Brain Damage

by Freida McFadden

And none of that hurt. The truth is, I didn’t feel it at all. What hurt is everything that came after.

A fungal infection. Which Mr. Leroy’s primary care doctor should have diagnosed himself. What a waste of my time. And dignity.

Or in this case, the most perfect body I’ve ever seen. In my life. Clark Douglas is gorgeous.

“Didn’t Jessica give you a gown?” I ask him. I know very well she did.

Why does talking to your parents always make you regress to your teenage years?

The truth is, I haven’t met a guy yet whose company I enjoyed better than the peace of my own home. Why wreck something that’s already perfect?

Real

“Are you ready to try eating something today, Charlotte?” she asks.

Written in big letters is the word Amy. The girl’s name must be Amy.

The question was asked by a pretty girl with her blond hair in a ponytail. She looks a little bit familiar. I look at her name tag and read her name. Amy. I’m sure I’ve seen her before.

She’s so young… and she used to be a doctor.”

I read the name off of the blond girl’s name tag: Amy. She looks sort of familiar to me. I think I met her before. Her hand feels very soft, like a baby.

“Injuries to the right side of the brain can sometimes cause a neglect of the left side,” Amy explains. “Basically, she has trouble paying attention and noticing stimuli on her left side.”

“You haven’t seen her in over a week. I don’t care how busy you are with work—she’s your wife.”

“Also,” the man adds, “there’s the matter of the rather large life insurance policy that Charlotte had. You know, her husband stood to gain two millions dollars.”

“No,” the old woman says firmly. “Clark never would have…” “We just have to explore all avenues…”

“Mrs. McKenna, you have to face the reality that she probably isn’t going to get any better than this.” The older woman’s head droops down. “You’re wrong.” “I hope I’m wrong. Believe me.”

He wants to know if the older woman will take care of me. I know she will. She loves me. I can’t remember much, but I know this much.

“You have to understand, Dr. Greenberg,” the older woman says. “I have arthritis and my husband died a few years ago. I’m in my seventies. I just can’t…”

WOOWWWWW

“Will you just let me do this, Charlotte?” she snaps at me. “I’m not in the mood.”

Damn Amy

When my vision focuses in again on Amy’s face, she has the biggest smile I’ve ever seen. “Charly,” she says. “You just made my day.”

Dr. Greenberg is my doctor here, and every day I try to explain to him about the itch in my scalp. I figure, if anyone should be able to help me, it’s a doctor.

Amy, who is my speech therapist, says that the only way I will get that stupid tube out of my belly is if I eat.

But when I turn around, I get a surprise. Jogging behind me is none other than Clark Douglas.

“Hello there, Dr. Charlotte McKenna,” he says, smiling that perfect smile as he too slows to a stop. This is a coincidence, I’m sure. But still, I can’t help but feel the tiniest bit excited.

Girl no he deff stalked u

The most handsome man I’ve ever met in my life is standing in front of me, begging me for a date. There’s something very wrong with this picture.

Clark’s eyes widen. His half-smile widens into a grin, and he straightens out with a newfound burst of energy. We jog together side-by-side for the last lap, and I hang back at the end to let him win.

“Bridget!” I cry. “Look how expensive these are!” Bridget rolls her eyes. “Charly, you’re a doctor. You can afford a stupid dress.”

“She’s cute,” Clark says. He bends down and attempts to pet her, but she backs away and hisses at him.

I already knew he was sus

“You get what you pay for.” “Well, I’m not returning her,” I say. Clark is seeming less and less attractive by the minute.

He crouches down again to make another attempt to pet Kitty. This time he nearly gets his hand on her black fur before she hisses again and scratches at his hand.

He jumps up, clutching his hand. I am totally shocked. In the two years I’ve had Kitty, she’s never once scratched anyone.

I already made an exception for Clark Douglas, and all that got me was a miserable evening that I wished desperately could be over for the entire hour that it lasted.

On one visit, Mrs. Barry sobbed to me how horrible her husband was to her, how he was an asshole who tried to control her, but she didn’t have the self-esteem to leave him. My box of tissues was working overtime that day.

“She sure is,” he growls again. “She’s so much better that she told me she doesn’t want me anymore. She thinks she’s too good for me now.”

“I’ll bet,” Mr. Barry snaps. “Whatever witch medicines you gave her messed with her brain.”

“I know it’s all your fault, Dr. McKenna,” Mr. Barry says, sticking his face in mine. “And believe me, I’m going to make you pay.” I’m going to make you pay.

So I have 3 suspects: clarke, leroy, or Mr.Barry

“Excuse me,” a voice speaks up, “but you can’t talk to Dr. McKenna that way.” The trance is broken. I look over to identify my savior, and see none other than Clark Douglas, standing behind Mr. Barry.

Bruh

That’s when I look down and see that the scratch marks from Kitty have turned an angry red color that’s spread all over the back of his hand.

Oh brother

I try to listen, but I get distracted by a face peering into the small window on the door to the room. It’s a man who looks incredibly familiar to me. He’s very handsome. Like, just so incredibly handsome.

Has to be Clarke

Except then, all of a sudden, it comes to me. “Clark.” He nods, still smiling, but somehow he doesn’t seem quite as happy anymore.

If I had to identify this man’s emotions, I would say that he’s nervous.

“Anyway,” he says. “You look great, Charlotte. Honestly.” I smile at the compliment. Except when I smile, his eyes widen. “What’s wrong?” I ask him. “Your face…” he says.

“It’s just… well, just a little bit lopsided. It’s not a big deal. Hardly even noticeable.”

Dude wtf

My husband, Clark, glances down at his watch. “God,” he says, “I didn’t realize how late it was. I actually have to get going.”

WOOWWWWWW

Get going? Didn’t he just get here? I thought he canceled a whole meeting to come here. Maybe I’m confused though.

He didn’t even bother to take me all the way to my room.

When Natalie wheels me back to my spot in the semicircle, Jamie’s brown eyes meet mine. I expect him to make a comment on how badly I did. I would deserve it. For a lot of reasons. But he doesn’t say a word.

Believe it or not, I’m still dating Clark.

In addition to being ridiculously handsome (have I mentioned that before?), Clark is incredibly interested in my work.

He gets down on one knee. And pulls a blue velvet box from his pocket. No. Way. “Charlotte,” he says.

Wtf... After 6 months ?????