Karen D. Badger - Yesterday Once More
Dedication
To Babs:
Here’s to scar-ified pavement, raise-ified drains and holeified tires! Thank you for making me laugh and for teaching me to believe in myself again. Never doubt that our time together was anything but phenomenal. You made me feel treasured. You made me feel loved. You made me feel beautiful. Thank you for all of those things, and so much more. You will always own a special piece of my heart. I love you, and miss you. Be happy. You deserve that and so much more.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, locales and events are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
YESTERDAY ONCE MORE
Copyright © 2008 by Karen Badger
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher, save for brief quotations used in critical articles or reviews.
Cover design by Ann Phillips
A Blue Feather Book
Published by Blue Feather Books, Ltd.
P.O. Box 5867
Atlanta, GA 31107-5967
www.bluefeatherbooks.com
ISBN: 978-0-9794120-3-5
First edition: July, 2008
Printed in the United States of America and in the United Kingdom.
Acknowledgements
So many people… So many strong, beautiful women contributed to making this work the best it could be. To my beta readers: Barbara, Bliss, Mom, Cindy, Pat, Carol, and Brenda, you ladies rock! Thank you so much for your diligence in reading, commenting and correcting my errors. Your unique views and perspectives added great depth and validation to the story. Barbara, you are an awesome editor and a fantastic taskmaster! To Sher, for verifying and scrubbing (pun intended) the medical situations and terminology—I love you, Big Guy. A special thanks to Joan for tying to make the editing process as painless as possible, and to Andi for your awesome comments and suggestions. To B for putting up with my foul temper during the edits, and loving me anyway—ILYWAMH! To my sons, Heath and Dane and their lovely ladies Kacie and Daisy for believing Mom can do anything… and expecting nothing less. To my babies Ky and Ari for reflecting in your eyes the belief that Nona is the coolest grandmother on earth. You keep me young. Many thanks to my entire family for looking beyond what I am, and for unconditionally loving me for who I am. Finally, to all of my friends who love me regardless of the fact they think I’m whacked. I love you guys!
Prologue
“911—What is your emergency?”
“Please! Send an ambulance! My daughter’s been injured!” The woman’s voice was almost indiscernible as she sobbed hysterically.
“Let me confirm your address, ma’am. Are you at 1029 Pheasant Hill Road, Shelburne, Vermont?”
“Yes, please hurry!”
“Help is on the way, ma’am. Please tell me the nature of your daughter’s injury so it can be relayed to the emergency response team currently en route to your home.”
“I… I don’t know. We found her lying in the north pasture. It looks like she was thrown by her horse. So much blood! We don’t dare to move her. Please… please hurry!” The woman gasped for air as she choked on her own tears.
“Calm down, ma’am. We’ll be there as soon as we can. A unit has already been dispatched. Could I have your name, please?”
“Kathleen Lewis.”
“And your daughter’s name?”
“Jordan Marie Lewis.”
“How old is Jordan?”
Kathleen began to sob once more. “She’s sixteen. She’s just a baby. Oh, God—please let her be all right!”
“Is Jordan conscious?”
“She’s been drifting in and out.”
“Help is on the way, Mrs. Lewis. I will stay on the line with you until the ambulance arrives.”
* * *
Raymond and Kathleen Lewis clung to each other in the waiting area of the emergency room at the Fletcher Allen Medical Center. After four hours of waiting, Raymond intercepted the next person who exited from the trauma unit.
“Excuse me, but you have our daughter in there. Is there anyone who can tell us what’s going on?”
The resident frowned at Raymond, and then looked at the clipboard he was holding in his hands. “Is your daughter’s name Jordan Lewis?” he asked.
Kathleen rose from her seat and approached from across the room. “Yes. Yes, Jordan is our daughter. Please, how is she?” Kathleen wrung her tear-dampened handkerchief between her hands.
The resident looked around the room, nervously avoiding the gaze of the concerned parents. “Ah… why don’t you have a seat,” he suggested. “I’ll let the attending physician know you’re waiting.” A moment later, he was gone.
After what seemed like an eternity, the attending physician emerged from the emergency room and approached them. “Mr. and Mrs. Lewis?” He extended his hand. “My name is Dr. Lindale. I’ve been treating Jordan since she was brought in.”
Kathleen grasped Dr. Lindale’s arm. “How is she? Please tell me she’s all right.”
Dr. Lindale cleared his throat. “Maybe we should step into a consultation room. Please, have a seat,” he urged.
When the Lewises were seated, Dr. Lindale positioned himself in the chair opposite them and began paging through Jordan’s chart. It was obvious that he was stalling for time.
Unable to contain his frustration any longer, Raymond spoke. “Look, Dr. Lindale. You’ve had our daughter in that room for over four hours. We want to know how she is, and we want to know now.”
Dr. Lindale glanced at the Lewises, then closed Jordan’s file. Finally, he spoke. “Jordan’s injuries are more extensive than we thought. “I wish I had better news for you, but I’m sorry to say that Jordan has a complete spinal cord injury at the L1 vertebra.”
“What exactly does that mean?” Raymond asked.
Dr. Lindale sighed deeply then looked at the Lewises once again. “It means that Jordan is paralyzed from the waist down.”
A high-pitched wail erupted from Kathleen’s throat.
“She will heal from this, won’t she? She’ll be okay, right, Dr. Lindale?”
“Jordan will survive, but I’m afraid she will never walk again.”
Chapter 1
Dr. Jordan Lewis reached into her pocket for a remote control as she walked across her office. She tucked her shoulder-length brown hair behind her ear and pointed the remote at the computer on the desk. Her three-dimensional holographic image appeared over the projection plate in the desk. Her students across the world would see her this way, while lecture notes appeared on the screen. Her hips swayed as she paced back and forth across the room.
“Welcome back from the break. Now, let’s resume our lecture. As first-year medical students, I am sure you all realize that what you see here is a healthy spinal cord. When functioning properly, it coordinates all movement and sensation in the body. Considered an organ, it is a type of switchboard between the brain and the body.” Jordan stopped and acknowledged an inquiry from one of the students in her multinational audience. An instant interpreter relayed the student’s question to Jordan in English.
“Dr. Lewis, why is it that spinal cord injuries cause varying degrees of immobility in the patient? I mean, disability can range anywhere from lack of coordination to total paralysis.”
Jordan crossed her arms in front of her chest. “That is a very good question. Actually, the answer is quite simple.” Jordan advanced the hologram to display a three-dimensional figure of a human being with the central nervous system highlighted. “Keep in mind that each part of the spinal column is responsible for a different neurological area of the body. The type of
disability resulting from a spinal cord injury greatly depends on where the injury is, the severity of the injury, and how much damage is caused to the nerve fiber pathways.”
Another student asked a question. “Dr. Lewis, an injury to the spinal cord seems only to affect the area of the body below the injury. Why is that?”
Jordan walked once more across the room. “Well, imagine the spinal cord as a sheathed wire and the brain as a battery. An electrical system depends on a closed loop to work properly. As long as the wires remain intact, all functions between the brain and foot will react to commands given by the brain in the form of electrical impulses. If you cut the wire, say, just above the lower back, the neck, shoulder and arm will continue to receive the impulse, but the hip, knee and ankle will not. By cutting the wire, you no longer have a closed loop to the foot. Mobility ends at the point where the wire was cut. Does that make more sense?”
Jordan scanned her monitor for negative responses from her students. When she received none, she moved on. “Now, let’s discuss varying degrees of injury. Injuries to the spinal cord are categorized as either complete or incomplete. A complete SCI results in a total loss of function and sensation below the affected vertebra, and an incomplete SCI means only partial loss of function or sensation. Loss of function depends on the level of damage to the neural pathways between the body and the brain.”
Another student submitted an electronic inquiry. “Dr. Lewis, does it matter how soon a spinal cord injury is treated? I mean, are the chances of recovery better if the injury is treated immediately?”
“Yes and no,” Jordan responded quickly. “Complete SCIs rarely heal to the point where mobility returns; however, for incomplete injuries with a lower level of severity, the speed at which the injury is treated absolutely plays a factor in the degree of recovery. Speed is an important factor in minimizing neuron death. It makes sense that the lower the rate of neuron death, the greater the chances of reestablishing sensory channels.”
Jordan scanned the monitor for more inquires. “Are there any more questions?”
A student beeped in. “Dr. Lewis, is there any hope for victims of severe trauma, for example, complete severance of the spinal cord?”
Jordan listened intently as the student spoke, allowing for an intentional pause as she considered the student’s question. The students watched her holographic image as she walked from one end of her office to the other and then back again. Finally, she stopped and looked at her watch. “We only have a minute or two left in this session, so let me try to answer your question in the time we have.” Jordan spread her hands and inhaled deeply. “Yes, there is hope. I stand before you—a paraplegic.”
A barrage of inquires flooded the control panel of Jordan’s monitor just as the two-minute warning appeared at the bottom of the screen.
Jordan grimaced as she realized they were out of time. “I’m afraid class is over. Perhaps we can resume this discussion at the beginning of tomorrow’s session?”
As soon as her class had ended, Jordan powered down her computer and headed home. Her announcement had caused such a stir among the students that several of them sent urgent emails begging her to continue the dialogue. Fortunately for Jordan, she was able to put off responding to the inquiries simply by turning off her computer. Normally, she would feel guilty for dismissing students that way; however, she did promise to review her case in detail in the next session.
She pulled into the driveway of her home and dragged her weary body into the house.
Jordan’s roommate, Kale Simmons, was stretched out on the couch watching a three-dimensional football game on the holographic projector. Jordan dropped her briefcase on the floor, then collapsed next to her friend and snuggled into his shoulder. “Damn, it’s cold out there. It’s hard to believe spring is just a month away.”
Kale turned his head and kissed Jordan’s forehead. “Rough day?”
“Long day. After spending the entire morning working on the new implant, I covered spinal cord injuries in my kinesiology class.”
Kale glanced at her before looking back at the ball game. “Don’t tell me. They found out about your injury.”
Jordan grimaced. “I kind of told them about it with only two minutes left before the end of class.”
Kale looked at her. “You’re kidding, right? Damn, woman. They must have mobbed you after class.”
“Mobbed is an understatement. They filled my inbox in a matter of seconds.” Jordan dropped her face into her hands. “You’d think I’d have learned by now not to divulge that particular piece of information without adequate time to discuss it.”
Kale rubbed Jordan’s back. “You can’t blame them, you know. If I were a rookie in that class, I would have followed you home and forced you to tell me the details.”
Jordan smiled. “Pray tell, just what do you mean by force?”
Kale grabbed Jordan by the waist and pulled her onto his lap so that she rested across his legs with her head on his shoulder. He ran his free hand across her cheek. “First, I would turn on my irresistible charm.”
Jordan chuckled. “It wouldn’t work, and you know it.”
Kale grinned. “Well, then I’d resort to bribing you.”
Jordan’s eyebrows arched. “What makes you think you have anything to bribe me with? If I didn’t feel for your sorry ass, you’d be living on the street.”
Kale clutched at his heart. “Ouch. That hurt.”
Jordan punched him lightly in the chest. “You know I’m just kidding. I kind of like having you here.”
Kale grabbed Jordan’s chin. “What you like is my cooking.”
Jordan patted her stomach. “Now that you mention it,” she teased.
“Why, you little imp.” Kale began to tickle her.
Jordan squirmed with all her might, trying to escape the attack. “Okay! I give. You win.”
Jordan settled back into his embrace. Once again, Kale trailed his fingertips across her cheek. “Now, if I could only get you to fall for me, I’d be all set.”
Jordan reached up and cupped Kale’s face between her hands. “Sweetheart, I love you dearly, but we’ve had this discussion before. You are just not what I need in my life.”
Kale smiled. “Not even for my spinach soufflé?”
“Kale,” Jordan warned.
“I know, I know. You can’t fault a guy for trying. So, ask me about my day.”
“Okay. How was your day?”
“Wonderful. We had a breakthrough.”
Jordan climbed off Kale’s lap and sat on the coffee table in front of him. “Are you serious? Tell me about it.”
“We finally have proof that electrical impulses can actually stimulate cell growth in the spinal columns of rats.”
Jordan placed her hand on Kale’s knee. “That’s wonderful news,” she said excitedly. “Are you sure? Are the results conclusive? Are you ready to test it on human subjects?”
“Whoa, slow down, partner. What we know is that by using a continuous wave electrical impulse in the area of the injury, we were able to simultaneously activate thousands of genes. The first genes to activate were those that promote cell growth, similar to the type that repair skin wounds in humans.”
Jordan began to speak but Kale interrupted her. “Before you say anything, you have to realize our testing is just in the preliminary stages. It may take years before we know if we can repair a complete spinal cord injury. The results are encouraging, but they’re preliminary.”
Jordan’s shoulders slumped, but to lighten the mood, she forced a smile. “I know, I know. I’m a scientist, too. I know how long the research and development period can be. It’s just that I’ve been living with this for sixteen years, and it wears thin after a while.”
Kale sat up straight. “What? Sixteen years? Wow. You’re getting old, my friend.”
Jordan slugged him in the shoulder. “I’m only thirty-two. You talk like I’m ninety-eight.”
“And what a beautiful thirty-two
you are. Are you sure I can’t convert you to men?”
Jordan laughed. “Not a chance, Kale. Not a chance.”
“What if I grew my hair really long and wore falsies?” he teased.
Jordan pretended to consider it, but then shook her head. “If you would consider changing your equipment, I might think about it.”
Kale crossed his legs. “I don’t think so.”
Jordan grinned. “Then, I guess you’re out of luck.”
Kale opened his arms. “Oh, well. Come here and watch the game with me.”
Jordan allowed herself to be wrapped in Kale’s arms as they lay entwined together on the couch. Soon, Jordan had fallen asleep. Kale worked his arms under her knees and then carried her to her bedroom, placing her gently on the bed. He rolled Jordan onto her side and lifted her shirttail, exposing her back. He paused for a moment, tracing the long scar that ran nearly the entire length of her spine. Kale reached inside her trousers and pulled out a small wire with a round access port on the end. He plugged this into the cord of a solar power receptacle. Then he pulled Jordan’s shirt back down.
Kale leaned in to kiss Jordan on the head. “Sleep well, honey.”
* * *
Jordan loved horses. Her favorite was a mustang, Sally, a gift from her parents. On this particular day, Jordan planned to take Sally on an all-day ride across the rolling hills of the family farm. After several sprints across the wide plains, Jordan carefully led Sally through the dense forest. The light was fading; Jordan had gotten a late start, and she’d ridden for a long time. She was careful to steer Sally away from fallen tree branches. Within moments, they had cleared the forest and emerged at the edge of the open pasture between the trees and Jordan’s home.
A broad smile spread across Jordan’s face. She leaned down and rubbed the horse’s neck. “Okay, girl, are you ready?” She jabbed her heels into the horse’s side.