Hush, the doctor is here.

4. Chocolate milk

This morning Brian and I had done the exercises I was recommended just like the past week.
Every day seemed to be the same.
Wake up, breakfast, physio, rest, lunch, some puzzles to train my brain, dinner, tv and then time to sleep.
Besides my physical body I didn't notice any improvements to my memory.
It made me insecure and impatient.

The wheelchair was gone from my room now and replaced with crutches, they were leaning against the side of my bed.
Brian was out today, he had the afternoon off and had made sure I had everything I needed until he was back again.
If I needed anything else all I had to do was press the alarm and one of his co-workers would come, he told me.
And although it was tempting to see if that was true and see someone else, I didn't want to call them for nothing.

"Hey there, little mouse. How are you doing today?"

Dr. Mitchell walked in the room and sat down on the far end of my bed.
His bright blue eyes scanning my expressions like any other doctor would when they ask that question.

"A bit bored without anyone to talk to."

I looked away towards the door.
Should I ask him?
I know Brian told me to be patient but it really bothered me that I still didn't remember anything from before I woke up.

"Uhm... doctor? How long is this going to take? I mean until my memories should be coming back?"

Dr. Mitchell tilted his head a bit while he stared back at me.

"That is hard to say, the brain is an interesting but complex thing. They could come back any minute. It could come back in bit's and pieces or all at once. But there is also a chance you will never get them back."

Shaken by that last comment I stared back at Dr. Mitchell, who was now gently rubbing my lower leg in a comforting way.
There is a chance I will never get them back?
What the hell am I supposed to do then?
I still don't know who I am or if someone is missing me.
How am I supposed to go on with my life like this?
I have nothing!
No money, no clothes of my own.
Everything I have here in the hospital isn't even mine to begin with.
I won't have anyone to fall back on anymore, I mean Brian and Dr. Mitchell are just taking care of me because it's their job.
That will end if that mysterious benefactor stops paying the bills, then I will be on the streets.

"Hey, hey little mouse. There is no need to get so scared already, it's still very early in your recovery. But as a professional I do need to inform you of all the possibilities. And it is possible that your memory won't come back. But you don't need to worry about that, if that happens we will still help you."

I looked up at the warm eyes of Dr. Mitchell, there really was no worry in his.
My panic was slowly subsiding as I was taking comfort in his last words.
Are they really going to help me if that happens?

"How... how long until you know for sure my memories won't come back?"

Dr. Mitchell chuckled softly and moved the few hairs that had fallen out of his ponytail back behind his ear.

"There is no timescale for that, but the longer it lasts the more likely it is that they will stay away."

The satisfied smirk he had for a second had me confused, but when I blinked it had been replaced with his normal serious expression.
Was it just my imagination?

"Now, let's not dwell on these depressing thoughts. Are you up for a little walk? We can get something to drink in the nurse's office. I know they have some excellent hot chocolate in the machine there."

Hot chocolate, that sounds nice.
I nodded and got on the edge of the bed.
Dr. Mitchell handed me the crutches and I hopped behind him towards the hall, happy for the distraction.
Because it was still hard and exhausting for me to walk with the crutches, I didn't notice until we were at the nurse office that we hadn't crossed paths with anyone.