The big motorcycle jerked sideways as the fragment of the truck tire slammed into it, and it was all Rick could do to keep from going off the road as he braked hard and aimed for the right shoulder. Ann slumped against his shoulder for a moment, and then she began beating frantically at his shoulders. He looked into the right hand mirror to see her fighting to get her helmet off, and saw that the right side of the Shoei appeared to be bent inward. Her hands struggled less frantically after a few seconds, and then she slumped against him.
He slid the Harley to a stop and laid it down on the left side crash bars. As it tilted, Ann fell off onto the gravel, obviously unconscious. He ripped her helmet off the rest of the way and noticed several things immediately, her right eye was protruding nearly out of its socket, the teeth he could see in her gaping mouth were broken and jagged and she was not breathing. He peeled the Velcro apart at her jacket neck and was horrified to see a massive bruise already forming as her unconscious body began to enter Agonal breathing as it tried valiantly to inhale through her crushed throat.
His years in Vietnam flashed back to him in an instant, and he had cut an emergency trach into her neck within 30 seconds, inserting two of the frozen drink straws they'd gotten at the gas station into the opening to maintain the airway. They made an eerie hooting sound as her body pulled in the life giving air.
One of the other riders had already called 911, and he could hear the wail of sirens over the roaring in his own head as he checked Ann's pulse, which was strong but rapid. He followed the ambulance to the hospital, and after giving his information, began the long wait for news.
After about an hour a small female form dressed in sweaty scrubs came out of the surgery doors and walked toward him. His gut ran cold, at least until she pulled her mask down and he saw the tired smile.
"Mr. James?" she said confidently.
"Yes Ma'am," he replied.
"I'm Dr. Ellis. Your wife is going to be okay, although it's going to take some adjustment on both of your parts to get it done. I can say with confidence that the only reason that you are talking to me instead of a funeral director is because of your instant action at the scene. Vietnam?"
"Yes Ma'am. Four tours, '68 to '71. Tell me about her damage, okay? I presume she's got a concussion and that she has lost the eye."
"Okay, here goes. You're batting 1000 so far, unfortunately. The eye was beyond repair and the concussion will be a nasty one for a day or two, so we'll keep her under while we watch her cranial pressure, and make sure she doesn't have a bleed. She lost all her teeth, and has a maxillary fracture as well as the orbital bone under the eye. The ENT surgeon implanted a coral sphere while doing the enucliation, so she'll be able to have a prosthetic eye."
"Airway?" he asked.
"Her neck was grenaded, so we had no choice but to give her a permanent trach. The damage was low enough that the epiglottis was destroyed, which sealed the decision about whether to proceed with the trach or not. I have to tell you that this combination of events is going to make it very difficult, if not impossible for her to utilize esophageal speech. The contusion nearly ruptured her right carotid, and we fixed that as well. I will wait for her to stabilize and then we'll talk about a prosthetic eye and the stuff that goes along with that. I'd like you to be with her when she wakes up, since she's likely to panic when she can't talk, but I'm keeping her in twilight sleep for a while, so we've got some time. Any questions?"
"Probably a ton eventually, but for now, as long as she's alive, it's all good, Doc. Thank you for your skill."
"You're welcome. Thank you for your service"
"It was an honor, Doc."
"She's in for a tough time. I'm glad you're here for her."
"We've had bad times, Doc. We'll get through this one too."
"I'll see you tomorrow, okay? I had them put a bed in the ICU so you can stay with her. Oh, I will have a couple of women come see you over the next two days. One has a trach, and she'll fill you in about trach care and get you started on ASL. The other is an ocularist, and she'll go over options for prosthetic eyes."
As soon as the nurse gave him the high sign, he went into the ICU suite, and she looked just about like he'd expected; full of tubes, with a head and face twice its normal size from swelling. Her right eye was covered with a huge patch of gauze and her mouth was taped shut, her lips swollen and bruised much like her head. A breathing tube pulsed slowly at the base of her neck, and the machines, grouped around her like protective robots, hissed and beeped softly.
The next couple of days and nights passed agonizingly slowly for Rick, but he was so thankful that his Annie was still alive that he spent them counting his blessings and stroking the undamaged side of her face. She stirred occasionally in her drug-induced nights, grimacing as if reliving the accident, but a gentle hand was always near and ready to soothe.
"Mr. James?" a strange, soft voice woke him gently in the middle of the third morning. He sat up sharply, instantly recalling the awful events of the recent past, and his tired eyes focused upon a small blonde woman standing at the foot of Annie's bed, a clipboard folded inside her crossed arms. Her blue eyes twinkled brightly, and he was embarrassed to note that her clipboard pushed her breasts up into an impressive cleavage. She held out her hand and took his in a
firm grip.
"I'm Erica Johansen, Mr. James. I'll be the speech therapist for you and your wife." Her voice was soft and gutteral, and he realized that she was the woman with the trach, and he was hearing the esophageal speech the Doctor had mentioned. Suddenly he felt his face burn, and he was astonished to feel tears run down his cheeks. The thought had just occurred to him that he would never hear Annie's voice again, and the thought filled him with remorse.
"I'm sorry, Ma'am, I don't know what came over me. Please forgive me, I meant no disrespect, but I just realized I will never hear her voice again."
"I know...What you're thinking... Mr. James, and it's...totally okay. This isn't... my first rodeo." Her halting speech was accompanied by a hitching motion in her shoulders, which periodically set her large breasts in motion as she inhaled, apparently through a hole like the one at the base of Ann's neck.
"We have a lot...of ground to...cover, so if it's okay with you...I'll get started."
"Please do, Ms. Johansen, and please call me Rick."
"It's a deal if...you call me Erica."
"Done deal, Erica."
"So first...let's meet the 800...pound gorilla, okay?" She untied the silk scarf around her neck, revealing a hole nearly the size of a quarter at the base of her elegant neck. She reached out and took his hand, placing it in front of the hole, and he felt hot air on his palm as she exhaled.
"You may feel it if...you like, it's not...fragile at all."
He placed his first two fingers at the opening and circled it slowly. It was firm and slightly moist. She took his finger and plugged her stoma with it gently. As his finger blocked her breathing, she said,
"It's air drawn...into the stomach and...the spaces above it." He reclaimed his hand as Erica said, "I hope very much that you'll hear her voice...again, Rick. It won't...be the same voice...but it will definitely...be hers. One thing...I have to tell...you is that...esophageal speech...has only about...a 40% success rate, and ...because of the level of damage... done to her throat, there's...a very good likelihood that...she won't be able to...master it, but there...are other options."
"So, Erica, there won't be any sound at all it she can't figure this out?"
"Put your ear right...next to my mouth, Rick, and...I'll let you hear what I sound...like without the E.S., and then I'll do...a different thing with...my mouth and...we'll see if you...can tell the...difference."
Rick leaned toward her and found himself staring down Erica's cleavage, a not to unpleasant view. He could feel her mouth move, and a soft breeze caressed his cheek from her stoma, but he heard nothing. He withdrew a little and she inhaled deeply and opened her mouth in a scream. She exhaled mightily, and he heard nothing but a hiss from her stoma, even though her mouth formed words. She drew him to her again, and this time he vaguely heard a wet voice. "If I bring a lot of moisture into my mouth, I can move it around and be heard a little. This is handy for intimate conversations when you don't want to burp at your partner. It also lets you speak more or less endlessly when you get it right, which is a pleasant change from the halting speech I have normally. By the way, I can't be sure about Annie, and forgive me if I seem too forward, but I no longer have a gag reflex, which can come in handy; plus, I never have to open my mouth to take a breath, if you know what I mean."