I’ve been dealt. And for a time I was, but I can tell you trusting God and depending on Him for my peace and joy is much better.”

  “That sounds like a pep talk, Gracie.” Raven smiled through her tears.

  “I suppose, but I like to think of it as a God talk not a pep talk. He hasn’t forsaken you, Raven. He’s there waiting for you, but you need to do your part.”

  “I thought I was a Christian until this happened. And now, I’m just…” She shrugged. “I don’t know what I am anymore.”

  “You can let your circumstances control you, or you can let them reveal who you are. One thing I’ve learned, thanks to a lady preacher on TV, is that I can be powerful or I can be pitiful, but I can’t be both.”

  Raven looked at Gracie. “Interesting. I sort of see what you mean.”

  “Whenever I start feeling sorry for myself, I just start repeating. Powerful or pitiful. Over and over. It’s helped me. Maybe it will help you.”

  “I’ll give it a try.”

  “Nobody told me what happened to you, but I’m assuming you had an accident of some sort.”

  She’d not planned on telling people about her missing time. It somehow felt shameful to her—as if she’d done something wrong. But Gracie seemed a safe person to talk to. “I don’t know what happened to me either. I can’t remember anything. I was found in a river in West Virginia many miles from my home in Marietta. I was missing for almost four months.”

&nb
sp; “Wow. That’s awful.” Gracie nodded. “No wonder you’re angry and confused.”

  Raven wiped at a tear. “It’s so hard.”

  “I bet.”

  After they talked for a while, Gracie looked at her watch. “I have another appointment. So would you like to do come to our weekly Bible study?” She held up her hands as if surrendering. “I promise no pep talks, just God talks.”

  “I guess it couldn’t hurt.”

  Gracie handed her an index card. “Here’s a Bible verse that’s been helpful to me.”

  Romans 8: 28

  She knew the verse. She looked at Gracie. “Do you really believe this?”

  “I know it. I hate NF2 and the tumors in my body, but God has worked it out for my good. I have a good life now, and I get to help people. I’m not special. What He did for me, He’ll do for you. But…”

  “But what?”

  “But He can’t do it without your cooperation.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean we all have choices in this life. Our choices will either honor God or not honor God.”

  “And I suppose my choice to not go to therapy doesn’t honor God?”

  Gracie smiled. “What do you think?”

  “I think I have a lot to learn about God.”

  “Great. Then how about I stop by tomorrow? To see how you’re doing. And maybe I’ll have another verse for you.”

  “I’ll be here. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

  “Yet. But you will one of these days. And remember you can be powerful or pitiful but…”

  “I can’t be both.”

  “Exactly, Raven. I know you don’t feel as if you have any power right now, but you really do. God lets you choose. You have to make the choice to overcome your circumstances. Or not.” Gracie turned her chair and left the room. Amazing Gracie.

  Raven wanted what she had— energy and hope in spite of her circumstances. What had Gracie said about circumstances?