It was
The nurses checked his vitals,
changed his IV's, repositioned him for pressure relief, and fed him his
breakfast, something that made him feel as helpless as a newborn babe. He never
did eat very much, even when he was hungry, often pretending that he didn't
have much of an appetite just so he could get it over as quickly as possible.
Even Mike was starting to get on his case about it because it was apparent that
he had begun to lose weight and his red cell count was much too low, a
situation which was in large part responsible for his steadily increasing
lethargy, Mike said.
A short time after the meal was
finished and cleared, they returned and stripped the sheets away, exposing his
body completely, making him feel as vulnerable as a man could feel. Then they
catherized him, gave him a suppository and then cleaned him up when he was
finished. The fact that they did it all with such a clinically detached, matter
of fact demeanor made it easier to endure in some ways, more difficult in
others. He wanted to be thought of as
attractive and sexy, not as some... immobile, asexual lump of flesh. That was
what he felt like. Even though he had been able to avoid being badly burned by
the spilled coffee the day before, he was swiftly losing hope. Though sensation
was beginning to return, no appreciable movement had happened since, and he
found himself becoming very discouraged again. John longed to feel Marlena's
touch, and more than anything else in his life, he wanted to lay with her in
their bed and make love to her. He wanted her to be the only one who looked at
him, the only who touched him in his most private places. Although he was now
able to endure that morning routine with very little indication of emotion,
when the nurses left him alone to go to other patients, he still found himself
fighting back tears of desolate confusion, anger, and helpless frustration.
If he strained his neck, he could
just catch a glimpse of the picture his new bride had brought in for him.
"Oh...Doc... I need you so much!" he cried, suddenly overwhelmed by
the fear of remaining paralyzed as he was for the rest of his life. Each time
he felt that intense need for her, along with it came the inevitable questions,
'What kind of a life could they have together with him in that condition?
How could he allow her to sacrifice her happiness in order to care for
him? What kind of father could he ever
hope to be to their children? What kind of a man would want to hold onto her if
he couldn't give her what she needed, what she deserved? What would he do if
she did find someone else? How would he ever survive the loss of her?
Feeling abandoned by the Lord who'd
given him a sense of peace when the incident with Roman was taking place, John
turned to prayer, trying to make sense of what was happening now--four days
later, 'Oh God... where are you... where are you now? You said you were with
me... You made me believe it was going to be okay... but it's not okay!!
It's not OKAY!!" the last two lines were shouted as loudly as he could
manage with his still limited lung capacity.
It was loud enough to be heard
outside the room by those gathered around. Laura, Abe and Lexie, Bo, Hope, and
Caroline Brady, all of whom had come by to see him just before his first real
therapy session, all of them having been informed of the movement he'd had the
previous evening. Mike, who was there with them, had told the others what had
happened and they all came to share in the good news and were standing outside
while the nurses finished with his morning care routine. Hearing John yell out
in obvious fearful frustration told them that his condition wasn't progressing
the way any of them had hoped would be the case following the unexpected return
of voluntary movement.
They all stood there for a moment,
trying to figure out what to do that would help, who should be the one to go in.
Finally, Mike asked the question, "Caroline.... could you go and see him?
He's been struggling with his faith since this happened and last night.. he was
so hopeful.. he thought God was answering his prayers and this morning just
isn't turning out the way he expected. He's really hurting and Marlena won't be
in for at least another hour or two. There was a problem with the nanny today;
she just called a few minutes ago."
"Of course I will, I haven't
seen him since.. the accident. I was concerned about how he might feel toward
me."
Abe jumped in to comment on that
worry, "Caroline, he doesn't hold what Roman did against you in any way;
he knows you had nothing to do with what happened, but he did mention wondering
why you hadn't been here."
"I know.... but I just feel
so... terrible about it.. I guess the truth is...I need to see him as much he
needs to see me," she replied with a shaky, tearful voice.
They all nodded, giving her the
unspoken encouragement she seemed to want. Caroline stepped close to the door
and knocked lightly before entering.
He turned instantly in the
direction of the sound, calling out, "Doc... is that you... I'm so glad
you're here... I really..."
Gently, she interrupted him,
saying, "No.. John, it isn't Marlena... it's me."
"Oh... Caroline...." he
said flatly, turning his neck as far in the opposite direction from her face as
it would go within the confines of the restrictive brace. She hadn't even been
in once since he was injured and he thought it was because she was siding with
Roman, supporting him instead.
His reaction did not go unnoticed
and Caroline cut right to the chase, saying, "John.... I've been wanting
to come and see you..."
He cut her off, saying
sarcastically, "Oh yea... you could have fooled me... but then I guess
that's not saying much... is it?" he added, unexpectedly thinking of how
easily he was duped by Kristen, just a year ago, marrying a substitute and
believing she had given birth in this same hospital.
A part of her understood how he might
be feeling abandoned or rejected by her and her husband. "John.... will
you hear me out? I have a lot to say to you, if you'll listen."
Suddenly, the anger flared and he
popped off, "I don't know... depends on what it is... but I'll tell you
something... if you want me to feel sorry for him... it's not going to
happen." He had been informed that Roman was in jail, awaiting a decision
about his ability to stand trial. The man was supposedly feeling miserably
guilty and didn't remember what he'd done at all. That was of no comfort to
John, and he had no sympathy for Roman's pain. He remembered every single
detail of that fateful New Year's Eve, every second of suffering from the
moment he'd locked Marlena out of the Penthouse for her own protection.
Sighing wearily in anticipation of
a difficult conversation, she sat down across from the bed, and said,
"No... no, that's not it, John... The reason I haven't come here is
because I thought that it would upset you. I'm sorry... it's obvious I've hurt
you... That is the last thing your father and I wanted to do."
His reply was instantaneous, and
the jealousy clearly evident, "You're not my mother... you're HIS mother!
Isn't that it? Doesn't it always come down to a choice between him and me...
and you had to be there for him... so I had to wait... I had to lie here... and
wonder if you.. blamed me... or if you even.. cared... what happened to
me?" He found himself fighting back a flood of emotion as he spoke.
"No.. John...you know that
isn't true! I love you and Shawn loves you.. as if you were our very own son..
you know that!"
"Do I... do I really? Ever
since he came back, you..." John stopped, not wanting to go into the
specifics of what he'd sensed from the day of his ‘almost wedding’ several months back. "Oh, never mind... It
doesn't matter anyway... Listen.. I'm really tired... and Marlena should be
here any minute... so.." he said dismissively.
Caroline was frustrated with him
and raised her voice, wanting to break through the wall he was building between
them, "John.. stop it! There are several reasons why we haven't come to
see you. First of all...you've been sleeping a lot.. and Marlena has been here
almost every waking moment. We didn't want to intrude... we didn't want to
upset you any more than necessary. I've been praying constantly for your
recovery, since the moment we were told what had happened."
The more people spoke about going
to God on his behalf, the more bitter he felt. He had prayed every hour since
the incident occurred and nothing was changing for the better. "Great...
prayer... well, I gotta tell you... it's not doing much good.. I still can't
move anything! All I can do is lie here and wait for things to happen to me...
wait for people to come see me.. wait for the swelling to go down... wait for
the nurses to come in and...take care of me.."
She hated what her son had done,
and hearing his victim speak of the reality he faced made it all that much
worse for her to bear a mother's burden for both sons. "Oh... John, I'm so
sorry... I'm sorry that we ever encouraged you and Marlena to go along with
Kristen's lies... If we hadn't done that... none of this would be happening.. I
know you're angry... and.."
With all the vigor he could muster,
John shouted at her, "You're damn right I'm angry! Your SON did this to
me! I hate him!! I HATE HIM SO MUCH!!" he cried, as the pooling liquid
tried to leak out.
Hearing him say it was like a
dagger straight through to the heart, though she realized it was only natural
for him to feel that way. Ashamed of Roman's actions, she said softly, "I
know you do... I understand that, John... I do... "
The anger faded in favor of sadness
and loss, and his voice trembled as he tried to convey his suffering, "Do
you... do you have any idea... what this is... like for me? I can't.. touch my
wife... or hold my.. children. He stole my life from me! I guess it was payback
time, huh? I stole his life... now he's taken mine. "
No matter what was the end result,
she would never believe Roman intentionally injured John so seriously. The fact
that he had landed in such a way that he was paralyzed was accidental.
"Oh.. John, you know that wasn't what happened. Honey... Roman is sick..
he needs professional help."
His moods changed like the winds,
and he screamed out in his frustration, "Help!! HE needs help? Well, so do
I... for the rest of my life.. I'll probably need help.. for everything.. I
can't even feed myself, Caroline, I can't do ANYTHING!!" There was an
awkward pause and then he seemed deceptively calm, as he shook his head and
said with an undercurrent of raging frustration, "Get out... go on... get
out of here and go back to your SON! Like you said, he's sick... he needs
you."
Caroline Brady was determined. She
realized that her adoptive son was hurting beyond belief and she made a vow to
take anything he dished out and keep returning; she scooted her chair closer to
make that point. Her love for him was steadfast and she could stand up in the
face of his bitter anger and helpless frustration. "I love you, John...
and I'm going to be here for you... always. Shawn and I both love you... and no
matter what you say... nothing about that will EVER change. You can't push us
away with your anger and frustration...or your fear. You're part of our family,
John... and you always will be," she finished, squaring herself in the
chair, now only a few feet from his bed.
"Well, I don't want to be a
part of the Brady family anymore... just go away and leave me alone." She
wasn't budging and he got angry with her for reasons he didn't quite
understand. "I SAID.. leave me alone!!"
No more words were spoken for the
moment. She just sat there quietly, taking his hand in hers, a gesture, which
though he couldn't really feel it, touched his heart nonetheless. She was
shaking her head in response, and John fell silent too, wishing he could come
up with words that would send her away. It was something he didn't understand,
but a part of him wanted her to reject him and side with Roman completely.
Maybe so he could have a target at which to vent his powerful emotions. The
Brady clan that had let him go all those years ago when the affair happened,
the family that said they would always love him yet sent him away when it was
revealed that he and Marlena had succumbed to their ongoing love and passion
for each other. That family's harshly critical reaction had wounded him deeply
and stayed with him during all the intervening years, though it was well hidden
beneath a strong facade. All these years later, Roman's actions and the reason
for them had sparked the return of that pain. It was there now, in this moment,
as if it had never left him.
"John... this is about more
than my not coming to see you these past couple of days, isn't it?"
Caroline asked, as it suddenly dawned on her what might be responsible for the
old pain she sensed below the caustic surface.
"No... it isn't.. please..
just get out of here... I don't need you... I've been doing fine all these
years... since I found out I wasn't really a Brady. I don't need a mother
anymore.. so just go on back to your *real* son. God knows he needs
someone." John finished, trying to spark her ire.
It didn't work, and she countered
firmly, "No... I'm not leaving you.. and I think I know where this is coming
from, John. You're remembering what happened when the affair was revealed..
aren't you? You've never really gotten past the way we handled that, have
you?"
He scoffed and attempted to deny
it. "No.. this has nothing to do with that....you're looking too hard,
Caroline.. I just.. "
She was undeterred. Leaning in
toward him to ensure eye contact was made, she said apologetically, "Oh..
John... honey... we were wrong.. to treat you the way we did. It was cruel the
way we rejected you and said you weren't welcome any more. John, I know we hurt
you very much... I thought we had gotten past all that, but it still hurts you,
doesn't it? This situation has reminded you of it.. hasn't it?"
Again, he tried to get her to leave
and give it up, saying, "No..... no, it doesn't... I never think of it!
That was a long time ago... Just let it go," he said, not sounding at all
convincing to Caroline.
There was a wounded look in his
eyes, behind that denial, a look she knew well from years of observing him
under various difficult or stressful circumstances. That was all it took to
confirm her suspicions. "John.... I know I'm right... Please... tell me..
how you've felt about it. I want to understand.. please, John?"
He shut his eyes and the images
were right there in his mind. He was standing in the middle of the Pub, trying
to find a way to support Marlena, but swiftly realizing his presence wasn't
helping matters in the slightest; in fact it only made them worse. It was like
being a criminal standing before a firing squad, facing death. Only the
shooters weren't strangers. They were his closest confidantes, the only people
he ever knew that truly loved him. When he lost his identity and then his wife
so shortly afterward, Marlena and the Brady's were his lifeline, helping him
hang on when all was lost. But, in that tense confrontation with his human
failings, they were sending him away, rejecting him outright. Didn't they know
or even care that he had nothing without them, without Marlena? It was a soul
penetrating pain he couldn't put into words to lose their respect, and in his
eyes that also meant losing their love.
Because he wasn't grounded with a solid sense of self, it was all
connected as far as he was concerned. John remembered the aching sense of emptiness
and the all-encompassing fear that wrapped around his heart as he stepped
outside after the nasty scene that had taken place.
He was shaking his head, trying to
deny her assertions, but losing the battle to hold back the waves of emotion
that threatened to engulf him completely. There had been so much pain and loss
in his life.
Still holding his hand in hers, she
spoke in soft tones, "John.. we were wrong.... we made a terrible mistake.
We didn't realize how.... vulnerable you were.
I'm so sorry for how we treated you then... but I love you... and Shawn
loves you. So do Kim, Kayla and Bo. We all love you as one of our own... you
know that.. now, please.. be honest with me."
It was nearly unbearable to admit,
but he intuitively sensed her genuine concern and finally responded with the
truth, "Okay.... you're right... I do remember. I was already feeling so
guilty about what we did... but to see the anger and face your rejection... I
thought I was going to die. I still.. needed you all so much. It hurt.. so
badly. I didn't know what to do... to make it better... I was so sorry... You
can't know.. how hard I tried to stay away from her... but I couldn't! I was
so… alone and scared, and I just... loved her and needed her so much! I never
meant to hurt Roman or any of you!" John battled to keep the tears at bay,
but was beginning to lose the skirmish.
Caroline leaned over the bed and
took him in her arms, stroking his hair and his face, almost as if he were a
young child, then apologized in earnest, "I know... I understand... we
didn't at that time, but we do now. We understand that the love you share with
Marlena is very special. You know you have our support in that, John. And,
honey.... I know you're scared right now too..... but God is with you... and he
will get you through these dark days. I believe you're going to recover from
this... and before you know it, you'll be walking down the aisle in St. Luke’s
the way you want to. You and Marlena will have the wedding you've been dreaming
about for so long now." John nodded in tacit agreement, but didn't say
anything more. It was too much to deal with all at once. He was growing weary
again, the release of deeply buried thoughts and feelings taking its toll on
his worn out body. Sighing with relief, he finally relented and allowed himself
to accept the love his mother was offering. Slowly, he drifted back to sleep,
while she continued to sit next to him on the edge of the bed, her arms around
him making him feel safe and secure. When he was sound asleep, the only mother
he had ever known, Caroline Brady, tucked him up under the covers and slipped
silently out of his room.........
They were
laughing... running.... playing with the kids in the park. It was Springtime
and the flowers were blooming. They were happier than ever before and his heart
was filled with joy just to look at her beautiful smiling face and to see her
golden hair glistening in the sunshine. At long last, he was married to the
woman he had loved for most all of the life he could recall, and they were
raising Belle and Brady together. Life was perfect...
Suddenly....
dark clouds appeared on the horizon and fear took hold of his heart... the
colorful flowers were gone, and with them the bright light and warmth of
Springtime. It was cold and dark, and the winds of Winter were blowing hard.
There was no more laughter, no more fun, only tears... and pain. He was flat on
his back in the cruel darkness. Images of Marlena were there again, but she was
in the arms of another man. He wanted to see the face, but he couldn't move at
all; he couldn't do anything but watch her walk away from him again.
John never did catch a
glimpse of the man's face, but he heard that familiar maniacal laughter
floating overheard, "Ha Ha Ha!! She is mine, now... John. Marlena is my
Queen of the night.... and there is nothing you can do about it, lying
helplessly in bed the way you are... I warned you about Roman... didn't I? Have
a good life...my pawn... and don't
worry.. I shall give her the world... she'll want for nothing. Ha Ha!!"
It was horrifying! How could it
possibly be happening? God couldn't want that for her; he couldn't let it
happen. John yelled after her, praying she would come to her senses, "No...
No, don't go... No, Doc.. don't leave me... I'm going to get well...you'll see.
Please, stay with me! Don't go with him... NO NO!" he screamed, willing
her to turn back toward him. She never did turn around and the images slowly
faded out, leaving him alone in the oppressive darkness that surrounded him.
As his eyelids slowly fluttered
open, he worked to force down the pictures in his mind, his breathing beginning
to return to normal. 'It isn't real... it's a dream, John... just a bad
dream, that's all.... Doc loves me... she's going to stay with me,' he told
himself. "Then why isn't she here?" asked a challenging voice in the
back of his head, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Stefano's. "If
she really loved you, she'd be here right now... wouldn't she?" John's
conscious mind argued with those doubts, 'Stop it! She does love me and I *am*
going to get well... aren't I?' he was asking the air around him, just before
he drifted off to sleep again. He wanted to move something, a finger, or a toe,
but he was asleep again before he could try. His last coherent thought was
another twofold question. ‘What if I don't ever recover? What's going to
happen then?’
Sandra H. Bondelier
1998