I know I said short updates, but this has been distracting me all day at work and I needed to get it written. Especially once I came up with the end of this section
Ryan slept briefly while Colette sat watch. He ate a bit of lunch, only enjoying the tea, but when asked if he could taste it, he replied that he couldn't but it felt good going down. Dr. Reilly returned to conduct a neurological examination, which showed that, while Ryan was able to remember his and his family's personal data, and everything up to the end of the ABC tour with Neil, he still had no memory of the few weeks before his accident, and did not know the current day, date or month. His muscles were weak, and it was unclear whether there were some small issues with coordination or if it simply appeared that way due to his weakness. Dr. Reilly was initially a bit concerned that Ryan smiled at him with only the right side of his mouth - but after the family stopped laughing, they explained that Ryan had been doing that for years and it was something of a trademark of his. Overall, he was doing very well, and Dr. Reilly cleared him to be moved out of ICU to the neurosurgery recovery unit.
The physical therapist arrived for his assessment. He tested Ryan's strength more thoroughly, and then helped him to sit on the edge of the bed with his feet hanging down. Ryan was able to stay there for about 5 minutes before becoming dizzy and needing to rest. The PT explained that this was because his heart wasn't used to having to pump blood up and down hill since he'd been lying flat for so long, and it would take some time before he adjusted to the position change. After a brief rest, he had Ryan assist with getting himself from lying down to sitting, leading Ryan to mutter "Slave driver" under his breath. The PT only laughed, saying, "I've heard much worse. I think we PTs get the most abuse of any of the therapists! There are more nicknames and definitions for the letters PT than I care to tell you!" This time, when Ryan started to get dizzy, the therapist encouraged him to swing his legs and move his feet to help pump the blood back uphill - but Ryan had had enough and shoved him away from where he sat beside Ryan. Or at least that was the intent. The only effect was that Ryan knocked himself over. That was the end of his temper, and he levered himself up on one arm, grabbed the nearest thing he could reach, a foam cup of ice water, and threw it as hard as he could across the room, then collapsed back on the bed and curled up in a ball, shaking. The PT said gently, "I see you've got a good arm. Don't worry, in a few days we'll have you up playing ball." He nodded to Mr. Kelly, who had been watching the session and left the room. Mr. Kelly came over to sit by his son and placed a hand on his back, rubbing gently.
"Da", Ryan said.
"Yes, son?"
"Da, I hate this." Ryan's voice was shaky. "I'm so weak, and I can't even control myself. I feel like I'm not me anymore." As he looked at his father, tears were running down his cheeks.
His father thought for a moment, and then the perfect response came to him. "Patience, young Jedi." Ryan gave him a shaky grin. "You've been awake less than 24 hours. Give yourself a chance."
As Ryan had not been able to sit up long enough to have a wheelchair ride to his new room, he was moved there by the simple expedient of unlocking the brakes on his hospital bed and rolling the whole thing to the new unit. This was a novel enough concept that Ryan perked up a bit during the trip. Dinner was a quiet affair; the family brought theirs up from the cafeteria to eat with Ryan. After dinner, Ryan brought up the subject they'd all been avoiding, nervous as to how he would react.
"I'm surprised none of the guys have been here to see me yet," Ryan said.
"They would be if they could, Ryan, you know that," said Mrs. Kelly.
"What's keeping them?" Ryan said. "They've got to know I want to see them. Unless..."
"Unless what?" Raymond asked.
"Unless they gave up," Ryan muttered.
"Now come on, " Raymond said. "You know they wouldn't give up on you. In fact they were here, night and day, round the clock for 2 straight weeks! And most of it singing to you, and then going home and singing more to make recordings for you for when they couldn't be here."
"Why were they singing? And where are these recordings?"
"The recordings are in your Ipod. " Raymond was hoping this had distracted Ryan from the reason why no one was here. "Keith started singing one time when your heart rate went nuts - you know how he does when he gets worried - and you settled back down without the doctors having to do anything. Happened a couple of more times and they realized that it was the singing that was keeping you stable. After that everybody sang as much as they could when they were here."
"So why aren't they here to talk to me now that I'm awake? Afraid I'm going to be too different? Not myself anymore?"
"No, that's not it," said Mr. Kelly, realizing that they were going to have to do this. "Ryan, you fell on June 3rd. Do you remember how long we said you were unconscious?"
"Yeah, 3 weeks...Wait." Ryan thought hard for a minute. His face fell. "They're in Atlantic City, aren't they? Performing without me! Like I said, they left me behind!"
"Ryan, no!" said his mother. "They didn't want to leave you behind, they argued with Sharon about it, but they had to fulfill the contract. That's why they made the recordings, so they could still be here for you! They call every day to see how you are!"
"Yeah, right. How can they fulfill the contract anyway, it's for 5 singers! Without me, there's only 4!"
This was the part they were really nervous about. Mr. Kelly said, "Ryan, I know you don't remember, but right after you and Neil got home, Sharon called you to tell you that she's hired another lad, so there would be 6 of you for Mythology. Young fellow by the name of Colm Keegan. "
"So? They're not doing Mythology in AC!"
"Ryan , Sharon called Colm in to act as your understudy for Atlantic City."
"She replaced me already? Didn't even give me a chance, did she? I suppose after all the mess last summer, and now this, I'm too much trouble to keep on." Ryan's voice was angry, but they could see the tears. "Now I'm really not me anymore," he muttered and turned away from them, curling up into a ball again. They looked helplessly at him, unable to figure out how to explain to his confused brain that he was completely wrong.
Suddenly, Raymond got up and started out of the room. "Ray, where..?" his mother started to ask.
"To call Sharon. Maybe she can talk some sense into him, he's used to listening to her."
"They're probably in the middle of the afternoon show!"
"I don't care. If we don't get this straightened out, he might have survived the broken head, but I don't know if he can survive the broken heart as well."
-----Meanwhile, in Atlantic City----
Celtic Thunder was in the middle of finishing the show with Ireland's Call. Sharon stood backstage, watching them. Colm had really stepped up amazingly well; there'd been a few mistakes but given how little time he'd had to prepare, he'd done nothing less than amazing.
Suddenly her phone went off in her pocket. Pulling it out, she recognized Raymond's number. Ordinarily, she wouldn't have answered backstage, but this was a special situation.
Keith happened to be facing that direction and his sharp eyes caught the movement backstage. He saw Sharon raise the phone to her ear, then saw her face fall. She turned away, raising her hand to her head, and quickly walked away from the stage. Bringing his attention back to the stage with difficulty, he saw Colm raise an eyebrow. "Ryan" he mouthed as he turned in the choreography. Using the subtle language of glances and tiny gestures they'd perfected over years of performing together, Keith was able to pass the message that something was wrong down the line of singers, so that by the end of the song all the singers and half the band knew that something was up, but the audience was none the wiser. As they all tumbled backstage, he was surrounded.
"What's wrong?" "What happened?"
"Sharon took a call backstage," he said. A few jaws dropped. "Ryan?" someone said hopefully.
"If it was, it wasn't good news," Keith said grimly. "She looked like she might have been crying when she left the stage."
"Dear Lord, no," said Neil quietly. "He was doing better! He was awake!"
George stepped in. "Let's not jump to conclusions," he said. "Pass the word to everyone, crew and all, and get them together here. If something has happened, better if we're all together to hear it."
When Sharon returned to the stage a few minutes later, she found a sea of faces anxiously watching her. She was smiling, but tears were running down her face at the same time. Her first words, however, eased their worries a bit.
"Ok," she said, trying to look stern, "Who was looking offstage instead of paying attention to what they were doing?"
"Me," Keith said.
"I should have known," she said with a watery smile. "It would be you. Well, I won't keep you in suspense." She sighed. "As you've probably guessed, the call was about Ryan. Physically, he's fine - out of intensive care, eating, starting therapies. His memory for the few weeks right before he fell still hasn't returned. He's had a rough day today, lots of things to cope with and lots of stress. He suddenly realized tonight that none of you are there. Somehow, he took that, and the fact that he realized that we're here performing without him, and the memory of having to leave us last summer, and the news that Colm was acting as his understudy, to mean that we'd left him behind and I'd permanently replaced him with Colm."
"No!" "How can he think that?" "He knows we'd never leave him behind!"
"We all know that," Sharon said, "but Ryan can't help the fact that his brain is making up things to fill in the gaps he can't remember. To him, right now, since he doesn't remember knowing that Colm was on board BEFORE he was hurt, it's logical that Colm is his replacement rather than his understudy."
"Surely you didn't let him keep believing that?" Emmet said.
"Of course not! I told him directly - yes , I spoke to him - that he has a permanent place with Celtic Thunder, that his space is here whenever he is ready to come back, and that he can come back in whatever capacity he is able to, whenever he is able to."
"Did that ease his mind?" Nicole asked.
"It seems to have," Sharon replied. "But as I said, it's been a hard day for him; he's lost his temper a number of times, as Neil told us he did last night. He's even been throwing things. He's feeling as though he's not himself anymore, and thinking he'd lost his spot with us just made that worse."
Half the cast and crew were crying now, holding each other. George suddenly said, "Sharon, can you get Ryan back on the phone?"
"Probably, why?"
"I think he needs to hear it from all of us."
Sharon smiled, tears falling again. "George, that's a fantastic idea. Let me call Raymond back, and I'll get him to put us on speakerphone."
"All right, " George said, "we need to get this organized. Oh, no you don't, lad," he said, hooking a long arm back to catch Colm who was trying to sneak out off the stage, feeling like he didn't belong in this.
"George, I doubt he's going to want to hear from me right now," Colm said.
"Sharon!" George called. "Did Ryan say anything about Colm specifically?"
"Wished him the best of luck is all, even when he was angry at me."
"There, you see," George turned to Colm. "You may not have met Ryan yet, but you're one of his brothers now, too, and you will be here with us. Now, everybody, this is what we'll do when Sharon tells us everything's ready..."
A few minutes later, Sharon gave them the signal. George counted them in, and a unison chorus of "Ryan, we love you!" blew through the speakerphone to Belfast, followed by a variety of "We miss you!" and "Get well soon" and "We can't wait to see you" until George cut them off. Then they heard what they'd been waiting for. Ryan's voice, thick with emotion, but sounding very much himself. "I miss you all, so much. I'll be back, I promise - I'm not letting you do Mythology without me!"
Colm surprised himself, and everyone else, by suddenly calling out, "Ryan, this is Colm! You'd better come back soon, singing those high parts of yours is going to kill me!" Over the ensuing laughter, Keith topped it all off in his own unique fashion. His clear voice rising over the laughter and a gleam of mischief in his eyes, he called out, "Aye, if we have to keep yanking the poor lad's shorts up around his ears every night, we'll do him a permanent mischief!" Which resulted in everybody on both sides of the ocean falling into hysterical laughter, Ryan included.