Sisters (18 page)

At least Annie didn't have long months or years of surgeries ahead of her, Sabrina said on the way to the hospital, looking for the bright side. But other than that, there was none. A blind artist was about as depressing as it could get, and they were all sure that Annie would feel that way too. She had lost her career, and everything she had trained for, as well as her mother. She had been torturing herself all week about what she should have done in the accident, and how it might have been different if she could have grabbed the steering wheel from her mother, but there hadn't been time. She had classic survivor guilt, and her sisters told her over and over, to no avail, that it wouldn't have made a difference. It all happened too fast. They assured her again and again that no one blamed her, but she clearly blamed herself.

Annie was lying in bed quietly when they walked into the room. Candy was wearing short shorts, a thin white T-shirt, and silver sandals, and heads had turned when she walked down the hall. She looked incredible, although Sabrina had complained about the see-through T-shirt. She didn't think every worker, doctor, and visitor in the hospital needed a clear view of her sister's nipples.

“Oh, don't be so uptight. In Europe everyone goes topless,” Candy grumbled.

“This isn't Europe.” She went topless at their pool, which embarrassed Chris and her father, but Candy was oblivious to people seeing her body. She had made a career of showing it off.

“What's Candy wearing?” Annie asked with a grin. She could hear them crabbing at each other as they walked in, and Tammy had put her two cents in, saying that if she had paid as much for her breasts as Candy had, she'd be selling tickets and holding viewings to amortize the investment.

“She's not wearing much,” Sabrina complained, “and what she is wearing, you can see through,” she said as Annie laughed.

“She can get away with it,” Annie commented.

“How're you doing?” Tammy asked her as they gathered around her bed, waiting for the doctor.

“Okay, I guess. I can't wait to get these bandages off. The tape itches, and I'm so sick of sitting here in the dark. I want to see you guys,” she said, smiling, as her sisters said nothing. Sabrina handed her a glass of juice with a straw and helped her get it to her lips. “How's Dad?”

“He's doing okay. Thank God for Chris, he's keeping him occupied. I think they're fixing every door in the house, making sure every drawer rolls smoothly, changing lightbulbs. I have no idea what they're doing, but they seem very busy.” Annie laughed at the image. And the doctor walked in five minutes later. He exuded an air of quiet confidence, and smiled as he looked at all four sisters. He had already seen them several times that week, and had commented that Annie was a lucky woman to have such strong family support. He said it wasn't always that way between sisters. And he realized now that he was facing all four, not just one, for this painful moment.

He told Annie that when he took the bandages off, she was not going to see anything different than she did now. As he said it, Sabrina held her breath, and Tammy reached out and squeezed her hand. This was awful. Candy was standing beside them.

“Why won't I see anything different?” Annie asked, frowning. “Does it take a while for my vision to come back?”

“Let's try it,” he said calmly, and carefully began removing the bandages she had worn for the last week. Annie asked him then if there were stitches he had to take out, and he said there weren't. The stitches were all dissolving ones, and were inside. Many of the cuts on her face had begun to heal by then. Only the gash on her forehead was likely to leave a scar, but if she wanted to, she could cover it with bangs. Or have it taken care of later. Candy had been putting vitamin E oil on her sister's face all week.

Once the gauze bandages were removed, the only thing left were the two round patches that covered her eyes. The doctor glanced at Annie's sisters then, and finally back at her.

“I'm going to take the eye patches off now, Annie,” he said carefully. “I want you to close your eyes. Will you do that for me?”

“Yes,” she said in a whisper. She had the feeling that something was happening, and it didn't feel right. She didn't know what it was, but the tension in the room was palpable and she didn't like it.

He took the patches off, and Annie had done what she was told and closed her eyes. He shielded her eyes with his hand then, and asked Sabrina to close the venetian blinds. Even in her blindness, the sunlight could be a shock. Sabrina did it, and they waited, as he asked Annie to open her eyes. There was a moment of terrifying silence in the room, as Sabrina expected her to scream, but she didn't. Instead she looked puzzled and mildly frightened, but he had warned her.

“What do you see, Annie?” he asked her. “Do you see light?”

“A little, like a very pale gray,” she said specifically, “kind of a pale gray, and black around the edges. I can't see anything else.” He nodded, and tears rolled silently down first Tammy's cheeks, and then Sabrina's. Candy tiptoed from the room. She couldn't stand it. It was just too painful to watch. Annie heard the sound of the door whooshing closed but didn't ask who it was. She was concentrating on what she saw, and didn't. “I can't see anything, just that pale gray light in the middle of my field of vision.”

He held a hand in front of her face then, with his fingers spread apart. “What do you see now?”

“Nothing. What are you doing?”

“I'm holding my hand in front of your eyes.” He signaled to Sabrina to open the blinds again, which she did. “And now? Is the light any brighter?”

“A little. The gray is a little lighter, but I still don't see your hand.” She sounded breathless, and was beginning to look very frightened. “How long will it be before I can see normally again? I mean everything, like shapes and faces and color?” It was a painfully direct question, and he was honest with her.

“Annie, things happen sometimes that can't be fixed. We do every single thing we can to fix them, but once they're broken, or connections are severed, we can't link them up again, no matter how hard we try. One of those pipes that hit you in the accident severed your optic nerves, and the veins that feed them. Once that happens, it's pretty close to impossible to repair the damage. I believe that you will see light and shadows in time. You may even see forms and outlines, and you may even have an impression of color, very much like the way you do now. The light is very bright in this room now, that's the pearl-gray color you see. Without that, the gray would be darker. That may improve slightly over time, but only very slightly. Annie, I know this is hard to conceive of now, but you're very lucky to be alive. The damage could have been far greater— your brain was not permanently damaged in the accident. Your eyes were. But, Annie, you could have lost your life.” It was a tough speech to make, even for him, and he was well aware that she was an artist. Everyone in her family had told him, but it didn't change the damage that had been done to her eyes. And no matter how much he wanted to, there was nothing he could do about it. That didn't make it any easier for Annie now.

“What are you saying to me?” Annie said, looking panicked. She turned her face toward where she thought her sisters were, and could see nothing. And even the gray she had seen at first seemed dimmer now, as she turned her face away from the light. “What do you mean? Am I blind?” There was an infinitesimal pause before he answered, as her sisters stood there looking as though their hearts would break for her.

“Yes, Annie, you are,” the doctor said quietly, and held her hand. She yanked it away from him and started to cry.

“Are you serious? I'm
blind
? I can't see
anything
? I'm an
artist
! I
have
to see! How can I paint if I can't see?” How could she cross a street, see a friend, cook a meal, or even find her toothpaste? Or get out of the way of traffic? Her sisters were far more concerned about the more basic issues than her art. “I
have
to see!!” she said again. “Can't you fix it?” She was sobbing like a child, as Sabrina and Tammy reached over to touch her so she would know they were still there.

“We tried to fix it,” the surgeon said miserably. “We had you in surgery for five hours, just working on your eyes. The damage was too severe. The optic nerves had been destroyed. It really is a miracle you're alive. Sometimes miracles come at a high price. I think this is one of those. I'm really sorry. There are a lot of things you can do to have a good life. Jobs, travel, you can lead a fully independent life. People without sight do remarkable things in the world. Famous people, important people, ordinary people like you and me. You just have to take a different approach than the one you had before.” He knew his words were falling on deaf ears. It was too soon, but he had to say something to give her hope, and she might remember it later. But for now, she had to absorb the shock of being blind.

“I don't want to be ‘a person without sight’!” she shouted at him. “I want my eyes back. What about a transplant? Can I have someone else's eyes?” She was desperate and ready to sell her soul to get back her sight.

“There's too much damage,” he said honestly. He didn't want to give her false hope. She might see light and shadows one day, but she would never have her sight. She was blind. At her father's request, another ophthalmologist had examined her records that week, and had come to all the same conclusions.

“Oh my God,” she said, as her head dropped back onto the pillow, and she sobbed uncontrollably. Her sisters stepped up to her bedside then, one on either side of her, and the doctor patted her hand and left the room. There was nothing more he could do for her right now. She needed them. He was the villain who had just destroyed all hope of life as she had known it until now. He would meet with her again, and help design a treatment plan for her, and make suggestions about the training she would need. But it was too soon for that. Although he was usually more dispassionate, these four women, and especially his patient, had moved him deeply. He felt like an ax murderer as he left the room, and wished he could have done more for her, but he couldn't. No one could have. At least he had managed to preserve her eyeballs so she wasn't disfigured. She was such a beautiful girl.

Candy saw him leave the room with a grief-stricken face, and slipped back in. She saw Sabrina and Tammy on either side of her, and saw Annie sobbing uncontrollably as they held her.

“Oh my God … I'm blind … I'm blind …” Candy started to cry the moment she saw her. “I want to die …I want to die … I'll never see anything again … my life is over….”

“No, it isn't, baby,” Sabrina said softly as she held her. “It isn't. It feels that way, but it isn't. I'm sorry. I know this is hard. It's awful. But we love you, and you're alive. You're not brain-damaged, you're not crippled or paralyzed from the neck down. We have a lot to be grateful for.”

“No, we
don't
!” Annie shouted at her. “You don't know what it's like. I can't
see
you! I can't see anything …I don't know where I am … everything is gray and black …I want to die….” She sobbed in her sisters' arms for hours. They took turns consoling her, and finally a nurse came in and offered her some mild sedation. Sabrina nodded—it seemed like an excellent idea. This was just too much for her. Losing their mother and finding out she was blind, all within a week. After listening to Annie cry for three and a half hours, she felt as though she needed sedation herself.

Annie lay in Tammy's arms, crying, as they gave her the shot. Twenty minutes later she was nodding off, and the nurse said she would sleep for several hours. They could leave and come back, and on tiptoe they left her room, and said nothing until they reached the parking lot. They all looked as though they had been beaten up.

Tammy lit a cigarette with shaking fingers, and sat down on a large rock next to their father's car. “Jesus, I need a drink, a shot, heroin, a martini … the poor kid …” It had been awful.

“I think I'm going to throw up,” Candy announced as she sat down next to her, took one of Tammy's cigarettes, and lit it, while Sabrina looked for the car keys. She felt as shaken as the others.

“Just don't throw up on me,” Tammy warned her. “I couldn't take it.”

The doctor had given Sabrina the name of a psychiatrist earlier that week, who specialized in working with blind people. After what they had just been through, Sabrina was going to call her.

She finally got the car keys out of her bag, and opened the doors. The others got in, and looked as though they'd been through the wars. It was two o'clock, and they had been with her for four hours, three and a half since she heard the news. Annie had sobbed nonstop. The three sisters didn't even have the strength to talk to each other on the way home. Tammy said she wanted to go back at four, in case she woke up then from the sedation. Sabrina said she'd go with her, and Candy said she wouldn't.

“I can't stand it. It's too awful. Why can't they give her someone else's eyes?”

“They just can't, there's too much damage. We have to help her make the best of it,” Sabrina said, but when they got home, they all crawled out of the car, and walked into the kitchen, looking totally disheartened. Their father and Chris were just finishing lunch. It was easy to see how the morning had gone. Both men looked stricken when they saw the three sisters' faces.

“How was it?” Chris asked softly.

“How did she take it?” her father asked them. He felt like a coward now for not going with them. He knew Jane would have, but she was their mother and so much better at that kind of thing than he was. He would have felt like a bull in a china shop at her bedside. And Tammy and Sabrina reassured him that it wouldn't have made a difference. She wanted her eyes, not her father.

“Can she see anything?” Chris asked, as he put a plate of sandwiches on the kitchen table, but none of them could eat. No one was hungry. Candy disappeared and came back, said she had thrown up and felt better. It had been an awful morning for everyone, but especially excruciating for Annie.