Chapter Five
They laid out the schedule for the next few days. Which included blood tests, brain scans, meetings with a handful of therapists, a nutritionist, and setting a plan for recovery. All of that sounded smart to Tommy, but the sparkles around his vision got bad and he bowed over the chair, gripping Paige’s hand. He didn’t want everyone to leave, but the pain in his skull was beginning to turn his stomach over. Too much light and noise.
“Headache, sorry,” Tommy muttered, eyes squeezed shut.
His mom rubbed his back and he heard the doctor say something, but didn’t look up. A minute later he got a hug from his mom. “I’ll be back in a few days,” she promised him. “Let’s get you back to your room.”
Paige guided the chair out of the office and back toward his room as they walked beside it with Derek. Tommy only partially listened to them talk about schedules. His head throbbed. Once at his door, Paige squeezed his shoulder. “You got this, Tommy.”
He wasn’t as certain. But she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, leaving him with the delicate scent of marshmallows. “Get some rest.”
“Sorry,” he said again, apologizing for everything. The headache, being here, his stupidity, everything. Tears prickled his eyes, pain too intense. He hoped she came back. He could use more friends right now.
Derek took over, guiding the chair into the room. He helped Tommy change into pajamas and closed the drapes on all the windows. “You’ll need to eat,” Derek added. “Lay here a bit and rest.”
Tommy didn’t have to be told twice. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe through the pain. No drugs meant no painkillers, right? He tried not to let his anxiety wallop him over that. It was a fight. His mind screaming that if he didn’t take something he’d suffer this pain forever. But lying down in the dark helped. The throbbing dulled and the counting breaths he’d been using didn’t seem to make anything worse.
Derek did not force him to go to dinner, instead bringing him a protein shake. “It’s got the vitamins you need, and might help you sleep some,” the nurse said as he coaxed Tommy into a sitting position. “But everything in here is mild, nothing acidic, and should be gentle on your stomach. No spinach or anything weird like kale.” There was a touch of humor in his voice, “For now at least.”
Tommy eyed the shake. It looked like a chocolate milk shake. Didn’t smell like anything. He took a careful sip. Tasted like chocolate, though a bit chalky.
He made a face. “It’s not terrible, I guess.” He hoped his stomach didn’t rebel.
“It’s got some probiotics in it, and vitamins and minerals you need. Part of healing your brain is healing your gut as well. There are a lot of new studies that indicate our mental health is actually created in our gut. Microbiomes and all that.”
“Sounds like something my friend Adam would like,” Tommy said as he sipped on the shake. “It’s not bad, a little chalky. Like I can taste there’s stuff in it, but not what it is.”
“You’ll have a lot of these in the beginning. Soft foods help the transition. Soups, shakes, then we’ll work you up to fancy things like caviar.”
“Caviar is gross,” Tommy said. “Midwestern boy to the core, even if I had a few years of fame. I’d rather have pizza than fish eggs.” He wondered if it were all over now, but couldn’t bring himself to look at the keyboard or guitar in the corner. He finished up the shake and handed over the empty cup.
Derek unwrapped something that looked like a miniature bra. He held it out. “It’s an eye mask. No pressure on the eyes. Should help ease the headache a bit.”
Tommy took the mask and looked at it. The strap thick, but Velcro. Not long enough to tie. It was purple on the outside, black on the inside and soft to the touch. The bubbles of space that fit over his eyes were the part that looked like a bra.
“Let me show you some pressure points to help your nervous system relax,” Derek added. He held up his hand and pointed to the center of his palm and the line where it connected to his wrist. “This area is a pressure point. Some people trap them under themselves.” He demonstrated holding his hands behind his butt, palms down. “Think of it as a relaxation point. Pressure here helps relax the parasympathetic nervous system.”
He smiled at Tommy’s expression. “That’s the thing you have that has gone haywire. Hyperdrive to hyper sleep in half a second. Recovery from benzos really increases anxiety, which is what they are often prescribed to treat. A paradoxical effect. Your nerves coming back online means too much activity and learning to calm it. The parasympathetic nervous system is what controls that.”
Tommy mouthed the word parasympathetic. It sounded weird. But he put the mask on and laid down, adjusting the pillow beneath his neck until he was comfortable on his back. Then he put his palms open, flat against the bed and slid them under his butt so his weight held them down. It was a tiny bit of pressure, and took him a minute of fine-tuning to get comfortable again.
He couldn’t see anything, but felt Derek hovering nearby. “Is this right?”
“Yes,” Derek agreed. He pulled the blanket up to Tommy’s chin. “Rest. I’m going to start a short audio that will help you relax.” He fiddled with something and a moment later a chime rang. “Too loud?”
Tommy shook his head. It was faint, but he could make out a female voice. He had to work to understand her for a minute, and that was okay. He felt Derek pat his shoulder and then heard the man leave, closing the door behind him. Tommy should have panicked, but his head hurt and he was trying to hear the voiced instructions which talked about something called a ‘body scan’?
He listened for a while, and didn’t realize he’d actually fallen asleep until he woke up, startled by a panic attack, jumped out of bed and ripped off the mask thinking, he didn’t know what, only that he was on the verge of something terrible. But there was nothing. A digital clock with a pale blue glow stated it was four in the morning.
Tommy sat down on the bed a little shocked. He’d slept almost ten hours. Was that possible? Had they put something in his shake? He couldn’t recall the last time he’d slept that much. A year or more ago?
Did he feel rested? What had the doctor said? That his brain needed sleep to repair itself? His heart still pounded a little. He was shaky, but made his way to the bathroom, careful to grip the counters in case his leg gave out.
After a few minutes he finished and thought maybe he could lie down and try to sleep again? It was early. He knew from the white board beside the door inside his room, that his first appointment wasn’t until nine.
He picked up the mask, and tried to get the little remote box beside his bed to play the scan thing again. He couldn’t figure it out, but he lay down with the mask and pressure points again, trying to focus on his breathing.
No go. The panic came in waves. Falling for a few minutes and letting him almost get to sleep again, and then rising like a killer surge of anxiety to slap him back to consciousness. He sat up, took the mask off, and hit the call button. Maybe he’d go to that relaxation room or something? All Tommy knew in that moment was he needed to get out of his room for a minute. To do something to keep the panic from overwhelming him.
