Finding Jaime

Three months after the assault, and about a month after Jaime first 'woke up', we brought him home. There seemed to be no real reason to keep him in the hospital. His physical wounds had healed. He might have further surgeries and that would be determined at regular appointments with his doctors and surgeons.

He would still receive physical therapy, but we'd split it between the physio department at the hospital and home.

Once we had gotten a wheelchair for him and a bed in his room that would be easier to transition him in and out of, we brought him home. We hoped familiar surroundings would help bring Jaime back to us.

He still was... gone. When his eyes were open, they were dull and lifeless. He gave absolutely no indication as to whether he could hear us, if he could see, what, if anything, he could hear. He would have a nurse at home overnight who would set up his feeds. He'd had a feeding tube inserted and was feeding exclusively through it. He took nothing by mouth. We tried, still, hoping to elicit a response to something. There wasn't any.

Today, I was standing in the pool, holding Jaime as I let him float. I'd put a pair of sunglasses on him because his eyes were open and he was staring at the sky. Otherwise he was in his swim trunks and a life jacket to help hold his head out of the water.

His physiotherapist had said we could take him into the pool anytime on our own, after showing us safe ways to transfer him, and let him float while trying to straighten his arms and legs and massaging them to try to help keep his joints loose.

"The buoyancy of the water will make it easier to manipulate his joints. He won't have the same resistance as on land. And you'll probably be able to feel his entire body relax," the therapist had said. So, we had him in the pool at least once a day as time permitted with everyone else's schedule and Jaime's appointments.

And indeed, moving him around in water was much easier. It was about the only easy thing about all of this.

"Hey, Jaime," I said as he lay on his back in the water, propped up by the life jacket he was wearing. "What do you think? Maybe we'll have you ready for the olympics?" I smiled at him. "Champion back floater. What do you think?"

Jaime didn't move. Jaime didn't respond. Behind the sunglasses, Jaime didn't even blink. His empty eyes stared straight.

Bronx and Saint, home from school, asked if they could swim with us. I agreed and they were back down and in the water in short time.

"Jaime," Saint said. "Wanna race?"

The boys did everything they could to try to elicit a response from their brother. Despite them never getting a response, they continued to try. I smiled as they tried to include Jaime.

After I'd been in the pool with Jaime for about an hour, I got him out and into his wheelchair, which I had put a couple of towels on to dry him off, and then covered him with a towel.

I sat with him in the sun, making sure to put sunscreen on the exposed parts, such as his face, ears, feet.

"Hi Daddy!" Marvel cried as she and Meagan came home from Marvel's play date with a friend.

"Hi Pumpkin," I smiled at her. "Jaime, Marvel's home."

"Can I sit on Jaime?" She asked.

"What do you think, Jaime? Can Marvel snuggle with you?" I asked him. He wouldn't answer, but I always asked him.

I lifted Marvel onto Jaime's lap and let her snuggle into him. She didn't care that Jaime didn't move or hug her back. She just liked being close to her big brother. I listened as Marvel told him about her day.

Jaime didn't move.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Wentz," a voice said, getting my attention.

"Pete? Anya is... oh. Hi. I guess you know Anya is here," Meagan came outside.

"Oh. Is Anya here. I hadn't noticed," I laughed. "Hi, Anya. How are you?"

"I'm well, thank you. How has Jaime been, today?"

"He's been alright," I said. "As you can see, we were just in the pool having a little float."

"I do see," Anya said as she approached. "How was that, Jaime? Did you enjoy your swim?"

Anya spoke to Jaime as though he were an average sixteen year old. As though he could and would answer. 

"Since you're in your swim trunks, Jaime, I'm going to take a quick look at your feeding tube site, okay? Just want to make sure it's staying clean and not getting infected," Anya said, her hand on Jaime's, before moving the towel to look at the site.

"It's a little red," Anya said. "I'll put some cream on it when I set up his feed, but you'll want to keep an eye on it."

I looked over Jaime's inert body and saw it looked a little red.

"Okay. Good to know. Thanks, Anya," I smiled. She returned the smile. I liked Anya. She was good with Jaime and helped out a little once Jaime's feed was set up. She would at the very least, interact with the kids. There were a few mornings when we'd come downstairs and find that Anya had done up whatever dishes had been left, or had tidied up some toys that Marvel had left out. It wasn't her job to clean up after us be she'd said that it gave her something to do once Jaime was settled in bed.

She did spend most of the night in Jaime's room, checking his feed, making sure his special mattress that would help keep him from getting pressure sores was functioning properly.  But even she needed a break from time to time and we had no problem. We made sure she knew that she was welcome to anything in the fridge or cupboards, and occasionally, she made herself something to eat.

Every morning she had the coffee on already.

I was, however, looking forward to the day that maybe we wouldn't need her anymore.

But that looked like it was further and further away.