If Daniel had freaking legs that worked, he would have gotten up to take a piss hours ago. Instead, he’d laid there with a bladder about to burst, in a futile attempt to get back to sleep. While the accident had sucked most of his dignity from him. Having to pull his emergency cord because he’d pissed himself, wasn’t a place Daniel was prepared to go. He squinted at the clock on the nightstand across from his bed and rubbed his groggy eyes. “Holy hell,” he croaked out as a five came into focus.
He shoved his warm covers aside and groaned as the chilly air crept across his bare skin. Grabbing the strap he’d tied to the end of his bed, he pulled his torso upright. When he got himself into the correct sitting position, he braced himself with his arms and scooted his butt close to the edge of the bed. Then with both hands he picked his right leg up, pushed the dead limb over the side of the bed, and repeated the sequence for the left. He wiggled a bit more to get his body at the correct angle and put his right hand on the seat of his wheelchair to begin his transfer. With one quick motion he pushed himself up and over and plopped his bare bottom down hard into the chair. The impact hurt like hell and he bit his lower lip waiting for the pain to subside.
Before he wheeled himself to the toilet, Daniel glanced around his room at Haven Hills Rehabilitation Center. It was little more than a glorified hospital room with sterile walls, his bed, and a few pieces of furniture. It even had a similar disinfectant smell. He didn’t mind that it was small, or having noises outside his door at all hours of the day and night. For the last six months he’d called it home and though the doctors said he was ready to leave, if it were up to him he would stay.
After a successful pee, he got back into bed, hoping to get a little more shut eye. Same results. His legs might be useless, but his mind wasn’t, and swirled with fears of how he was going to survive when he left this place latter that day. When seven AM rolled around and the morning light began leaking past his tightly closed window shades, he decided to get up. For the second time.
Message you have. Answer or answer not. There is no try.
He and his girlfriend Debbie were both huge star war fans and had set their text message rings to the voice of Yoda, but she wasn’t a morning person, so why in hell would she be texting him so damn early? A chill ran through his body. She hadn’t kissed him once since the accident, barely even looked at him anymore. Though he’d been expecting it for months, was this the end, was she finally dumping him? He flipped on the lights and blinked a few times as his burning eyes adjusted.
His phone lay on the dresser across the room where he’d left it the night before, but thanks to modern technology he didn’t have to drag his useless body out of bed to use it.
“Hey Siri, read my message.”
I’m so sorry, Daniel. His gut ached as her words paraded through his mind. He deserved more than a dear John text from the girl he’d been with since his junior year of high school. Even without listening to the rest of the message, he knew what she said.
I’m so sorry Daniel.
Next would come the proverbial, it’s not you, it’s me. Then the, we’ve grown apart crap. We can still be friends would be the kicker. All would be her stilted attempt to perhaps soften the blow. He could read between the lines though, and knew exactly what she really meant.
I’m so sorry Daniel, but I can barely stand to look at you anymore. I also don’t want to spend the rest of my life having to take care of a cripple
The doctor’s had prescribed medication to combat his depression, but he didn’t like having his mind all fogged up and spit the pill out when the nurses left. Without the medication he had to fight hard everyday to keep himself from becoming a blubbering fool. For awhile, he thought Debbie had come to except the way he was and their relationship would survive. Her coldness toward him of late told him otherwise.
Voices outside his door told him he wasn’t alone, so he turned his face into his pillow to muffle his sobs. Soon one of the nurses would waltz into his room without permission, a practice he despised, to give him his meds and he had no intention of letting anyone know how weak he’d become.