Nine

As promised crutches are brought to me. I’m excited and can’t wait until its time to get off this bed and try them. I know how to handle them, but they haven’t really let me do anything. All cooped up here, the pain is my only company and there so much the meds can do. Of course I have been lying about the pain to avoid taking too much pain meds, they make me woozy and unfocused and so sensitive to food. I feel like I need to be constantly alert and ready. I do my exercises the moment the sun rises, follow with the doctors’ orders but I’m about to lose my mind just looking at the same four walls.

Going to the bathroom is humiliating enough.

By ten in the morning, I’m dressed and ready for torture. Eyeing the door waiting for whoever is coming to help test my strength has all jumpy. I’m about to give my first steps in two weeks but as soon as he walks in all that goes away.

“Come on.”

Enthusiasm is not his middle name, I can tell.

“Why does it have to be you?” I’m not getting