I'm Sorry (Sequel to "No Feeling")

Chapter 14

Marleah POV

I stood, gripping the handles of the wheelchair protectively, Kevin standing next to me.

I was on edge, and nobody except Mitch had talked to me for an hour.

Now, I had just wheeled him into another room, a boardroom, where we could talk about his condition with someone qualified.

"Ms. Freed?" I turned to see another lady standing there. She had bright red hair pulled back into a small ponytail.

As I surveyed her, none too discreetly, she gave me a warm smile and gestured to a seat beside Mitch.

"Please, have a seat." And Kevin and I did.

Sensing our movement, a zoned-out Mitch reached out and grabbed my hand to prevent me from moving too far.

"Shh, honey. It's okay, I'm just sitting down," I cooed and his grip slackened a fraction.

The lady sat down on the other side of the table, facing us. Kevin gripped my other hand comfortingly.

As she pulled her chair closer to the table, she placed several files down so we could see them.

Curiously, I glanced at them, expecting to see Mitch's medical files. Instead, I saw a different name scribbled on top of each of them.

"What is this?" I asked, my voice strangely hoarse. "Who are these people?"

The lady sighed. "I am Doctor Nicole Kingsley, L.A. Hospital's residential neurologist and psychiatrist."

Kevin nodded patiently. "Thank you for seeing us. But, who are those people?" He pointed to the files.

"Of course," she said calmly. "These are the names of seven young adults who were in a similar state to Mitch." Her matter-of-fact voice spoke quietly, but in a clipped, professional tone.

"Similar state?" I was lost. Beyond lost. Mitch had a seizure, and selective amnesia. They did case files on that? Since when?

"Yes, almost identical, except for a variable of age, gender, and well... general daily life. They all received multiple seizures, followed by  a bout of selective amnesia."

"Okay, but how is this relevant to Mitch? I mean, it's awful, I am not denying I feel sympathy towards those people, but how does that information affect Mitch?" I asked again.

"Sorry, I will get to the point," she took a deep breath. "I... I can cure him. I have cured others. Restored their memories, their previous personalities, the works. From what I understand, Mitch's last seizure occurred today?"

I nodded slowly.

"Well, then. There's plenty of time to really consider this. It's an operation, a neurosurgery. He will have to remain awake, obviously, but I can assure minimal pain. It's a... risky procedure to say the least. If something goes wrong, it will have much the same effect as a stroke. Loss of speech and motor abilities, being paralyzed. However, 6 out of 7 patients walked away, speaking, in the same personality as before their first seizure."

I looked cautiously at Kevin, then at Mitch.

His dazed expression caused tears to spring up in my eyes.

"Um," my voice broke and I let out a small sob, my hand flying to my mouth.

Mitch's shaking hand reached out quickly, feeling around for a bit before grasping my own and squeezed it comfortingly.

I looked at him and saw a curious, worried expression on his face.

He blindly patted around the air for a few seconds before calling out.

"Mar?" This wasn't happening.

"Yes, Mitchie? I'm right here." I said soothingly, patting his hand.

His head flew over to me, but his eyes were unfocused, far away.

"I- I can't see..." He said nervously.

I held his hands tightly in mine, and I looked over at Kevin, who was looking worriedly at me.

"He can't see," I stated to Dr. Kingsley.

She nodded. "Right, that's a disorder known as 'conversion disorder,' specifically hysterical blindness." She rattled off in a mechanical tone.

"Nearly all of my patients had it and all of them walked away seeing again."

That sealed the deal for me perfectly. Still, the nagging worry didn't leave me. 6 out of 7? Something could go wrong with Mitch...

"Mitch, what do you think?" Kevin asked him.

"I want my vision back," he said seriously.

"But honey-" I choked out. "You could be paralyzed, or worse."

"No, Mar. I want to see. I need to see. The risks can screw themselves. If you won't sign the waiver, I will." When he was determined, he was very determined.

I looked at Kevin pleadingly, but he shrugged too.

"It's his decision at the end of the day, Marleah," he told me solemnly.

I'd done research about Mitch's disorder, and I tried one last thing.

"But, you can cure hysterical blindness with normal therapy. Without surgery." I said suspiciously.

Dr. Kingsley shrugged. "Sure, but it can take months. Years, even. Plus, you wouldn't be restoring his memories or personality. But it is wise to consider the risks."

I nodded, breathing in slowly. What was I about to do to Mitch?

I squeezed Mitch's hand. I was terrified. This decision was on Kevin and I. What if we decided wrong? What if he got hurt? It would be all our faults, and I'd never forgive myself or Scott for putting us in this mess.

I nodded to Kevin, and he inhaled deeply.

"He'll do it," he said.

Dr. Kingsley nodded. "Alright. I'll be in touch with you to set up a date and time. For now, I'm going to have to request that Mitch stay here until the date of the surgery."

"Of course," Kevin said. "Thank you."

I stared at the desk until Kevin elbowed me.

I looked up mechanically and smiled. "Yes, thank you."

She nodded briskly as she walked out of the room, and my eyes wandered over to Mitch who had a peaceful look on his face.

"Can we go now? I'm really tired."

I nodded, before I remembered he couldn't see me.

"Sure, hon. Let's go," I said, wheeling him back to his room, Kevin close behind us.