Page 84 of After We Fall

Luke doesn’t add anything to the conversation. He appears to be intently listening, but something else is in the set lines of his face.

I sigh. “But I saw her entranced with a female drummer at the Christmas tree lighting, and Luke bought her a drum set, and now she comes alive at the mention of her lessons. She doesn’t have anything except those drums. And lately, she’s been speaking in more coherent sentences, trusting us with more words.” I point to the doctor. “It’s beautiful. And I wasn’t going to interrupt her lesson simply because I could hear the drums through the walls.”

“That’s thoughtful of you.” The doctor scratches his cheek. “And what about the pain you were in?”

“I was handling it.”

“Did you take any medication for it?”

“No. I thought it would go away.”

“Did you feel the pain as it became worse? Were you conscious of its escalation?”

“I don’t know. I just concluded I would tough it out until it was over.” I shrug. “Then I was at a seven.”

“And in a pain crisis.”

“Like the wedding,” Luke murmurs.

I turn my head to him. “What?”

“You crashed with a migraine the day after Harlan and Meredith’s wedding. Did you push through that day too, knowing you would handle it later?”

Did I? The day of the wedding flashes through my mind, but it’s hard to remember and quantify the events. I glance at the IV pouring into my body, washing away the pain of today with each drop of medication.

Dr. Ridding makes a few notes on a piece of paper. “Today, we’ll get this pain under control. No neurofeedback treatment.”

I sit up straight. “No treatment?” If we skip today, it just delays my getting back to normal. My life. My job.

“I’m not going to push your brain today with a neurofeedback session. But I can do a neurofield anti-inflammatory treatment if you would like. That will reinforce what the medication is doing.”

Slumping back in my chair like I’m a three-year-old, I nod. “Fine.”

“In the meantime, I need you to really work on those numbers. You’re so accustomed to the pain, you don’t recognize what’s happening. In some ways, doing life like this has worked for you.” He offers a sad smile. “But your recent concussion isn’t going to let you live that way anymore.”

I swallow and whisper, “I wouldn’t know the first thing about how to do my life differently.”

Dr. Ridding nods. “I believe you. We’re going to work on that.” He points to me with his pen. “I don’t know how you started the day, but at some point, your pain registered at a four. There’s appropriate medication you can take for a pain level of four. At another point your pain registered at a six. There’s appropriate medication you can take for a six. I need you to pay attention to how you’re doing at different points in the process. Before the headache becomes a pain crisis.”

Luke grunts. “And I think everyone around you would agree that if they can do something to reduce headache triggers, they would gladly oblige.”

I pick at a stray thread on my sling.

“From here on out,” Dr. Ridding continues, “don’t just limit the numbers to pain. Quantify anything you can. Emotions, social situations, the kind of sleep you get at night. Someone makes a dinner you love? What’s that number? You get your arm out of the sling and try to open a heavy door? What’s that number? A friend says something that makes you angry? What’s that number? Quantify anything that you can feel. Both the positive and the negative.”

“That’s an overwhelming amount of information,” I say. “I’m supposed to keep track of all this?”

“Not on paper. I just want you to put a category in your head for how things feel. Good and bad. Sounds, lights, even emotions are going to be triggers for headaches for a while. Post-concussion recovery is different for everyone, but these are the things we need to pay attention to.”

“What a terrible thing to have to do,” I say, my words slurring just the slightest.

Dr. Ridding grins at Luke. “I think our girl’s feeling the medication.”

The drugs are now doing their job well, beating back any twinges of pain.

My eyes droop.

“Rest, Miss Reid. We’ll check on you here in a little bit.”