by Dale Mayer
“That’s a trust issue. You must get to where you can do this without having to consciously think about it. But imagine if you spent your whole life leaning to the right, even when you’re sitting in bed and propped up. Imagine what happens to the muscles on the right and to the muscles on the left.”
Cole winced. “Yeah, not a pretty picture. I used to do a lot of bodybuilding,” he said. “It was hard to get the two sides to match.”
“Obviously you’re right-handed, so a lot of work had to be done to balance out the left side.”
“Right. So, is it a mental impression that I’m not secure or am I really not getting it?”
“It’s both. Your perception is of having an injured left side, and you don’t trust it can hold you. That’s what we’ll work on.” Shane put down the mirror.
“It’s a bit of a relief,” Cole said, “because it’s quite a shock to see how much I’m protecting that side.”
“That’s why I want you to do this, starting today, for ten minutes of every hour that you can.” He looked at his watch. “Over the next five hours or so, sit in this ‘uncomfortable’ awareness position for ten minutes of every sixty. Then go back to what you were doing. You must retrain your body to understand this current position is natural and what you’ve been doing before is not natural. But you can’t do it all at once. It becomes easier and easier as we slowly build up the muscles on the left side.”
He made a few more notations on his tablet, and then he said, “I’ll be back to see you in the morning. Have a good afternoon.”
As soon as he had left, Cole shifted into his usual position. “That was at least ten minutes,” he muttered.
Yet, he could see what Shane was saying. It was a little disconcerting. Why the hell had nobody mentioned that before?
Cole had known he had to get back here. These people would help him. He felt like the last place had been overrun with underpaid staff. Although the hospital people had cared, they had so many to tend to that damned little got done. Cole didn’t want to be mollycoddled. He didn’t want somebody to pat his hand and sympathize. He wanted somebody to kick his ass and push him to step forward.
Like what Brock had. That’s what Cole wanted for himself. He wasn’t sure that Shane would be that kick-ass guy, but he had already noticed something that nobody else had while Cole had been hospitalized.
And that was a damned good thing.
Chapter 5
When her day was done, Sandra got yet another cup of coffee. She should probably cut back—just as she and Sidney had said all too often—but for whatever reason, she drank more caffeine than she liked. Habits were hard to break. Instilling new healthier ones were more difficult. Case in point, she had yet to address her fear of water, or maybe it was a lack of confidence in her swimming skills, even though her on-site apartment was only steps away from the magnificent Hathaway House pool. Shaking her head, she took the stairs to see Stan and the animals. She’d heard talk of a large Angora rabbit but didn’t know if it was still here.
Besides, she hadn’t been to the vet clinic for a couple days. She felt better when she visited on a regular basis. There was always a dog or a cat that needed a cuddle.
Nobody was at the front desk, and nobody was in the waiting room. She frowned and checked her watch. Normally Stan was still here. Sure enough, the door opened then and Stan walked out. He took one look at her and smiled. “Hi, Sandra. How are you doing?”
“I was feeling a little on the blue side, and I hoped to hug an animal …” she said, her voice trailing off.
He opened his eyes wide and smiled. “How about me? Will I do?”
With a big grin, she stepped into his arms and hugged him. Stan was like a resident big brother. Although he was only fifteen years her senior, there was nothing other than friendship between them. As far as she knew, he had never had a relationship with any of the staff here either. She wasn’t sure how she felt about relationships between staff, but she figured that if the two people were consenting adults, it was nobody else’s business. However, if it did affect the work environment, then that would change things.
“There was talk of a very large rabbit?”
“Did Cole tell you about that? Yes, that was It. He’s back home already, but I’m sure you can visit the ones still here.”
She brightened. “That would be nice.”
He led the way into the back, and thankfully, most of the surgical recovery cages were empty.
She glanced at the sedated dog with tubes running in and out.
Stan noticed where her attention was and nodded. “That’s Jojoba. He had a tumor on his hip I removed. He’ll be fine though.” Stan walked to the rear wall where the cats were. A big mama cat and her kittens were in the same cage.
“Oh, my gosh! They’re so tiny.”
“She was brought in pregnant. So now we’ll keep her until the kittens can be weaned. Although, if I find a foster family, that would be good too. We’ll find homes for the babies and fix the mom, so she doesn’t end up in this situation again.”
Sandra didn’t want to take one of the babies from its mother. She glanced around. “No other dogs or anything?” She shook her head and smiled. “Quiet day for you.”
“Exactly. Have you been out to see Molly lately?”
She shook her head. “Molly? Not sure I’ve met her at all,” she confessed.
Stan laughed. “Let me show you.” He took her through the back way and out the side door. He pointed. “There.” The little filly raced up and down the meadow near the two older mares. “Molly’s the baby.”
They walked to the fence, and all three horses came over right away. Stan kept a plastic container at the corner. He opened it up and pulled out a handful of grain, which he gave, open-handed, to the older two. Sandra did the same for the baby.
“Oh, my God, she’s adorable.”
“Innocent and fresh, with the whole world ahead of her. Sometimes we have to remember that.”
“I know. It’s easy to forget that, isn’t it?”
“Sounds like you’ve had a rough day.”
“And yet, I didn’t. I do seem to be in a down mood though.”
Stan nodded. “Sometimes we don’t need a reason. Sometimes the color of the sky is just gray, not blue. Sometimes there is no laughter, just talking. That doesn’t make for a bad day. It just makes it another day.”
She grinned. “Words to live by.”
Cole stared at the four walls of his room. Overall, his day had been good. However, keeping his energy expenditures to a reasonable amount, he still wanted to get out for a bit. He wasn’t sure how anybody would react to that, but if he took his wheelchair, maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. He was tired, but it was doable. Even to sit by the pool would be nice. It was hot today, and the air-conditioning blew through the room, but it gave him a closed-in feeling. He wanted sunshine and warmth, but at the same time, he didn’t want to be in the killing heat. The pool might be a good answer. He’d love to get in the water, but he knew he wasn’t allowed to do that yet. And he sure as hell wouldn’t go against anybody’s wishes. This time.
Maybe Brock was up for it. Cole sent his buddy a text message. Hey, interested in going to the pool or sitting outside somewhere?
Absolutely. Be there in five.
Perfect. Even if they just grabbed a cup of coffee. Although, he seemed to be slugging that back pretty hard. He was sure other choices were available at the coffee bar or in the buffet line.
It wasn’t long before he heard Brock’s footsteps coming down the hallway. Cole managed to sit up, and using the headboard as he had done before, he sat in the wheelchair. He smiled at his buddy. “I hope you don’t mind. The walls were closing in on me.”
Brock nodded in understanding. “They do that real fast here.” He stepped up behind Cole’s chair. “Where would you like to go?”
“I was thinking the pool area because it would be cooler but still out in fresh air.”
“That’s po
ssible. But there are also the animals. How about we take a walk around and look at the horses first?”
“You sure you’re okay pushing me?”
“Hell, yeah. Sidney’s got me on some pretty awesome strength-building exercises. My back and shoulders are stronger and better than they’ve ever been before,” Brock said. “I can’t wait for you to feel the same thing, buddy.”
Cole wanted the same damn thing so bad. He also knew that going too far, too fast … “I do too. All in good time.”
“That’s the attitude.” Before long, Brock had them downstairs and outside in the fresh air.
Cole tilted his face to the waning sun. “It’s beautiful here. I haven’t seen so much green grass in one place.”
“Something to do with the underground springs. Water in Texas is worth its weight in gold. Hathaway seriously has an incredible irrigation system, but I imagine—in the hot, dry season—it can get pretty tough to water all this.”
“Isn’t that the truth? Still it looks like pictures of Kentucky.”
“Agreed.” They wandered the grounds in silence.
The majority of the grounds surrounding Hathaway was wheelchair accessible, to make it possible for all the patients to get around outside easily. As they walked to one of the pastures, a goat ran alongside them and jumped on the top railing of the fence.
“I gather they’re not trying to keep them inside,” Cole said.
Brock laughed. “Not sure you can.”
Cole studied the goat—it was very small, almost pygmy size. But it was friendly. It jumped off and came to visit. Cole reached down and gave it a good scratch behind its ears. The goat jumped up and landed in his lap. Cole laughed.
“Is that okay, or do you want me to take him off?”
Cole laughed again. “Nah, it’s good. I don’t remember the last time I had a goat in my lap.”
He wrapped his arms around the fuzzy creature and gave it a hug. The goat baaed at him and jumped off.
“I guess he didn’t like the hug much.”
That little touch of nature in its purest form put a lightness of spirit back into Cole he hadn’t even realized he lacked. He and Brock stayed and watched the goat as it danced and pranced and jumped along the fence. A moment later, an older goat called to it, and the baby took off.
“Was that a kid or a pygmy?”
“I have no idea,” Brock replied. “All I can tell you is that it’s very active.” He grabbed Cole’s wheelchair and pushed forward again. “There are the horses.” He pointed out the big ones, and then Cole saw the little one.
“Hey, another baby.”
“Yeah, that’s Molly.”
Cole listened as Brock told him what he knew about the little filly’s history.
“They tried to keep her as a pet? Why would people do that?” He stared off at the obviously contented horse, eating grass and sticking close to the two bigger horses. “And the other horses?”
“One is Maggie, who’s been here since forever. She was a rescue. I’m not sure about the history of the other one,” Brock admitted. “Dani also has her own horses here. Midnight’s on the far side by Dani’s house, and I think she has another one also. Of course they are all hers essentially.”
“There’s a house on the property?” Cole twisted to look but couldn’t see anything.
“Check the tree line and look closely.” Brock pointed to the left.
Then Cole caught sight of it. A beautiful house nestled, almost hidden, in the trees. “Wow, that’s nice. Is that hers?”
“Her father owns all this. He built this business up from nothing. The Major had a lot of adapting issues from his own military injuries when he bought this place, and he and his daughter built it up as much for his own project as to help others. Have you met the Major yet?”
Cole shook his head. “Not that I remember.” He cast his mind back, and then an older man with white hair, a white beard and a big smile came to mind. He’d gone from table to table in the dining room, busy talking with everybody. “I think I know who you’re talking about though.”
“If you haven’t met him yet, you will soon. The Major delights in getting to know everybody here. This place is more about family than being an institution.”
Cole could see that. “If he’s beaten back his own demons, then he’ll have a good idea what everybody else is going through. It’s not easy sympathizing or empathizing when you can’t relate to how others are suffering.”
“I believe he understands more than most,” Brock said. “I haven’t spoken to Dani about the Major’s recovery, but Sidney’s told me some. They had quite a struggle with his health for years. He was depressed to the point of being suicidal at one point in his life. He had PTSD plus physical injuries that held him back from living a full life. But if you look at him now, he’s a completely different man.”
Words to live by. A completely different man. That was Brock too. Cole remembered seeing Brock in the hospital after his injuries and thinking how terrible his friend looked. It wasn’t just physical—it was emotional and mental too. Now the buddy pushing him around this place was a whole new man all over again. That was Cole’s goal in life—to be a whole new man because the old one sucked.
Chapter 6
Sandra woke the next morning feeling more at peace than she had for eons. For the first time in a long time she hadn’t woken up in tears. Weeks had gone by since Cole’s arrival, and he’d settled in well. The only recurring problematic factor showing up in the team’s weekly meetings regarding Cole’s progress came from his psychiatrist and his therapist and dealt with his inability to open up. Which was a shame as any psychological findings could benefit the therapist’s ability to help Cole deal with any false beliefs that may be holding him back in reaching his goals. The psychiatrist was still looking for the root issues in Cole’s life, which his therapist would then help him deal with, but Cole avoided the trauma of his IED explosion, even more earlier events in his life, only wanting to face forward with no resolution of past dramas. The psychiatrist was not giving up and kept prodding each week.
As for Cole’s therapist, Kimmy was happy to see Cole’s forward-facing mentality, yet Cole was unfocused as to his second career. In one of the team meetings, Sandra had asked if maybe Cole would respond better to an informal conversation, like with her, and how he might feel pressured with these recurring themes when seeing his psychiatrist and his therapist. The two doctors conferred and agreed. Sandra would pass on any further insights she discovered.
Except for the two mental blocks noted at several team meetings, Cole was making good overall progress, not overextending himself physically, yet following his doctor’s orders, taking his medications as prescribed. Sandra and Cole were in a routine now, and that was a good thing for everyone. In a place like this, routine kept everything moving forward.
She was still hesitant around Cole, but a bond was forming, and that was the way she liked it. It was nice to become friends with these people when they were here. However, on a day like today, it was harder. Isaac would leave this morning. She was so happy for him, but still it would be tough because she probably would never see him again.
It happened that way most of the time. Patients talked about keeping in touch, but in her experience, it was rare—the odd email, maybe a thank-you card. But as people integrated back into their real, normal lives, the stages of their recovery faded into insignificance. Maybe it was supposed to be that way, but it left her without that sense of any long-term continuity of that friendship, and she was sad for that reason.
She waited at the front entrance. Isaac’s cab ride was here, waiting for him to make the final walk out the front door. He would leave under his own steam, walking on his own two feet and carrying his own two bags. If there was ever a change, it was this man who had shown up in such bad shape. This was one of the biggest and most startling transformations she had witnessed.
She stood and watched as Isaac, who’d lost both legs, walked t
oward her, a massive grin on his face. He’d have been a hell of a football player with the size of his chest and shoulders. He had taken his injuries hard, but unlike so many others, he hadn’t gotten depressed—he’d gotten even. He was the best he could be right now. He even walked normally. It would take a skilled medical professional to spot the shifts of his prosthetic limbs. Isaac was doing so well.
When he saw her, his grin widened. “I was hoping to see you before I left.”
“I wouldn’t let you go without saying goodbye,” she said, and damn it if there weren’t tears choking her throat.
He put down his bags, opened his arms and gave her a gentle hug.
That was the thing about Isaac. He was a giant physically, but his personality had been that of a teddy bear. They would miss him. She stepped back to wipe the tears from her face. “It was a delight working with you, and you will be missed.”
He smiled. “Don’t take it personally, but I hope I never come back.”
She laughed. “And we hope we never see you as a patient here again.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll stay in touch.”
She smiled because she’d heard it all before. He said goodbye to several of the other residents, and then he walked out into the sunshine. His sister wanted to pick him up, but he had said no. He would start his new life the way he intended to go on—independent. As the taxi drove away, she turned toward the hallway, but she still wiped away her tears.
“You okay?” Cole asked as he appeared in front of her.
She stopped in her tracks. She smiled at him, maybe for the first time with a free, open, happy smile. “I’m sad and happy at the same time. Someone who was here for months and who had an incredibly difficult recovery just walked out of here carrying his own bags. He’s flying out to California on his own. He’ll make it.”
Cole looked at her and then smiled. “I guess that’s the ultimate joy for you.”
“Joy and sadness. We’re a part of the stage of their lives that they don’t ever want to remember. So we all …” She shrugged and took a deep breath. “In most cases we are forgotten.” She continued past him and then froze. “Oh, my gosh. You’re not in the wheelchair.”