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Only she remembered what happened on her wedding day. Not her husband, or in-laws. Not the pals and gals from her hubbie’s AA fellowship that filled up 90% of the spots on the guestlist. Yes, it was an alcohol free reception, so it’s even more puzzling why no one was able to piece together what led to the eventual mayhem. Mayhem that landed her in hospital begrudgingly, unable to ascertain time and place, unable to move her head and limbs, her mind falling in and out of consciousness, her senses dulled by the cold IV medication that freezes her veins, her body unable to warm up the injected liquids. She thinks but doesn’t dream, her thoughts are racing but she doesn’t wake. When she is awake, she doesn’t see. Against an infinite backdrop of darkness, subtitles appear, most out of focus, a few mattered:&nbsp;“Did I relapse and put myself here?”“Are there painkillers or sedatives in my blood right now? Do I have to reset my day count? Can I get a waiver?”“Is my Higher Power coming to collect me?”“Why has no one come to hold my hand?” As the medication completes its circuit round her vascular system, her vision comes into focus, she stares at a ceiling, a square of pearl paint. Scenes from a wedding play out against this new backdrop, but it doesn’t feel familiar, there is clapping, dancing, blank faces speaking and singing in a language that she doesn’t understand. Then the scenes became a splatter of multicoloured pixels, then the pixels cluster together and shrink and shrink and shrink, until the infinite backdrop of darkness returns. A voice shatters this frame of black pixels, and a foreign bearded face with a geometric cap appears, the sound of an electronic beep focuses her attention.&nbsp; “Hello, this is Constable Finlay from the Scottish Police. Are you able to speak?”&nbsp;“Yes.” She answered with a voice she didn't recognize.&nbsp;“I am now conducting an interview with… Can you state your name please?”Letters float into view, one by one, without order, and not before long, her vision becomes populated by this imposing letter salad, falling closer and closer to her eyes, the sharp corners and points start pricking the cornea and the pain becomes unbearable. With great strength she blinked, and all the letters were gone, except for four, ‘A’, ‘C’, ‘N’, ‘H’. “Acnh, Hnca, Nach, no, Chan.”“Yes, is there a first name?” She blinked again. “Waspror, Ropawrs… Sparrow.”“Sparrow, like the bird?”“No, like the pirate.”“Okay, so, Sparrow Chan?”“Something is missing… wait.” Another blink. “D, I, A.”“Dia Sparrow Chan?”“Something is still missing.”“Claudia? Nadia? Lydia?”“Yes, that’s it!”“So, Lydia Sparrow Chan, that’s who I’m speaking to? Can you confirm for me?”This name triggered a paralyzing migraine.“Wrong!” She tries to make the migraine go away.“Oh?” He flips through his notepad. “Sorry, my mistake, it should be Lydia Chan Sparrow, can you confirm this is your name for me please?”&nbsp;A flock of sparrows flew in through the window and started pecking at her head.“No!!! Make the sparrows stop!”“What?”“I am just Lydia Chan!”“But I just pulled the name from the wedding registry this morning.”“I’m married?”“Yes, apparently.”The migraine splits into two hands and squeezes the gray matter.&nbsp;&nbsp;“I don’t remember it. I cannot remember it!”“This is on record, are you trying to make my job difficult?!”“Why are you angry? Who are you? Where am I? Why are your hands crushing my head?” She fights back. A redhead nurse rushes into view and utters something to the policeman, but before she can process what is said, Lydia’s brain shuts down from another injection of cold medication.&nbsp; “You have to be patient, sir, you’ve seen what she survived, some post trauma brain dysfunction is par for the course.” Explains the nurse.&nbsp;“But I really need a statement from her so the investigation can move forward.” Const. Finlay explained after a sigh.“Can’t you just step back from your law enforcement duties and just be a sympathetic human? Look at her, hasn’t she suffered enough? Can’t you just check like, I don’t know, door cams or CCTVs and not compound her suffering?”“I am just following orders and assisting the investigators, I didn’t mean to cause any harm. So, what happens now with her state of mind?”“Well, with this kind of head injury, she’ll probably be going through cognitive dissonance and temporary memory loss. If you push her too much and overwork her damaged brain, you’ll risk triggering a psychotic breakdown and permanent loss of memories.”&nbsp;“Is there a timeline? What do you suggest?”&nbsp;“It’s hard to say, come back another time and don’t be so specific in your questioning, try more open ended sentences and let her speak whatever she can think of. Maybe you’ll be able to slowly guide her to remembering events leading up to the date of the incident, if you can be more tactful.”“Okay. How do you usually handle previous patients with similar symptoms?”“I’ll pretend that they are 5 years old, and think of how I would speak to a 5 year old kid who doesn’t understand most words and concepts of how the world works.”“Oh… I don’t have kids so I don’t know…”“How about any elderly members of your family with dementia? Do you have experience talking to them?”“Yeah… Now I know what to say.”“Nothing you can do today, but maybe when you come back another time, lose the uniform, it’ll be more relaxing for her.”“This I can do as well. Thank you for your advice.” So at this point, not even the bride remembered what happened on her wedding day. Yet.

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Mrs. Misunderstood

missypfeathers

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Missy P Feathers

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