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Chapter Twenty-Eight

Nick woke up when he heard Dr. Takaghishi enter
the room. It had been almost two days since he had been out
of the coma and had the trache removed from his neck.
Still, Nick was afraid to try to talk, so he still didn’t
know if he could.



“Good morning, Nick. How are your feeling today?”
The doctor smiled at Nick waiting for a reply.



Nick smiled back at the doctor. He didn’t make a
sound or even make an attempt to reply.



“Nick, have you tried to talk yet?” The doctor
asked.



Nick shook his head no. He had a pencil and paper
on his nightstand and quickly wrote down the words “scared
to.”



“I can understand why you’d be afraid, but you can
try so we know if everything is okay. You won’t hurt
anything if you talk now. It was good that you didn’t try
to a few days ago, but everything should be healed up by
now. Try saying the word hi.” The doctor instisted that
Nick speak.



Nick opened his mouth to speak. At first air just
came out. Nick cleared his throat and tried again. “Hi.”
The word came out sounding like he had a severe sore throat.
The clarity wasn’t there either. If you didn’t know the
word he was saying, you would never know.



“Good. I think we can have a speech therapist
come in today and work with you. Just keep trying to talk,
it’s only going to get better, the muscles are still tight
from you not talking for a few days.” Dr. Takaghishi wrote
something down in Nick’s chart. “And I’m going to have you
taken off of the IV today too. I’ll see you again
tomorrow.”



Nick smiled. The doctor stopped at the door and
turned back towards Nick.


“I said I’ll see you tomorrow.” He was waiting
for Nick to say something back.



“Bye.” Nick replied, it was again faint and
hoarse.



“Remember to talk.” The doctor left the room.



Nick hated the sound of his voice right now. It
was hoarse, like after you have a bad cold or a sore throat.
The thoughts that ran through his mind was what if this was
the way he would sound for the rest of his life. It scared
him to think of not being able to sing. It scared him even
more to think that he could be left with a voice that would
make people cringe when he spoke. Nick could start to feel
the gloomy depression he was fighting slowly taking over
again.



Nick looked around his hospital room in ICU. He
was sick of the stale air, the machines, the tests. He was
beginning to wonder if he would ever be the same again. He
was tired of being dependent upon people to do things.



“Hi Nick, I’m Stacie and this is Nick from P.T.
We are here to get you out of that bed and sitting in a
chair today. I know you haven’t been out of the bed yet,
have you?” The therapist was a petite girl with waist
length blonde hair that was pulled back in a pony tail.



Nick shook his head no. He knew he was supposed
to try to talk but he wasn’t happy with his voice at the
moment.



“Okay, Nick, lets put your bed up so that you are
sitting up more. We’ll go slow, let me know if you start to
feel woozy, okay?” The male therapist talked to Nick as he
started to raise the head of the bed up.



Nick raised his hand up to get them to stop. He
was feeling dizzy.


“Are you okay?” Stacie asked.



Nick wanted to say wait a few minutes but opted to
just shrug his shoulders.



“What’s wrong?” Stacie asked.


Nick wished she’d ask yes or no type questions.
He shrugged his shoulders again.



“Are you ready to try again?” Stacie asked
cheerfully.



Finally, Nick thought, a yes or no question. Nick
nodded his head in agreement.


As they were moving the bed up again, Nick’s nurse
came into the room.



“I’m going to borrow his left hand for a sec, we
get to take the IV out,” she stated as she was shutting off
the IV pump.



“Good, eh Nick, one less thing to deal with.”
Stacie said happily.



Nick just smiled.



After the nurse finished pulling the IV out and
putting a band-aid on his hand, she asked Nick what his pain
level was.



Nick shook his head no. He was a little sore and
could have used something, but he didn’t want to speak.



“What’s with this?” The nurse imitated Nick’s
shaking his head. “I asked you a question and you’re
supposed to answer. Has he spoke to you guys yet? The
nurse asked the therapists as if Nick wasn’t in the room.



“No, not a word.” Stacie replied.



“He is to be talking, doctors orders. Now, how
about the pain level, Nick.” The nurse waited for an
answer.


Nick tried to say the word six but just hoarseness
came out. He tried to clear his throat and say it again.
This time it came out very faintly.



“Would you like something then?” The nurse asked,
“and answer, don’t nod.”



God, how I hate this woman right now, Nick was
thinking. “Ea” was all of the word yeah that Nick was able
to say. What came out didn’t sound as clearly as it should
have.



“Okay, I’ll be back. Remember to talk.”



Nick watched his nurse leave. He really hated her
insistance on him talking.


“Alright Nick, let’s have you try and sit on the
edge of the bed. Use the rails if you need to help yourself
move.” Stacie said.



Nick struggled to move his legs over to the side
of the bed. They felt so heavy. Finally after what seemed
like an eternity, he was sitting up with his legs hanging
over the side of the bed. He started to feel faint.



“Here, take a sip of your water.” Stacie ordered
him.



Nick took a sip from the straw. The nurse came
back into the room with Nick’s pain pills.



“Doesn’t it feel good to sit up Nick?” the nurse
asked.



Nick cleared his throat. He hoped she would
accept that as an attempt to answer her. It wasn’t.



“Well, isn’t it?” She waited for an answer.



Nick wanted to shout, God I hate you Mary to his
nurse but managed to say a quiet “yes.”



“How are you feeling?” Stacie asked Nick after
Mary left the room.


Nick tried to answer saying “okay” but what came
out wasn’t anything the therapist understood.



“I’m sorry, did you say alright?” She was
guessing.



Nick nodded, it was close enough for him.



“Okay, do you think you’re ready to stand? I’ll
have Nick put the walker in front of you. Now remember to
use your legs and the bed for balance and not the walker,
okay?” Stacie wanted to make sure Nick understood.



Nick nodded. He waited until a therapist was on
either side of him. Nick remembered the routine from the
last time he was in the hospital.



As he slowly stood up, he noticed how his legs
were shakey. Both therapists had grabbed one of his arms to
keep him from falling.



“Easy there. Are you still doing okay?” Stacie
turned to face Nick when she asked the question.



Again, as Nick answered, the word didn’t sound
right.



Evidentally, Stacie thought Nick said no.



“Okay, we’ll have you sit back down then. We’ll
try to have you take a few steps later today.” Stacie
stayed by Nick as he was sitting back in bed. Before he
could turn and get himself into position to lay down, an
orderly appeared in the room with a wheelchair.



“I’m here to take you to speech therapy.”


Nick wasn’t sure he wanted to go there. He was
scared that his voice would never get better.



The orderly brought the wheelchair over to the
bed.



Stacie asked Nick if he would want help
transferring from the bed to the chair.



This is one thing I know I can do, Nick thought to
himself.



Nick used his upper body to get off the bed and
into the chair.



“That was pretty good Nick, but remember next time
to try and use your legs.” Stacie observed. “I’ll be back
in the afternoon to have you take a few steps. See you
then.”


Nick was thankful that Stacie didn’t wait for a
reply from him.



“Okay, are you ready to go?” The orderly asked
Nick.



Nick nodded. He did not want to go but he knew
that he had no other choice. He was scared. His whole life
was his voice, without that he would be nobody, he let his
thoughts drift towards all of the negative things that would
be if his singing was taken away from him.



“When you are done with speech, you will be going
to a regular room instead of ICU. I don’t know if they told
you that.” The orderly made small talk while they were in
the elevator.



Nick kept his eyes focused on the floor. He did
not want to make small talk with anyone. The elevator
seemed to take forever to get to the sixth floor. Worse
yet, when they got to the therapy room, the orderly parked
the wheelchair and told him it would be a few minutes before
the therapist would be over to see him.


“Great, here I sit with everyone walking by me and
staring at me,” Nick thought to himself. He prayed that no
one would come up and talk to him. His worse fears were
realized when a young girl in her teens boldly approached
him.



“Excuse me, are you Nick Carter?” She looked down
at Nick when she asked him.



Nick wouldn’t and couldn’t talk to this girl. He
shook his head no and put his hand up to his throat.



“What, you can’t talk? Oh my god, no, please tell
me it isn’t true.” The girl looked upset. This was not
what Nick had in mind, he was hoping she would think he
meant no. Desperately, he tried to think of a way out of
the situation. He motioned that he needed something to
write on and a pencil.



The girl had a piece of paper and a pen. Nick
hastily scribbled on the paper: No, sorry, you must have me
confused with someone else.



As Nick handed the paper back to the girl to read,
the speech therapist picked the worst time possible to come
to Nick.



“Hi Nick, are you ready to get started?”



The girl’s mouth dropped open. “You are Nick
Carter. Oh my god, what happened?”



Nick couldn’t speak on his behalf, he shrugged his
shoulders. Thankfully, the therapist turned the wheelchair
to take Nick to the room.


“What happened?” The girl still was waiting for
an answer.



“I’m sorry, but it is a policy not to discuss
patient’s records with strangers.” The therapist finally
stepped in and responded to the girl.



Nick prayed that this was the farthest this would
carry. All he needed was for this to get out to the media.
They would have a field day with that.



“Okay, Nick, I want to see what range your voice
is left with right now. Can you say the letter a?”



Nick looked at the woman’s hospital identification
tag. Her name was Jane. It instantly made him think of his
mother.


Nick tried to say “aye” but all that would come
out was something that sounded like it came from an animal.
It was low and gutteral.



“Can you clear your throat?” Jane asked him.



Nick nodded and cleared his throat, even that
didn’t sound normal or natural.



“Try saying the letter a again but this time, try
saying it softly, almost a whisper.” Jane encouraged.



“Aye.” Nick almost couldn’t hear himself, but he
thought what he heard was what he wanted to say.



“Very good, Nick. Now say the letter b.” Jane
wrote something down in the chart. “Do it softly again as
before.”



Nick licked his lips as if he was attempting to
climb a mountain. “Bee.” Again, it was very soft, but it
was clear.



After spending thirty minutes with Jane working on
his speech, Nick found that he could say short sentences as
long as he spoke just barely whispering.



“Okay, Nick, I want you to keep talking like we
are practicing, your range will improve once your muscles
get stronger. It’s just best to talk the way you are right
now, your voice has had a trauma and it will take time to
heal.” Jane tried to encourage Nick.


“Okay, thanks.” Nick replied. It was very soft,
almost too soft, but at least he could say something back
for a change.



“We’ll try something new tomorrow. Okay?”



“Okay.” Nick smiled. He was praying that
tomorrow he would be able to speak up louder and clearer.