Free Iron Heart: The True Story of How I Came Back From the Dead by Brian Boyle, Bill Katovsky Page B

about my Frankenstein torso.
    Victoria says that they have a surprise. I can have my first drink. She hands me a small red plastic cup of ice and gives me instructions. I can chew ice but I should let the ice melt so that my mouth will eventually create a swallowing reflex. If I’m able to accomplish this, then I can move onto a sip of water.
    I look at the red cup in my hands. I’ve dreamt of this moment. I bring the cup closer to my lips and feel the cool vapors rising up and caressing my chin, mouth, and cheeks. I can’t wait any longer. I slowly bring the cup up, letting the small chips of ice slide into my mouth. My teeth instantly feel a sharp tingling sensitivity to the coldness, but I slowly adjust to it as I swish the ice around my mouth with my tongue. After several seconds, the ice starts to break down into a cold liquid. I feel the tiny muscles in my throat cooperate as the liquid slides down my dry, sandpapery throat. I feel the chill in my stomach. I take another mouthful of ice, a little more this time.
    Victoria hands me another red cup, but this one is half-full of water. She repeats the instructions—allow the water to float in my mouth until I feel the need to swallow it. I bring the cup to my lips, pour some of the clear, delicious substance into my mouth, then swallow it. Gaining confidence, I swig down the rest of it in a quick frenzy.
    I’m now lusting for some Mountain Dew. My dad seeks permission from Victoria. She nods yes. He unscrews the top and places the plastic bottle in my hands. Without even thinking about how this would be any different from water, I gulp down the Dew. Instantly, I feel an intense burning sensation in my mouth as if I’ve just drunk a cup of sulfuric acid. That hurts! The burning travels all the way down to my fragile stomach, where it’s bubbling. Even with all this discomfort, I continue to drink the painful nectar until the bottle is nearly empty. Oh man, that was delicious in its own crazy way.
    The next test is eating Jell-O. Victoria tells me to do the same thing I did with the ice, but instead of just letting it dissolve in my mouth, I should try to chew it up into small slimy fragments. I dip my spoon into the gelatin and scoop out a small amount as if I am digging for gold. I bring it to my mouth and cautiously bite up and down. I don’t know if it’s really doing anything, but I can tell that it has changed its form in my mouth. I nervously swallow, feeling the soft gooey clumps slide down into my stomach, mixing with the fizzing Mountain Dew. Victoria and my parents start clapping. They tell me that I did a good job. I have just passed my swallowing test with flying colors. I’ve taken another small step into reentering the realm of normalcy.
    From now on, I will no longer receive nutrition from the feeding tube in my nose. Instead I will be eating “soft” food, which will be first mixed in a blender before being served. I’ll be like a baby bird receiving food that’s already mashed up by its mother. Nonetheless, I’m thrilled, because anything is better than being fed through a tube in your nose. The only bad news is that the feeding tube must be taken out. And yes, Victoria tells me, without anesthesia.
    Victoria leaves the room, and I’m alone with my parents. My mom opens up the window blinds behind my bed to let in sunlight. Ellen is on. I go back and forth between watching the show and demonstrating to them the progress that I have made with my physical therapy: lifting legs and right arm, wiggling fingers, pushing my feet forward and backward.
    They seem happy, content watching me. Then selfishly, I drop the bombshell.
    “Exactly just what happened to me?”
    They are startled by my question. Mom shoots a nervous glance toward Dad to gauge his reaction. He pauses for several moments, then says in a measured, cautious voice, “Well, son. You were in a really bad car accident.”
    “Yeah I know that, but what really happened? I want to know