voice.
“Believe it or not, we’re actually glad when they get angry,” Dr. Ryland assured. “Anger means he’s invested in getting past this—that he hasn’t given up. It takes a fair amount of fight to come back from something like this. I know it will be uncomfortable for you, but if Max gets emotional and belligerent, I’d take that as a good sign.”
“Max pitches a great fit,” JJ replied, just picturing the tirade Max would likely throw. She’d seen him fly off the handle for far less. “If fight is a good sign, then Max is in great shape.” She filled her voice with enthusiasm she didn’t feel.
“This is hardly the time for cracks like that.” Her mother’s scowl was brittle and terse. It reminded JJ of her father and his military distaste for weakness of any kind.
They hadn’t really gotten along in the years before he died, despite JJ joining the army. Dad had lived and breathed military service in a way that JJ never could. His home had been his own personal battleground, run with absolute authority. No insubordination or weakness allowed.
Once she’d enlisted, JJ had hoped Dad would view her as more of an equal. When she’d come home on leave, shaken by what she’d seen, she’d tried to confide in him—to share her questions and anxieties. The conversation had been an absolute disaster. He couldn’t understand how battle had affected her in ways so different than his own experiences. When she’d tried to express doubts about what she saw, he would never hear it. He died three years ago while she was still on duty, yet from his grave she still felt his disappointment in her weak and troubled homecoming. JJ couldn’t shake the feeling that Arnie Jones was now fully disappointed in both his children.
“Actually, it is a perfect time for jokes.” Dr. Ryland leaned in, taking off the thick horn-rimmed glasses that gave him such an authoritative air. “Humor is one of our best weapons in this. As are calm and strength. Which is why, Mrs. Jones, I’d recommend that JJ and I be the ones to tell him.”
“Why?” Her tone provided the most convincing argument for Ryland’s strategy, sad and full of a mother’s worry.
“No mother on Earth could deliver such news without tremendous emotion. I’d only ask you to do so if we had no other options. He can’t yet respond to you while the breathing tube is in place, so it’s a delicate balance to let him respond fully without the ability to speak. It can be hard.”
When JJ’s mother balked, the doctor held up a hand. “Of course, you are welcome to do whatever you choose—the decision is entirely up to you—but I thought you would want to consider my suggestion. JJ’s had a little bit more time to come to grips with the whole situation and her background gives her more experience with these sorts of situations.” He paused to let the point sink in, then moved on from delivery to content.
“Now is not the time for cold hard facts. It would be best if we could lead Max up to his diagnosis in bits, not all at once. I do admit there isn’t much hope for Max to walk, but I don’t think it’s wise to take all of that hope away right now. The last thing we want is for Max to give up. We need him fighting.”
“I’ll do it.” JJ had tried not to ask this question, but now it couldn’t be helped. “Is he...all there? Brain-wise?” The words felt ugly and cumbersome, and she hated the resulting panic on her mother’s face.
“Cognitively, we’ve every reason to believe Max is fine. He’s on a lot of medications, so he isn’t quite himself, but we don’t see any evidence of brain damage.” Dr. Ryland gave her mother a gentle look. “If it helps, he’ll probably have no memory of the accident. He might not even remember today or tomorrow, so JJ, this likely isn’t a conversation you’ll have only one time. I like to think that takes a bit of the pressure off this first time. You will need to talk to him again once his
“Believe it or not, we’re actually glad when they get angry,” Dr. Ryland assured. “Anger means he’s invested in getting past this—that he hasn’t given up. It takes a fair amount of fight to come back from something like this. I know it will be uncomfortable for you, but if Max gets emotional and belligerent, I’d take that as a good sign.”
“Max pitches a great fit,” JJ replied, just picturing the tirade Max would likely throw. She’d seen him fly off the handle for far less. “If fight is a good sign, then Max is in great shape.” She filled her voice with enthusiasm she didn’t feel.
“This is hardly the time for cracks like that.” Her mother’s scowl was brittle and terse. It reminded JJ of her father and his military distaste for weakness of any kind.
They hadn’t really gotten along in the years before he died, despite JJ joining the army. Dad had lived and breathed military service in a way that JJ never could. His home had been his own personal battleground, run with absolute authority. No insubordination or weakness allowed.
Once she’d enlisted, JJ had hoped Dad would view her as more of an equal. When she’d come home on leave, shaken by what she’d seen, she’d tried to confide in him—to share her questions and anxieties. The conversation had been an absolute disaster. He couldn’t understand how battle had affected her in ways so different than his own experiences. When she’d tried to express doubts about what she saw, he would never hear it. He died three years ago while she was still on duty, yet from his grave she still felt his disappointment in her weak and troubled homecoming. JJ couldn’t shake the feeling that Arnie Jones was now fully disappointed in both his children.
“Actually, it is a perfect time for jokes.” Dr. Ryland leaned in, taking off the thick horn-rimmed glasses that gave him such an authoritative air. “Humor is one of our best weapons in this. As are calm and strength. Which is why, Mrs. Jones, I’d recommend that JJ and I be the ones to tell him.”
“Why?” Her tone provided the most convincing argument for Ryland’s strategy, sad and full of a mother’s worry.
“No mother on Earth could deliver such news without tremendous emotion. I’d only ask you to do so if we had no other options. He can’t yet respond to you while the breathing tube is in place, so it’s a delicate balance to let him respond fully without the ability to speak. It can be hard.”
When JJ’s mother balked, the doctor held up a hand. “Of course, you are welcome to do whatever you choose—the decision is entirely up to you—but I thought you would want to consider my suggestion. JJ’s had a little bit more time to come to grips with the whole situation and her background gives her more experience with these sorts of situations.” He paused to let the point sink in, then moved on from delivery to content.
“Now is not the time for cold hard facts. It would be best if we could lead Max up to his diagnosis in bits, not all at once. I do admit there isn’t much hope for Max to walk, but I don’t think it’s wise to take all of that hope away right now. The last thing we want is for Max to give up. We need him fighting.”
“I’ll do it.” JJ had tried not to ask this question, but now it couldn’t be helped. “Is he...all there? Brain-wise?” The words felt ugly and cumbersome, and she hated the resulting panic on her mother’s face.
“Cognitively, we’ve every reason to believe Max is fine. He’s on a lot of medications, so he isn’t quite himself, but we don’t see any evidence of brain damage.” Dr. Ryland gave her mother a gentle look. “If it helps, he’ll probably have no memory of the accident. He might not even remember today or tomorrow, so JJ, this likely isn’t a conversation you’ll have only one time. I like to think that takes a bit of the pressure off this first time. You will need to talk to him again once his
Similar Books
