Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Nick woke up when he heard Dr. Takaghishi enter the room. It had been almost two days since he had been out of the coma and had the trache removed from his neck. Still, Nick was afraid to try to talk, so he still didn’t know if he could.

“Good morning, Nick. How are your feeling today?” The doctor smiled at Nick waiting for a reply.

Nick smiled back at the doctor. He didn’t make a sound or even make an attempt to reply.

“Nick, have you tried to talk yet?” The doctor asked.

Nick shook his head no. He had a pencil and paper on his nightstand and quickly wrote down the words “scared to.”

“I can understand why you’d be afraid, but you can try so we know if everything is okay. You won’t hurt anything if you talk now. It was good that you didn’t try to a few days ago, but everything should be healed up by now. Try saying the word hi.” The doctor instisted that Nick speak.

Nick opened his mouth to speak. At first air just came out. Nick cleared his throat and tried again. “Hi.” The word came out sounding like he had a severe sore throat. The clarity wasn’t there either. If you didn’t know the word he was saying, you would never know.

“Good. I think we can have a speech therapist come in today and work with you. Just keep trying to talk, it’s only going to get better, the muscles are still tight from you not talking for a few days.” Dr. Takaghishi wrote something down in Nick’s chart. “And I’m going to have you taken off of the IV today too. I’ll see you again tomorrow.”

Nick smiled. The doctor stopped at the door and turned back towards Nick.

“I said I’ll see you tomorrow.” He was waiting for Nick to say something back.

“Bye.” Nick replied, it was again faint and hoarse.

“Remember to talk.” The doctor left the room.

Nick hated the sound of his voice right now. It was hoarse, like after you have a bad cold or a sore throat. The thoughts that ran through his mind was what if this was the way he would sound for the rest of his life. It scared him to think of not being able to sing. It scared him even more to think that he could be left with a voice that would make people cringe when he spoke. Nick could start to feel the gloomy depression he was fighting slowly taking over again.

Nick looked around his hospital room in ICU. He was sick of the stale air, the machines, the tests. He was beginning to wonder if he would ever be the same again. He was tired of being dependent upon people to do things.

“Hi Nick, I’m Stacie and this is Nick from P.T. We are here to get you out of that bed and sitting in a chair today. I know you haven’t been out of the bed yet, have you?” The therapist was a petite girl with waist length blonde hair that was pulled back in a pony tail.

Nick shook his head no. He knew he was supposed to try to talk but he wasn’t happy with his voice at the moment.

“Okay, Nick, lets put your bed up so that you are sitting up more. We’ll go slow, let me know if you start to feel woozy, okay?” The male therapist talked to Nick as he started to raise the head of the bed up.

Nick raised his hand up to get them to stop. He was feeling dizzy.

“Are you okay?” Stacie asked.

Nick wanted to say wait a few minutes but opted to just shrug his shoulders.

“What’s wrong?” Stacie asked.

Nick wished she’d ask yes or no type questions. He shrugged his shoulders again.

“Are you ready to try again?” Stacie asked cheerfully.

Finally, Nick thought, a yes or no question. Nick nodded his head in agreement.

As they were moving the bed up again, Nick’s nurse came into the room.

“I’m going to borrow his left hand for a sec, we get to take the IV out,” she stated as she was shutting off the IV pump.

“Good, eh Nick, one less thing to deal with.” Stacie said happily.

Nick just smiled.

After the nurse finished pulling the IV out and putting a band-aid on his hand, she asked Nick what his pain level was.

Nick shook his head no. He was a little sore and could have used something, but he didn’t want to speak.

“What’s with this?” The nurse imitated Nick’s shaking his head. “I asked you a question and you’re supposed to answer. Has he spoke to you guys yet? The nurse asked the therapists as if Nick wasn’t in the room.

“No, not a word.” Stacie replied.

“He is to be talking, doctors orders. Now, how about the pain level, Nick.” The nurse waited for an answer.

Nick tried to say the word six but just hoarseness came out. He tried to clear his throat and say it again. This time it came out very faintly.

“Would you like something then?” The nurse asked, “and answer, don’t nod.”

God, how I hate this woman right now, Nick was thinking. “Ea” was all of the word yeah that Nick was able to say. What came out didn’t sound as clearly as it should have.

“Okay, I’ll be back. Remember to talk.”

Nick watched his nurse leave. He really hated her insistance on him talking.

“Alright Nick, let’s have you try and sit on the edge of the bed. Use the rails if you need to help yourself move.” Stacie said.

Nick struggled to move his legs over to the side of the bed. They felt so heavy. Finally after what seemed like an eternity, he was sitting up with his legs hanging over the side of the bed. He started to feel faint.

“Here, take a sip of your water.” Stacie ordered him.

Nick took a sip from the straw. The nurse came back into the room with Nick’s pain pills.

“Doesn’t it feel good to sit up Nick?” the nurse asked.

Nick cleared his throat. He hoped she would accept that as an attempt to answer her. It wasn’t.

“Well, isn’t it?” She waited for an answer.

Nick wanted to shout, God I hate you Mary to his nurse but managed to say a quiet “yes.”

“How are you feeling?” Stacie asked Nick after Mary left the room.

Nick tried to answer saying “okay” but what came out wasn’t anything the therapist understood.

“I’m sorry, did you say alright?” She was guessing.

Nick nodded, it was close enough for him.

“Okay, do you think you’re ready to stand? I’ll have Nick put the walker in front of you. Now remember to use your legs and the bed for balance and not the walker, okay?” Stacie wanted to make sure Nick understood.

Nick nodded. He waited until a therapist was on either side of him. Nick remembered the routine from the last time he was in the hospital.

As he slowly stood up, he noticed how his legs were shakey. Both therapists had grabbed one of his arms to keep him from falling.

“Easy there. Are you still doing okay?” Stacie turned to face Nick when she asked the question.

Again, as Nick answered, the word didn’t sound right.

Evidentally, Stacie thought Nick said no.

“Okay, we’ll have you sit back down then. We’ll try to have you take a few steps later today.” Stacie stayed by Nick as he was sitting back in bed. Before he could turn and get himself into position to lay down, an orderly appeared in the room with a wheelchair.

“I’m here to take you to speech therapy.”

Nick wasn’t sure he wanted to go there. He was scared that his voice would never get better.

The orderly brought the wheelchair over to the bed.

Stacie asked Nick if he would want help transferring from the bed to the chair.

This is one thing I know I can do, Nick thought to himself.

Nick used his upper body to get off the bed and into the chair.

“That was pretty good Nick, but remember next time to try and use your legs.” Stacie observed. “I’ll be back in the afternoon to have you take a few steps. See you then.”

Nick was thankful that Stacie didn’t wait for a reply from him.

“Okay, are you ready to go?” The orderly asked Nick.

Nick nodded. He did not want to go but he knew that he had no other choice. He was scared. His whole life was his voice, without that he would be nobody, he let his thoughts drift towards all of the negative things that would be if his singing was taken away from him.

“When you are done with speech, you will be going to a regular room instead of ICU. I don’t know if they told you that.” The orderly made small talk while they were in the elevator.

Nick kept his eyes focused on the floor. He did not want to make small talk with anyone. The elevator seemed to take forever to get to the sixth floor. Worse yet, when they got to the therapy room, the orderly parked the wheelchair and told him it would be a few minutes before the therapist would be over to see him.

“Great, here I sit with everyone walking by me and staring at me,” Nick thought to himself. He prayed that no one would come up and talk to him. His worse fears were realized when a young girl in her teens boldly approached him.

“Excuse me, are you Nick Carter?” She looked down at Nick when she asked him.

Nick wouldn’t and couldn’t talk to this girl. He shook his head no and put his hand up to his throat.

“What, you can’t talk? Oh my god, no, please tell me it isn’t true.” The girl looked upset. This was not what Nick had in mind, he was hoping she would think he meant no. Desperately, he tried to think of a way out of the situation. He motioned that he needed something to write on and a pencil.

The girl had a piece of paper and a pen. Nick hastily scribbled on the paper: No, sorry, you must have me confused with someone else.

As Nick handed the paper back to the girl to read, the speech therapist picked the worst time possible to come to Nick.

“Hi Nick, are you ready to get started?”

The girl’s mouth dropped open. “You are Nick Carter. Oh my god, what happened?”

Nick couldn’t speak on his behalf, he shrugged his shoulders. Thankfully, the therapist turned the wheelchair to take Nick to the room.

“What happened?” The girl still was waiting for an answer.

“I’m sorry, but it is a policy not to discuss patient’s records with strangers.” The therapist finally stepped in and responded to the girl.

Nick prayed that this was the farthest this would carry. All he needed was for this to get out to the media. They would have a field day with that.

“Okay, Nick, I want to see what range your voice is left with right now. Can you say the letter a?”

Nick looked at the woman’s hospital identification tag. Her name was Jane. It instantly made him think of his mother.

Nick tried to say “aye” but all that would come out was something that sounded like it came from an animal. It was low and gutteral.

“Can you clear your throat?” Jane asked him.

Nick nodded and cleared his throat, even that didn’t sound normal or natural.

“Try saying the letter a again but this time, try saying it softly, almost a whisper.” Jane encouraged.

“Aye.” Nick almost couldn’t hear himself, but he thought what he heard was what he wanted to say.

“Very good, Nick. Now say the letter b.” Jane wrote something down in the chart. “Do it softly again as before.”

Nick licked his lips as if he was attempting to climb a mountain. “Bee.” Again, it was very soft, but it was clear.

After spending thirty minutes with Jane working on his speech, Nick found that he could say short sentences as long as he spoke just barely whispering.

“Okay, Nick, I want you to keep talking like we are practicing, your range will improve once your muscles get stronger. It’s just best to talk the way you are right now, your voice has had a trauma and it will take time to heal.” Jane tried to encourage Nick.

“Okay, thanks.” Nick replied. It was very soft, almost too soft, but at least he could say something back for a change.

“We’ll try something new tomorrow. Okay?”

“Okay.” Nick smiled. He was praying that tomorrow he would be able to speak up louder and clearer.