I can’t give you any odds at all. Every coma patient is different, every situation is unlike every other. But We’ll do what we can for both of you.”
“Thank you.” Bette walked into the room and tried to put her game face on. “Hi Mama Tee. Mama B and Angelica are here to see you.” Bette stood beside the bed and bent to kiss Tina’s cheek. She swallowed, suddenly at a loss for words and simply stared at her.
Bette wanted to believe that Tina heard her, that Tina could somehow hear all this love she felt for her and their family. She had been reading about comatose patients and every article said the same thing—the patient hears and it is imperative to stimulate those neurons. So Bette did it, despite her own emotional exhaustion. What emotions she could call up were sadness, loneliness, and an unconditional love for Tina and Angelica. She pushed down the negative and held one side of Tina’s face in her palm, “Hi, baby,” she voiced that unconditional love. Bette was gentle and all of the emotions that she had so easily thrust out into the world—anger, frustration, sarcasm, irritation, ridicule, had no place here.
“Bette, why don’t you look in the top drawer over there? If you could pick some materials--we’re going to use them to hopefully get a reaction from Tina. We’ll want to do many things to stimulate all of her senses. Our specialists and assistants will use different fabrics and textures against her skin—place them in her hand, rub them on her feet; we’ll bring in different sounds—recorded music, a xylophone, musicians, sound effects; Tina will smell fresh bread, garlic, chocolate. All of this might sound ridiculous at this point, but believe me, anything could trigger a reaction. So, look in the drawer, choose anything you’d like to start.”
Bette opened the top drawer and looked in. There were suede and velvet strips, rubber and leather patches, large marbles, a jelly-like squeeze toy, an eye dropper bottle containing water.
Dr. McPherson pushed the sheet up, exposing Tina’s feet and legs. Bette walked to the end of the bed, still holding their daughter. “What do I do?”
“Caress the arch of her foot with the strips, move up, rub it over her calves, change textures: watch for any movement.” Dr. McPherson stepped away, taking a seat across the room and giving the couple a small bit of privacy.
“Tee, do you feel this velvet? It’s so soft. Let me know if you feel me touching you with it.” Bette watched closely, praying that she’d see eye movement behind the closed lids or a wiggled toe or the flexing of a calf muscle, but there was nothing.
She picked up the rubber strip.
Deep in her unconscious mind, Tina and Bette were visiting a sex therapist. The therapist had just told them they needed to rekindle the spark in their long term relationship.
Tina found the sex therapist to be a joke. She wasn’t angry that Bette had insisted they see her, but she was annoyed. She didn’t need a sex therapist. She didn’t know what she needed, but it wasn’t that. She was exhausted. Taking care of Angelica took a lot of time. She was up all night holding and breastfeeding their child.
“When you do these exercises at home, Tina, she’ll be naked wearing a blindfold,” the doctor explained.
“Oh, no way. I’ll feel ridiculous. I don’t want anybody staring down at my naked body—tickling me with strips of rubber and suede.”
Bette was close to tears. She said sadly, “Tina, please… Tina, are you in there? It’s Bette.
