‘No, well, neither did we, but we’ve plenty of support. The hospital have been brilliant and there’s the Child Brain Injury Trust on hand for all the questions we have, and there’s a wee support group I’ve been going to once a week. This woman, Patricia, runs it and she’s just fantastic. Sometimes you think you’re so alone in this, but fortunately – andunfortunately – we’re not.’
Mr McCoy came in with the drinks on a tray.
‘When’s the last time we sat in here and just had a drink?’ he said.
‘I know,’ said Mrs McCoy, ‘but it’s hard to switch off, it’s the lack of sleep. Ronan hasn’t got into a pattern yet, so of course ifhe’snot sleeping thenwe’renot sleeping.’
‘And it’s been worse with the Christmas holidays,’ said Mr McCoy. ‘Routine is key for Ronan, getting that consistency. So it’s all scheduled; visits from nurses, physio, et cetera, all at the same times every week, consistent! Then there’s wee programmes on TV Ronan watches at the same time every day and that’s been consistent too. But then Christmas holidays come; the TV scheduling changes, nurses are on holiday. Then the workmen with their random working hours. Anyway, I could go on about it all but I won’t.’
‘Jeepers, Aaron, you don’t need to be bogging them down with all our woes,’ said Mrs McCoy.
‘No, it’s all the things you don’t think about,’ Dad said. ‘Isn’t that right, Brendan?’
‘Exactly,’ I said. ‘I hadn’t thought about all that.’
I wasn’t very good at talking in a room with mostly adults.
‘It’s like you have to learn to be parents all over again,’ I said.
Mr and Mrs McCoy looked at me and smiled.
‘That’s exactly right, Brendan,’ said Mrs McCoy, ‘that’s just exactly it.’
‘And then on top of that,’ said Mr McCoy, ‘Emma’s become a bit of an expert in brain science.’
‘Augh, now.’ She nudged him.
‘No, you have, it’s impressive, the stuff she knows! She’s got a filing cabinet in the bedroom packed with printouts and research and all Ronan’s documents.’
‘Well, you just have to educate yourself. You have all these doctors talking all this brain stuff at you and we don’t have a clue. Even just understanding why his speech is so affected, for a start – which, by the way, he may actually be able to get back again.’
I sat up at this.
‘He’ll be able to talk again?’ I asked.
‘Well, the part of his brain that deals with speech is damaged but it may only be temporary. He knows what he wants to say and what we’re saying, it’s just the motor signals aren’t going to his mouth at this stage, but we’re hoping he’ll get there.’
My heart began to beat with excitement; my mission to hear Ronan tell me what really happened that day seemed more possible than ever. I looked at him and smiled, but his eyes were beginning to droop and his head was nodding forward.
‘Don’t take that personally, Brendan,’ said Mr McCoy, ‘the fatigue hits him like that very regular.’
‘Probably from all the laughter,’ I said.
‘Not a bad thing to be fatigued by. I could do with a bit of laughter-fatigue myself amidst all this flippin’ legal stuff on top of everything and—’
‘No, don’t get into that,’ interrupted Mrs McCoy, smiling, ‘we’ll be fatiguing them in a minute from not being able to get a word in edgewise!’
‘Sorry,’ said Mr McCoy, ‘aye, no, I think we’re just beginning to realise we haven’t spoken to any normal human beings for a while!’
‘I know,’ said Mrs McCoy, ‘it’s been all doctors, nurses, physios. So having you here is a breath of fresh air. And my parents are coming tomorrow for Christmas dinner, that’ll be their first time in the house since …’ She stopped. Mr McCoy put his arm around her. ‘Sorry, sometimes it just sneaks up on you.’ She cleared her throat and took a gulp of tea. I took a drink too for something to do and saw Ronan was fast asleep with his chin on his chest.
‘He’s out for the count,’ I said.
‘Aye, that’s him off to the land of nod now, I’m afraid, maybe I should … should I?’ said Mr McCoy.
‘Aye maybe, maybe it would be good to, but it’s a bit early; no, maybe not,’ said Mrs McCoy.
‘Aye, no, maybe you’re right.’ They looked at Dad and me and laughed.
