Amish Christmas Memories. Vannetta Chapman

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       “Ya.”

      “Still no memory of what happened before Caleb found you?”

       “Nein.”

      “And you can’t remember how you got this bump?”

      “The first thing I remember is...is Caleb carrying me to his house.”

      The doctor plumped the pillows behind her, waited until Rachel had sat back and then shone the penlight in her eyes again.

      “I’m sorry. I know this is uncomfortable.”

      “It’s just the headache...”

      Dr. Gold nodded in sympathy and then clicked off the light. “Rachel, you have a slight concussion, which is why you’re experiencing a sensitivity to light, a blinding headache and nausea.”

      She remembered vomiting in Ida’s sink and grimaced.

      “How long will that last?”

      “In most cases, symptoms improve in seven to ten days.”

      “That’s gut.”

      “But the actual healing of your brain could take months.”

      “I don’t understand.”

      “Most often a concussion occurs when you’ve sustained a blow to the head. In this case, you have a sizable knot at the back of your head and toward the top. Can you remember anything at all that led up to your accident?”

      Rachel shook her head and spikes of pain brought tears to her eyes.

      “I’m not surprised. You have what we call retrograde amnesia caused by a concussion. Often in such a situation, patients have problems remembering events leading up to an accident.”

      “I still don’t understand.”

      “Retrograde amnesia or a concussion?”

      “Both.”

      Dr. Gold smiled and patted her hand. “Concussions happen all too often. The brain itself is rather like Jell-O. When a concussion occurs, your brain slides back and forth and bumps up against the walls of your skull. Basically the brain is bruised, and like all bruises it takes time to heal.”

      “What would cause such a thing?” Caleb asked. His expression had turned rather fierce. “Does it mean that someone hit her?”

      “Not necessarily.” Dr. Gold cocked her head, studying both Ida and Caleb for a few seconds. Then she turned her attention back to Rachel. “You could have been in a car accident, or fallen off a bicycle or simply tripped, and hit your head against the ground.”

      “And that would cause a concussion?” Ida asked. “Just falling?”

      Caleb sank back into the chair and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, fingers interlaced. “Did it happen when she fell in the snow?”

      “Not likely,” Dr. Gold said. “I suspect that Rachel sustained her injury before you ever saw her. It’s why she was meandering back and forth across the road. Concussions often result in vertigo.”

      “Can you tell how long it’s been?” Ida asked.

      “I can’t. There was no bleeding from the wound, so I rather doubt that someone hit her. More likely it was a simple accident.”

      “What about my memory?” Rachel asked. “When will it return?”

      “Memories are tricky things. You remembered my name, and you know who these people are. Correct?”

      “Caleb.” She met his gaze, remembered again being in his arms. “And Ida, his mamm.”

      “Which is a good sign. This tells us your brain is still working the way it should.”

      “But I wouldn’t have remembered my name if it hadn’t been written in that book, and I still don’t know where I live or who I am.”

      “In most cases those memories will return in time.”

      “How much time?”

      “Remember what I said earlier? You don’t just have a concussion. You also have retrograde amnesia.”

      “And what does that mean?”

      “That it may be a few days or weeks or even months before you regain your memories.”

      Rachel felt as if she was falling into a long, dark tunnel. She stared down at the cotton blanket covering her and grasped it between both of her hands. “That long?”

      “I’m afraid so, but the good news is that your memory is working now, and it will continue to work. You may not be able to remember what happened before the accident, but you can create new memories. Plus you’re healthy in every other way.”

      “But what am I to do? Where will I live?”

      “If you’d like, we have a social worker here at the hospital that can meet with you and find temporary housing for you. We’ll also put you in contact with a liaison with the Daviess County Sheriff’s Office. Perhaps your family has reported you missing. It could be that they’re looking for you even now.”

      “What do I do until they find me?”

      “Be patient. Give your brain time to heal. Live your life.”

      “I don’t have any money, though.”

      “There are charities that provide funds for those in need. You don’t need to worry about money right now.”

      “She doesn’t need to worry about where to live, either.” Ida stood and moved to the side of the bed. She was about Rachel’s height but looked a bit shorter, owing to her weight. She wasn’t big exactly, but rounded, like a grandmother should be. She was probably close to fifty with gray and brown strands of hair peeking out from under her prayer kapp. “Rachel, we would be happy to have you stay with us. We have an extra room. It’s only Caleb and John and myself, so it’s a fairly quiet environment. You can rest and heal.”

      Rachel didn’t know if that was a good idea. Ida and John seemed like a nice couple, and Caleb had saved her, but she wasn’t sure they wanted a brain-injured person living with them. Then again, what choice did she have?

      She didn’t want to go to a police station.

      She didn’t want to wait on a social worker.

      “Stay with us,” Ida repeated.

      “Ya.” Rachel nodded, wiping away the tears that had begun to slide down her cheeks. “Okay. Danki.”

      Dr. Gold was pleased with the arrangement, and Ida was grinning as if Christmas had come early, but when Rachel glanced at Caleb, she wasn’t sure if she saw relief or regret in his eyes.

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