After The Rain

Chapter Eleven

 

 

Who'll Stop the Rain?

 

Long as I remember... the rain's been comin down.......

 

Wondering when the raging storms of life, which seemed to come so suddenly and much too often, would ever disappear, Marlena looked at the document she found among the things the police had originally entered as evidence. It was a blood stained piece of stiff paper signifying the beginning of a joyous union while at the same time, it marked the start of yet another heavy rain. Their marriage license. Seeing it made her weep with a mixture of emotions, the familiar regret for having put off her decision between the two men in her life, rearing it's ugly head as she recalled the vivid memory of John lying on his side in agony. She couldn't seem to shake it off. He'd been so utterly helpless, not even able to call someone, lying there, tears falling involuntarily from the excruciating pain, praying someone would come and take care of him. 'Oh.. John... I'm so sorry for what you've suffered. If only I would have had the strength to tell Roman the truth from early on, like you wanted me too...none of this would be happening now.'

           

Marlena Evans-Black.... that was what it said on most of the mail she was perusing. And then there was the marriage license itself, reminding her of the name change, as well as the ordeal she and her new husband were facing. It was something she'd dreamed about for so long, marrying the man she loved with all her heart and that dream had finally come true, but at what price? John was paralyzed from the neck down and Roman was in jail, awaiting a decision about his competence to stand trial. It was all so unbelievable that at times she tried to force it out of her mind, but not this morning.

           

She was spending time with the children and they were asking questions, lots of them, ones she knew she needed to answer. It was a daunting task she wasn't sure she had the strength to handle. However, she had no choice; they had a right to know the truth and it had to be today because John desperately needed to see them. Marlena, along with Laura and Mike Horton believed it was vital to his recovery.

           

"Mommy.... what really happened to Daddy? Is he sick? How come we didn't get to go see him yet?" they asked in rapid succession.

           

Before she could answer, Brady added another one, "Yea... the kids at the playground said Uncle Roman did a very bad thing and he hurt Daddy. Mommy, how come you didn't tell us?"

           

With a weary sigh, Marlena responded with an apology, "Oh... my sweethearts.... I'm sorry... I should have sat down with you before now... It's just been so.. hard for Mommy to think straight. "

           

"What's wrong with Daddy?" asked Belle again, realizing that it had to be serious by the worried expression on her mother's face.

           

Blowing out a long breath, she began to tell them, "Oh.... I don't know where to start... But, you aren't babies anymore and I guess I need to try to treat you like the big boy and girl that you are now." When they were settled down on the couch next to her, she began to give them the details they were seeking, "Okay... your Daddy was injured... very badly. You're right... Roman did hurt him...they had a... bad argument and Daddy fell and hit the back of his neck very hard against a coffee table. That caused a big bump on his neck and right now... Daddy can't..." Just telling that much made her feel his pain, not to mention her own, which there wasn't sufficient time to consider, "..well, he can't move much of anything below that spot. Sweety... he's paralyzed from the neck down."

 

Clouds of mystery pourin' confusion on the ground....

 

           

Their tiny faces clouded over with fear and confusion and then Belle made the next logical inquiry, "Will he always.. be like that, Mommy?"

           

Sighing worriedly, she tried to hide the fear, but wasn't quite successful. Shaking her head slightly, she answered anxiously, "Oh.. I hope not, honey... but no one knows for sure. Daddy did move a little bit last night and he's beginning to feel things again. The doctors say those are good signs that he'll get better one day."

           

"I sure hope so, Mommy.. he must be so sad..and scared.." Brady's heart was aching for his father and his mind was swirling with questions. Remembering something she'd said earlier when she was trying to prepare them for a visit, he asked, "You said before that he looks different... how come?"

           

It was a struggle to answer; she felt so awful for John and the image of his often teary eyes returned frequently when they were apart for more than a few minutes. She knew he was trying to be strong, but this was beyond the normal, and he couldn't quite control the tide of emotions washing over him. It was work for her to control it herself, "Well... let me see if I can explain this... you see... he's lying in bed and because he can't move, he can't take care of himself, so there are all sorts of tubes and things and machines to help him. He also has a brace around his head and neck to keep him from being hurt any further. It looks very different and it covers up most of his face... Also, his muscles aren't so strong right now....so he can't hold your hand or hug you.. and honey.. all of that makes Daddy sad inside. His voice is also very weak and sometimes you have to lean over to hear him when he's talking to you."

           

Belle was now weeping for her father; he was always so active and she was afraid to see him the way her mother described, as was Brady. "Poor Daddy.. he must be so afraid," repeated his loving son with great concern, as tears of sympathy filled his little eyes, having drawn a conclusion about what it must be like for his father to be lying helpless in a hospital bed. "Mommy... what can we do to help Daddy feel better?" Belle asked, recovering slightly from the initial shock reaction to the bad news.

           

How she wished she knew the answer to that one. It was a question Marlena had been asking herself since the very first moment their living nightmare began, "I'm not sure sweetheart, other than going to see him, telling him how much we love him and trying real hard not to bring up the things that he can’t do anymore.”

 

<<<<< missing section here>>>>>

 

hated even telling them, but realizing they were bound to hear it somewhere, she answered honestly, "Well, it means... a marriage is breaking up.. It's when two people who.. used to love each other decide to stop being married."

           

"Like you and uncle Roman?" Brady asked

           

It made her wince, but not out of regret; it was because it reminded her of who was responsible for the fact that this conversation was even taking place. "Right....like me and uncle Roman."

           

"Mommy... why did he hurt our Daddy? Did Daddy do a bad thing to him to make Uncle Roman hate him so much?"

           

How could she possibly explain a concept such as a drunken jealous rage to an innocent four and five year old? She decided not to try to take that one on at all, saying what she believed they could handle, "Oh... no, baby... Daddy didn't do anything wrong... and I don't really know why Uncle Roman hurt him... I wish I could understand it... then I would explain it to you. Sometimes there aren't any answers... The only thing I can say is that... Roman has a sickness that made him do it and he needs help so he won't ever do anything like that again."

           

Brady's face bore a strange expression that was a mixture of anger and forgiveness, "Oh... well.. I sure wish we knew he was sick before... so we could have stopped him from hurting Daddy. It kinda makes me mad."

           

"Me too, honey... me too." Marlena was crying again... and she felt the rage toward Roman burning inside, as she imagined what it might be like for all of them if John were to remain paralyzed for the rest of his life... 

 

Good men through the ages, tryin' to find the sun

And, I wonder, still I wonder

Who'll stop the rain..........

           

Once again, John was waiting for someone to come and see him. Upon awakening, Mike had finally told him that Marlena would be late because of a problem with the nanny. The infernal waiting around for everything was one of the hardest parts of it. He had no control over his arms and legs, no control over his bodily functions, no control over when things happened during his day... when he ate.... when he had therapy... when the nurses came... when visitors stopped by to see him... John was essentially powerless to affect his environment... and he hated it. The sense of helpless frustration grew worse as each day passed without any real hope for recovery.

           

He glanced down toward his feet; if he strained he could see the raised spot in the sheets. He shut his eyes and used every bit of will and grit and determination he had inside to wiggle a toe... But... there was nothing... nothing at all... "Dammit! Why can't I move yet... they said the swelling was starting to go down.." Mike kept telling him not to give up hope, but that was definitely something which was easier said than done.   

           

Suddenly, the tears came again and that made him mad; it made him feel weak. At his worst moment, the door opened, admitting Bo and Shawn Brady and he labored to shut down his emotions believing they would see him as weak too. He turned his head so as to hide the evidence, but he couldn't quite manage to stem the flow of moisture or squelch the slight sounds of distress that begged for release.

           

Upon seeing John's anguished face, Shawn was immediately overcome with emotion himself and felt the salty liquid filling his old Irish eyes as well. "Oh.. son.. I'm so sorry for what he did to you... it's okay... let it out... you just let it all out, John.... no one thinks worse of ya... for feeling down... "

           

That was all the permission he needed, and the tears leaked out steadily, the flood of emotions soon making it hard for him to speak, "Oh.. Pop! I'm... starting.. to get... really scared! They said... I should... be... moving.. by now... and I can't...  What am I gonna do, Pop?"

           

His old heart was breaking for the results of his biological son's brutal actions toward this sad young man whom he also loved as a son. With an emotion laden voice, Shawn reasurred his son of the support that would always be there, "Oh.. Johnny.. I love ya, son... I don't know what's going to happen... but I know... your mother and I are here... we'll always be here for you... no matter what.."

           

"So will I, bro... and Hope and Marlena, Abe Lexie, Laura, Mike, Carrie.... there are so many people who love you... We're all praying and we're all going to be by your side.. don't forget that.."

           

John had been working not to let the fear control him, but it was growing more difficult as each day came and went. "I won't.. it's just that.. I can't.. imagine...  not ever.. walking again.. not holding Belle and Brady... in my arms.. Never being able to... Oh, God... Shawn... what about, Marlena? If I'm going to be like this for the rest of my life.. how can I ask her to stay with me? What kind of a man... would want to... hold onto her? She deserves.. so much better.. but I... don't think.. I can... let her.. go.. I don't think.. I could... make it.. without her..." That was all he had the strength for, the fear taking his heart hostage.

           

Shawn responded by carefully placing his arms around his adoptive son... as if he were a young child in need of comforting. "Shh... it's alright... it's going to be allright... Marlena loves you, John... she wants to be with you. She's a strong woman... she can handle this."

           

Bo understood, and felt compelled to share his observations and give his support, "John..... I've talked with her... she's not staying out of obligation... Marlena really loves you, man... What happened to you doesn't change all that... Sure... it's going to be tough.... your recovery is going to be hell on you... on both of you... but you have to believe in the love you share... that's the only thing that'll get you through it.. If you can't have faith in anything else right now... trust in her love for you... it's real, John.. and it's going to survive this."

             

Caroline had stepped into the room, and was silent for a minute or two. At this point, she wanted to state her firm belief, one obtained through fervent prayer, "And so will you, John... you will get through this.. no matter what happens from here on out.. I know you're going to make it back. I believe that with all my heart. God has not abandoned you... you're going to walk again.. and you're going to get the use of your arms and hands too."

           

Lexie poked her head in briefly and upon hearing her friend's distress was compelled to add some encouraging words, "They're right, John... just give it a little more time... the swelling is still going down... and you're getting more sensation... that's good news.. "

           

They all kept talking, but he wasn't listening.... something was happening... he couldn't decide what, however. Vaguely, he recalled something that the nurses had taught him... What was it called? Before he could retrieve it from memory, the symptoms were upon him....

           

Bo, who was sitting a little further away than his father, noticed it first. "John... what's wrong?" he asked, alarmed by the expression on his brother's face. There was no answer and he knew it was pain of some sort. "John.... hey..  tell us what's happening?"

           

"My head... it's... pounding... bad... real bad.." Bo moved closer and noticed John's face was flushed and he was already beginning to sweat, not good signs at all.

           

"Pop.... go get Mike and Doctor Jacobs or Collins...right now.." He said it very calmly, but the urgency was evident in his eyes... he just didn't want to alarm John but he remembered what Marlena had told them all. These were early symptoms of a serious condition with some long name Bo couldn't recall. All he did remember was that a pounding headache that came without warning was bad news.

           

Shawn didn't realize that, but he was a man who knew when to listen and obey without question. He nodded slightly, letting Bo know he understood that time was of the essence, then briefly touched John's face and said, "I'll be right back, son you just.. take it easy and I'll get you some help."

           

It barely registered... his head was spinning by this point, his blood pressure rising quite rapidly. Bo sat with him, saying quietly, "It's okay, bro... Mike's coming ....you're gonna be okay.... don't worry."

           

From somewhere far away there were comforting words being spoken by someone who cared; his spirit knew it and he hung on, but everything that followed happened in a blur.

           

"His pressure's way up," Mike said for Bo and Shawn's benefit. To the nurses he said, "It's 240/130... we're in serious trouble here... Get me a 40mg bolus... Apresoline... Stat! And, I want the standard sublingual dose of Procardia too.. just in case... We've got to get this down fast! Anybody know what caused it?" he said looking to his nurses, hoping someone did.        

           

Julie was there this time, and she'd been checking all obvious sources for the stimulus which had precipitated the crisis, "I've got it.. the catheter's plugged.."    

           

"Drain it and then pull it... we'll start him on an intermittent schedule as soon as we resolve this." When the task was complete he asked for another reading, "How's that pressure doing?" he said in rapid succession, watching John closely for any noticeable changes.

           

"Still 200/110 doctor.." Julie answered, the disappointment evident in her voice. She had grown attached to John and his family in short order and she hated to think of her patient becoming an invalid because of a stroke that, in her mind, should have been prevented.

           

"Dammit! Where's that drug?" Mike shouted, feeling aggravated. In one more second, he was administering it himself and praying the pressure would come down quickly enough.

           

Suddenly, John's face became contorted and he screamed in pain; "AHH!!" his eyes rolled back in his head and then he went out completely. "Oh... no... John, no... don't do this to me.... come on.. don't do this!" Mike was saying anxiously as he took his patient's vital signs again, just before barking out another round of orders to the nurses.

           

"Mike... what's happening to him?" Bo asked. He could see that Mike was extremely concerned about something.

           

"With an indefinable emotion, he told them what he conjectured, "I can't say with absolute certainty... but I think he's.. having a stroke, Bo... I'm sorry."

           

"A stroke... but he's so young.. how can that be, Mike?" Shawn asked incredulously.

           

"It's because of what happened with his blood pressure... it's called autonomic dysreflexia... the headache was the first symptom. You did the right thing in calling me, but it happened so fast. There wasn't anything anyone could have done."

           

As much as he hated to ask, Bo had to know, "Mike... how bad was it?"

           

Administering more IV medication, Mike answered the only way he could, sounding very discouraged, "It's just too soon to tell, I'm sorry. We'll let you know when we learn something. Until then... I suggest you take a breather... that was pretty stressful. John's going to be out for quite awhile at this point. We'll be running a battery of tests and I'll call you with the results when I've got them."

 

I went down to Virginia, seekin' shelter from the storm

Caught up in the fable, I watched the tower grow

Five years and the new deal, wrapped in golden chains

And I wonder, still I wonder

Who'll stop the rain.......

           

An hour or so later, Mike was becoming concerned for his patient, whom he couldn't seem to rouse. Bo and Shawn had tried already as well, but there was no response other than the occasional flutter of his eyelids when his name was called. "John.. can you hear me?" There was still no response at all. "John...please.. I want to tell you what happened; you need to understand this."

           

He didn't want to know and he told them so by shaking his head slightly, hoping they'd leave it at that, but realizing they probably wouldn't. Mike was going to tell him some more bad news. "John... you had a serious incident.. it was autonomic dysreflexia... and your blood pressure skyrocketed... we couldn't get it to come down quickly enough." Mike paused, hating to tell his already depressed patient more negative news, "I'm sorry, but you... suffered a stroke, John."

           

That didn't make any sense to him and he struggled to say what he was thinking. It was so hard to get the words out and he didn't understand why that was the case. "S...st..roke? Young.... no.. sss..str.. oke.."

           

"I know... I know.. it seems like you're too young for a stroke... It happens sometimes... but John.. it was mild and you're getting some medication that will help you. The prognosis is very good... and I don't think it's going to affect your overall recovery very much. Please don't let this discourage you. "

           

The connections weren't clear... he couldn't get it all. All John could think of was that having a stroke made someone an invalid in a wheelchair like…. "Vic..tor... had... ss.. stroke... c.. can't... talk.. cc... can't.. move... No... hope... no hope..." he muttered forlornly, beginning to withdraw into his mind.

           

Mike was firm with him, putting his hands on his patient's face and turning his head to make sure their eyes met as he spoke, "No.. John... you didn't have what Victor had. Your stroke was very different.. much milder... don't compare them. You're going to be allright, John... please believe me.. the medication we gave you.. it's working.. you're going to come through this...."

           

It was such a battle to think and formulate speech, but he was angry and wanted to say his piece, "Lies...you said... swelling down... should be..m.. moving... not... true... not...b.. better."

           

"John.. I'm not lying... you were improving.. not quickly, but sensation was returning John.. that was a good sign. This is just a little setback... don't give up... there's still hope for..." Mike stopped speaking when he noticed that John wasn't listening any longer. He had shut his eyes and turned his head slightly. All further attempts to capture his attention met with failure, and Mike decided his patient needed some time by himself to begin to cope with what had taken place.

           

"Alright... I know this is very upsetting... I'm going to leave you alone for a little while. I'm sure Marlena will be here soon. Hang in there..." He hoped he was telling the truth and that it wouldn't be much longer before she arrived. Marlena was probably the only person who could reach inside and keep him with them, but she was unavailable for the moment. There was no response as a result of paging her and her cell phone was presumably turned off or somewhere out of range. Mike resigned himself to having all the other family members make the attempt in her absence, praying all the while that she would call soon to check in on her husband, or better yet, come to see him.

 

Heard the singers playin'

How we cheered for more

The crowd had rushed together, tryin' to keep warm

Still the rain kept pourin'

Fallin' on my ears........

           

Marlena and the kids were laughing by the time the call came in. They had been off to the park and for once she didn't take a beeper or a cell phone; she just wanted an hour alone with her children. The phone rang immediately after she shut the door behind them. As soon as the tone of voice registered, she knew there would be no more laughter for quite awhile. "Mike... just say it."

           

"Oh... Marlena... I don't know how to tell you this.. but..."

           

The fear was nearly crippling; he couldn't have died, could he? "Mike is he..." she started to ask.

           

Recognizing instantly what she thought, the young doctor said apologetically, "Oh... yes.. he's alive... I'm sorry if I made you think differently, but Marlena there's a problem…he.. suffered a stroke."

           

That was horrifying on top of everything else. "A stroke? Oh my God! Why, Mike... what... what happened?" How much more could he take,  how much more could she handle?

           

Sighing tiredly, feeling thoroughly frustrated and worried for his patient and friend, Mike explained the events as he knew them, "He had an episode of autonomic dysreflexia... Bo and Shawn were with him and they got help immediately. Marlena... his pressure went up so fast we couldn't get it down..... there was some kind of a problem with the catheter...and his bladder was full... I don't know exactly... but he had a stroke before we could get the pressure down... I'm *so* sorry! " Mike was near the release of tears. John had been so discouraged already and now a severe depression was apparently taking a stronghold.

           

Covering her mouth with her hands, she cried out, "Oh.. God!" She couldn't even think straight. It took her several long moments to regain emotional control, during which Mike did the same. "How bad is it, Mike?" she asked, at the same time dreading and desperately needing to know the answer.

           

"Well, the stroke itself seems pretty mild; he has some additional weakness on the left side and his speech is slightly slurred. I think he's having some trouble with both receptive and expressive abilities, but I'm not certain because we haven't been able to do any formal testing. John won't let us."

           

After waiting long enough for her to respond, he continued when she didn't, "Marlena... I really think that he's going to recover from this... physically, but it's his mood that concerns me. He's shutting down, Marlena... for the last hour he's been withdrawing... he's completely unresponsive and now he won't even open his eyes. I've tried everything I can think of to get him to understand that what happened doesn't mean there's no hope for recovery. Shawn and Caroline are here, Bo.. Hope.. Abe, Lexie...even Carrie... They've all tried... and nothing. He just lies there...in silence. I was hoping you could bring the kids to see him... maybe that'll help."

           

"Oh... of course I will... I've been preparing them for a visit anyway. We were going to be there in a little while... Tell him.... Oh, Mike... tell him we all love him and that we know he's going to get better." It was more than she could handle and she wanted to let go and breakdown in tears, to run away and hide from the world, from the pain and fear she felt, but she couldn't do that. John needed her like never before and she had to be strong for him. Though she wasn't certain herself, she had to make him see that there wouldn't always be such stormy darkness, that the sun would shine down on them again and they'd see another rainbow.

 

And, I wonder, still I wonder

Who'll stop the rain........

 

He was alone and glad of it; all he could do now was weep anyway, his tears falling down like rain. Mike said that it was normal. "Emotional lability" was what he called it, a condition caused by the stroke. A stroke--how could he have suffered a stroke when he wasn't even 45 years old? It was unheard of for someone his age. In any event, it left him feeling utterly hopeless and helpless to face another setback like that and John slowly began to shut out the real world, his mind drifting off to places and times when he was happy and free, able to run and play with Marlena and the children, and back to those early days when they were young and so much in love, when they had the world by the tail...

 

And I wonder, still I wonder

Who'll stop the rain.......

           

Each blissful memory took him farther and farther away from external reality... he was long gone by the time Marlena and the children came in to see him. "John... honey... it's Marlena... I have a surprise for you," she was saying cheerfully.

           

Somewhere in the distance there was a sound he thought he should recognize, a voice. It was soothing and he knew it well. It registered at the spirit level, and he knew he should respond to it, but something stopped him, some elemental fear.

           

"Honey... Mike tells me the stroke was very mild... there's no reason to give up... John, please... open your eyes... look at me.. talk to me..." Still nothing at all. Marlena began to cry in earnest, desperate to reach him. Caressing his cheeks, she begged him to come back to her, "Oh, John... I love you, I *need* you.. honey... please don't give up hope! please, John!"

           

It was a foregone conclusion once he heard her crying; no matter how frightened and despondent he was, John couldn't let her cry alone. 'Doc needs me,' was the first rational thought that came to mind, 'can't let her down.'

           

He didn't move his head, but his eyelids fluttered and a lone tear found its way out. Her husband was there and he was feeling, she could work with that. "John... I know you're scared and the stroke left you feeling very discouraged, but you can't give in to the despair.. don't let this beat you... "

           

As hard as one part fought to stay where he was, in the past, in the pleasant memories of happier days, that other part, the part that loved this woman in the present, fought harder and won. When his eyes slowly opened, they were filled with moisture. "Doc... Oh, Doc!" he cried in a voice which was the embodiment of desperate fear and the need to love and be loved. It was all he could manage to say. it was all he needed to say.

           

Tenderly caressing his cheeks, she spoke apologetically, "Oh, John... honey... I'm so sorry... I wasn't here with you... you must have been so frightened. I should have been here!" she cried, feeling guilty, though her mind told her that wasn't logical. She had been with their children and it was time well spent. They were prepared now. They were ready to be there for him too, to encourage and give him love and affection he so dearly needed to survive the crisis he was experiencing. Their energy and innocence, their undying love for him and their unbridled enthusiasm were just what the doctor ordered, if only she could bring him fully to the present.

           

"What's going to...ha.. happen to me, Doc? What are we... gonna d..do?" he said anxiously.

           

Her response was spoken with the conviction of the heart, while staring into his frightened blue eyes, which mirrored the worry in hers, "We're going to survive, John... We're going to love each other and no matter what happens... we're going to get through this.. together! That's what we're going to do."

           

"You really...b.. believe that?" he asked, so afraid of losing her in the long run. "Even if..." he started worriedly, but stopped, not wanting to say it out loud, feeling somehow like that would make it more real.

           

Realizing that the words needed to be spoken, she said what she knew he meant, "Even if you're permanently disabled." After a pause, she too felt the stream of salty droplets cascading ever downward. She was as frightened as she ever remembered feeling, but her belief in their love was stronger. Speaking from that steadfast faith, she said, "Honey... I *love* you, and we are going to be together for the rest of our lives. Nothing is EVER going to change that!" Climbing into bed with him, she held him in her arms and together they wept with the power of mixed emotions.

 

And I wonder, still I wonder

Who'll stop the rain.......

 

Lyrics in body of chapter taken from Credence Clearwater Revival song of same title

 

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After the Rain Title

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Sandra H. Bondelier

1998