The Gift

Once again zoning out, I doze off. A knock on the partially open door awakens me at some point later. It’s the person from physical therapy, or PT.

I hope he say my left limb jump as he startled me. Maybe there’s a way to use that to my advantage in therapy.

He starts by seeing what I can do, then goes through a set of exercises with both my arm and leg, taking care to keep me covered as I had nothing on from the waist down but socks, due to the stupid catheter, and the door was open. At least he was considerate.

After he finished, he had me go through the squeeze and pull/push test again to see if there was any change.

He said it seems that there was some improvement, which is a good sign. Covering my leg back up, he tells me someone will be back tomorrow and do the exercises twice a day.

“Fine,” I say. Being polite I add, “Thank you.”

“No problem. Take care,” he says before he leaves.

Still tired but not sleepy, I manage to pull the table from the foot of my bed closer to me until I could reach it.

Pushing the lever, I slide the top back, exposing the tray beneath and my phone. I pull it out and close the table up, then turn on my phone.

It only takes a minute to realize how much I miss having two hands. Sine I have minimal usage of my left hand and arm, I have a bright idea. I reach across and grab my left arm, wincing in pain as my right-side protests at the direction and amount of flexing it does, and pull it up onto the table.

With my hand up and open, I put the phone into it and curl my fingers around it. Good. Now I can use my phone almost normally.

I consider calling mom, but I don’t want to worry her and can’t think of anyone else to call right now, so I decide to log into my Spotify account and stream some music.

Normally I opt for U2, but today I decide to go country. Going through the list of top groups I find The Band Perry. I set their first album, a self-titled one it appears, to stream.

After listening to their third song called If I Die Young, I have to stop. The song came too close to home. It’s about a girl who dies before her time.

There is one verse that goes in part:

I’ve never known the lovin’ of a man

But it sure felt good when he was

Holdin’ my hand

There’s a boy here in town who says

He’ll love me forever

I realize that Ben hasn’t said he’ll love me forever, or actually at all, but that wasn’t the point. Him just holding my hand had a special feel.

Feeling depressed, I change the app to just pick random music and close my eyes.

My doctor comes in and checks me over, as I let him do what he needs to do, mostly without needing my input or involvement, other than just lying there.

Next comes the neurologist, and he does require me to be involved, so I humor him, letting him poke and prod me, asking if I feel things: sharp, dull, hot, and cold.

He tells me he’s already seeing improvement in my condition, so keep up the work and the outlook, then he leaves.

Dinner comes and I nibble, not really hungry. My nurse comes in to get my tray and brings me ice cream, saying, “Something special from the sixth-floor nurses.”

Not one to deny gluttony, I eat it and them text my mom to tell her that I’m doing okay and that I love her and dad. I get a text back telling me they will both be here tomorrow and they both send their love.

Mass texting, I send a text to both Anna and Holly, telling them good night and thanks for today. Both respond with a good night and take care until tomorrow when they’ll be back.

I turn my phone off and put it back in the table’s tray. It was still early considering everything, so I reach over for the hospital phone a hit zero. The operator answers and I ask for room 205.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” the operator asks.

“Two. Zero. Five,” I say slowly over my thumping heart. I’m feeling stupid and now as the phone rings, I can’t carry on a conversation when no one can understand me.

The phone is answered on the first ring and a familiar voice says, “Hello?”

I whisper, “Good night,” and hang up. I’m not even sure if I had actually made a sound.

I no more get the phone set down when it rings, startling me and I jump. All four limbs. Damn it, why do they work when I get scared and not all the time?

Picking up the phone I say, “’lo?”

“I know it was you,” Ben says.

Guess I did say that out loud. “Yeah,” I admit.

“They won’t let me see you,” he says.

“You’r’ blind dummy,” I say slowly.

“You know what I mean,” he says, upset. “I didn’t see it happening, I’m sorry.”

“Again, blind, dummy.”

“You don’t understand. I… know things. I don’t want to explain over the phone. As soon as I can see, err, visit you, I’ll explain.”

“My fault,” I say. “I fell. Me’ry-go-roun’ my idea, not yours.”

“Normally I’m able to protect people I care about. I don’t know why I didn’t know,” he says cryptically.

I don’t think I hard past the care about part. Tis was all confusing and taking it’s toll on me physically and emotionally, so I say, “I’ll talk to An’a t’mor’ow about you. G’night Benjamin.”

“Until we meet again Amanda,” he replies.

I sigh and hang up the phone. Now exhausted, I lower the head of my bed, close my eyes, and go to sleep.