Karen D. Badger - Yesterday Once More (3 page)

Jordan was pouring a thermal decanter of coffee to take with her to class when Kale emerged from his bedroom, ready for work. Jordan took one look at him and laughed. Kale Simmons was good-looking. Roughly the same age as Jordan, he was just under six feet tall, thin, with boyishly handsome features.

“Kale, don’t you ever comb your hair? You look like a mad scientist.”

Kale stopped and ran his hand through his unruly blond mop. “What’s wrong with my hair?”

Jordan sipped her coffee. “It’s sticking up in a zillion different directions. It looks like you went to bed with it wet.”

“As a matter of fact, I did. You know how I like to shower in the evening. It gives me more time to sleep in.”

“I just think you’re lazy and can’t get your butt out of bed in the morning.” 

“I plead the fifth.” Kale batted his eyelashes. “Pour me a cup of java, would you?”

Jordan reached for the carafe and a clean cup. “You’re lucky you’re so cute. Otherwise, I’d have to beat your ass.”

Kale grinned. “Now there’s one beating I’d gladly endure.”

Jordan shook her head. “You are impossible.”

“No, ma’am, I’m pretty easy. Show me even the slightest interest, and I’ll jump your bones in an instant.”

“Argh.” Jordan advanced on Kale, who jumped to the other side of the kitchen table. Jordan chased him around twice with no luck. Finally, she gave up and grabbed her briefcase.

“Okay, imp-boy, I’ve got a class to teach. Will I see you at the lab later?”

“Count on it. Oh—we need to talk to Peter today about your malfunctions. Don’t forget to remind me.”

* * *

As part of her research grant, Jordan taught a class in kinesiology at the University of Vermont Medical School. The class met on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at 3:00 p.m., and at 8:00 a.m. on Tuesday and Thursday. The 8:00 a.m. classes invariably suffered from poor attendance. However, after Jordan’s stunning announcement, word spread quickly, and this morning’s class was full.

Jordan said, “It’s nice to see such wonderful attendance this morning.” She paused at the chuckles and murmurs. “So, where did we leave off yesterday? Oh, yes. We were talking about restored mobility for patients with a severe spinal cord injury.”

Jordan leaned against the desk. “I mentioned yesterday that I am a paraplegic, yet here I am, walking as if I had a fully intact spinal cord. I don’t. For fourteen years, I was confined to a hover-chair. My legs were totally useless.”

Jordan called on a student, who asked, “I assume your injury was not catastrophic then?”

Jordan grimaced. “No, it was catastrophic. My spine was completely severed at the L1 segment. In other words, total and permanent paralysis from the waist down.”

Several students began to ask questions at once.

“Whoa, slow down. One at a time,” Jordan said.

“How did it happen?”

Jordan took a deep breath and related the details of her accident. “I was sixteen. I had taken my horse out for a run on our family farm. It was nearly dark when we started for home. We were running at full gallop when my horse stepped onto an old dried well, covered with a piece of rotting plywood. My horse’s front legs went into the well, and I was thrown several feet. The impact severed my spine. My horse, unfortunately, did not survive the fall.”

After several long seconds, another student chimed in. “Dr. Lewis, how are you able to stand and walk? Did your spinal column regenerate? I thought that was impossible.”

Jordan stopped pacing. “I wouldn’t say it was impossible. I would say that we are still learning how the body works, and we’re moving closer every day to understanding how to force regeneration of the spinal cord. Two years ago, I volunteered for trials aimed at restoring mobility. My implant allows me to walk, but it doesn’t repair the injury. The work I’ve been involved in restores mobility by artificially inserting functional connections at the injury site. It’s not a permanent fix, and heaven forbid your power supply should run out while you’re on the dance floor!”

Jordan waited for the laughter to subside. “I have a surgically-implanted device that emits electrical impulses into the severed region of my spinal column. Fortunately for me, my parents insisted on a regular regime of physical therapy, which I objected to at the time but am now quite thankful for. That kept my muscles in good shape, allowing me to participate in mobility studies.”

“Did the surgery work right away?”

“It has taken the better part of those two years for me to relearn basic walking skills.”

“Dr. Lewis,” said another student, “it seems like a remarkable breakthrough.”

“We’ve come a very long way, but there is still a significant amount of work ahead of us. We need to perfect the implant. There are still moments when it misbehaves, but we have learned a great deal by carefully monitoring my progress.” Jordan paused. “Okay, we really do need to cover new material today, so I’m going to move on.”

By the end of class, Jordan was fighting a splitting headache. Kale found her sitting at her desk with her head in her hands. She looked up at him.

Kale knelt by Jordan’s side and rubbed her back. “Not feeling very well, huh?”

“My head is killing me. I haven’t had a headache this bad in almost two years.”

Kale frowned. “Have you taken anything for it yet?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Maybe you should go home. I’ll give you a ride, if you like.”

Jordan sat back in her chair and massaged her temples. “No, I have way too much work to do. My class is taking up so much of my time. I’m not contributing as much as I’d like to on the new implant. I’ll just take a cranium pressure stabilizer. I’ll be all right in a few minutes.”

Kale looked skeptical, but he said, “Let me get it for you. Don’t move, okay?”

Jordan dropped her head back into her hands. “I’ll be right here.”

Kale ran to the infirmary as fast as he could. When he stepped back into Jordan’s office, he found her lying on the floor. “Jordan!” Kale rushed to her side and carefully checked her pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found it to be strong and regular. 

Kale activated his communication device and notified security. “Hello? This is Kale Simmons in the lab. I have a medical emergency. Jordan Lewis’s office. Please, hurry. She’s unconscious.”

Kale heard sirens in the distance. Minutes later, Jordan was strapped to a stretcher and loaded into an ambulance. The EMT addressed Kale.

“Are you riding to the hospital with us? We’ll need someone to talk to Admitting.”

“Yes, I’ll go.” He climbed into the back of the ambulance and sat on a bench while the paramedics collected Jordan’s vitals and transmitted the information into the emergency room.

“Does she have any special needs, Mister…”

“Simmons, Kale Simmons. Special needs? She’s a paraplegic.”

The EMT looked surprised. “A paraplegic? Where’s her hover-chair?”

“It’s a long story,” Kale said wearily. “She has an experimental spinal implant. She’s had it for two years and... Oh, my God. I wonder...” He looked up at the EMT. “When we get to the hospital, we need to contact Dr. Peter Michaels right away. He’s the surgeon who placed the implant.”

* * *

Peter Michaels looked at Jordan’s holographs.

“Is she having any problems with the implant, Kale?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. Last night, it malfunctioned. She collapsed. Do you see something in these holographs that might indicate what caused it?”

Peter pointed to a shaded area. It was one of the many points where the electrodes were inserted into Jordan’s spine. “This area right here indicates an abnormality. Most likely swelling due to the malfunction.”

Both men were focused so intently on the holograph that they didn’t hear Jordan enter the room. “So, Doc, am I going to make it?”

Peter swung around. “Jordan, how are you feeling?”

“Better now, but still a bit headachy. So, let’s have it, Peter. What’s the verdict?”

Kale led Jordan to the table. He pulled out two chairs, forcing her to sit beside him. “Jordan,” he said, “can you tell us what happened? I went to get your meds. When I came back, you were on the floor, unconscious.”

“You found me on the floor?”

“You’re damn right I did. You scared the shit out of me.”

Jordan sat back. “I needed a drink of water. I remember standing up, and then... nothing. I woke up in the emergency room.”

She looked at Peter. “Tell me, what’s happening here?”

Peter walked over to the holograph and pointed to the abnormalities he had noted earlier. “Jordan, I think we need to take the implant out.”

Jordan jumped to her feet. “Oh, no you’re not! I am not going back to that hover-chair! I won’t, Peter. I can’t.”

“Jordan, I think you should do what Peter says. There’s no telling when the implant will stop functioning altogether. Hell, you could be driving when it happens. Listen to him,” Kale urged.

Jordan was furious. She leaned close to Kale’s face. “You don’t have to be confined to a goddamned chair for sixteen hours a day. You have no idea what it’s like!”

Peter watched the exchange, leaning against the table, his legs crossed at the ankles. He waited until Jordan had finished speaking. “I understand your reluctance, but there is another reason this may be necessary. You blacked out. That might be an indication that the implant is affecting your cerebral spinal fluid. The last thing you need is an infection that might result in a stroke and further paralysis in your upper body.”

Jordan knew he was right. As she absorbed this information, she wilted before their eyes.

* * *

Two days later, Jordan awoke in the hospital, lying face down in a suspension bed. As she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Kale sleeping on the floor beneath her bed. Tears filled her eyes and dropped directly onto his face.

Kale snapped awake. “Hey! Turn off the waterworks up there.”

Jordan smiled down at her friend. “I’m sorry. I can’t help it.”

Kale reached up and wiped the tears from her face. “How are you feeling, kiddo?”

Jordan searched her heart before answering. “Drained... scared... angry. I don’t know if I can live my life in a hover-chair. I just don’t know.”

Another tear fell, hitting Kale squarely on the forehead. “I’ll be right back,” Kale said. He rolled out from under the bed and popped into the bathroom. He returned with a handful of tissue.

As Kale swabbed her eyes, he told Jordan about a conversation he’d had with Peter Michaels. “Of course, we’ll need your approval before we can move ahead.”

Jordan frowned. “My approval?”

“Yeah. I... uh... I suggested we try the new implant on you.”

“The new implant isn’t ready yet.”

“It’s further along than you think. Don’t forget that while you’ve been playing teacher, I’ve been working my butt off on this thing. If I put in extra hours, I think it can be ready in about a month.” Kale studied Jordan’s face.

Jordan closed her eyes. “What if it doesn’t work? I don’t know if I can bear the disappointment of a second implant failing.” 

When she opened her eyes again, Kale was gone.

* * *

Two days later, Jordan was transferred to a standard hospital bed. She was lying there, absorbed in self-pity, when Peter Michaels paid her a visit.

“Okay, we’re going to test your reflexes. I don’t expect any reaction from the waist down. I’m more interested in the reflexes in your arms and neck.”

Jordan endured the tests and tried not to show her disappointment when there was no reaction in her lower extremities.

Peter looked at her. “I’m sure that Kale has discussed his plan for the new implant.”

Jordan turned her head to the side and closed her eyes.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Peter said. “What do you think?”

Jordan sighed. “I don’t know. I’m afraid to set myself up for more disappointment. What if it fails again in a year or two? I don’t know if I can deal with that.”

“That’s a valid concern. The decision is yours, but I hope you’ll consider it. Even if you decide to go ahead, neither you nor the implant will be ready for another month or two.”

Peter made several notes on Jordan’s chart before he addressed her again. “We should be able to release you this afternoon. You’ll need to come back in about a week for a follow-up. You need to pull yourself out of the funk you’ve been in these past few days. It may sound corny, but a positive outlook is part of the healing process. You, more than anyone, know life in a hover-chair is not a death sentence. You’re among the lucky ones.”

Jordan narrowed her eyes. “How can you possibly say I’m lucky?”

Peter leaned over her. “Because there’s a possibility that we can fix this. You have an entire team of research scientists willing to help you. Not everyone is that fortunate. Think about that, Jordan. Think about it long and hard.”

Jordan stared out her bedroom window at the light snowfall. She could summon neither the energy nor the desire to get up. In the two weeks since her surgery, she had shown little interest in rejoining the human race—a fact that she knew greatly worried Kale.