Shattered

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Shattered Page 21

by Pamela Sparkman


  She stood up. “You can’t move them at all?” she asked, never taking her eyes off my legs.

  I shook my head. I didn’t want to say it out loud again. I looked at my doctor and I can only assume the look on my face was one of shock and horror. “What’s wrong with my legs?”

  Dr. Stewart walked to the end of the bed, pulling the covers up until my feet were exposed. He took a pen out of his shirt pocket and ran it along the bottom of one foot. I couldn’t feel it. He did the same thing to my other foot. Again, I felt nothing.

  “I should have felt that, Doc. Why can’t I feel anything?”

  “We’ll need to run some tests to see what’s going on here. It could be that you suffered a spinal cord injury and–”

  “Are you saying I’m paralyzed?”

  Dr. Stewart sighed audibly. “It appears you have some paralysis, yes. But it could be temporary. Like your brain had some swelling, your spinal cord could be injured as well, compressing the vertebrae. If that’s the case we can treat you with anti-inflammatory medication and physical therapy. I just can’t tell you anything for certain at this time. I’ll get the tests ordered as quickly as possible so we can get some answers for you.”

  “How long?” I asked. “If it is inflammation…how long can I expect to be like this?”

  “It can be a week or two, maybe longer. Injuries involving the spinal cord are complex. I can’t tell you anything definitive. I’m sorry. Let’s do the tests first.”

  After a few more minutes of medical jargon and questions from the doctor, he said, “Someone will be in shortly to take you down to x-ray.” He patted me on the shoulder once, and then left the room.

  This isn’t happening. This is not happening.

  “Could everyone just… give me a minute? I need to be alone.”

  “Joe?” Maggie queried.

  “Please,” I said, looking out the window. “I need a few minutes.” I couldn’t look at her. I couldn’t have her looking at me with pity. Not yet. I needed to wrap my mind around what this might mean for me. For us. And I couldn’t do that with her in the room.

  “Okay. I’ll be right outside this door if you need me.”

  “Come on, honey.” My mom pulled Maggie by the arm gently. “Let’s go grab a coffee.”

  “Son?”

  “Yeah, Dad?” I didn’t look at him either. I focused on the gloomy gray clouds instead.

  “Like she said, we’ll be right outside.”

  I didn’t respond. I stared at one spot on one particular cloud and thought it looked like a giant nose. Any other day, I would have laughed at that. I didn’t laugh at it today though. There was nothing funny about today. I heard the door to the room close and squeezed my eyes shut.

  I tried again to remember what happened. I got off the plane…rented a car…was driving to Maggie’s apartment. I tried to concentrate on the time I spent driving. I was happy, elated even, excited about surprising Maggie and telling her…what?

  I rubbed my hands over my face, feeling the scruffiness from days of not shaving. I opened my eyes and stared up at the ceiling, willing my mind to track back to what I was going to say to Maggie when I saw her again. Then it came back to me, I was going to tell her my life wasn’t a life without her in it. I was going to say that I needed her every single day for the rest of my life…I still do. But now, how can I ask her to be a part of this? I’m only a man from the waist up. I supposed Dr. Stewart certainly knew what he was talking about, maybe it was just swelling that would go away. How long would that take? How long would I be without the use of my legs? If I couldn’t use them, for however long, what would that do to my muscle strength? What about the bar? How could I tend bar from a wheelchair?! And, Maggie, oh my god, I was going to propose to her – what happened to the ring? My mind was going a million miles a minute; I couldn’t focus on one thought for more than a few seconds.

  “You’re overthinking it.”

  I turned my head at the sound of her voice. I recognized her. Why did I recognize her?

  “Do you remember me?” she asked, looking hopeful.

  “I’ve seen you before. Where?”

  “Here. The other night when you woke up briefly. I spoke to you. Do you remember that?”

  I had a memory of a nurse coming into my room. Maggie was asleep. I remember that. I nodded.

  “I do remember you.” I laughed humorlessly. “You have got to be the quietest nurse on the floor. I didn’t hear you come in.”

  She said sweetly, “You’re thinking too hard.”

  “So you said. How do you even know what I’m thinking about?”

  “Doesn’t matter how I know. Remember what I told you?”

  I looked up at the ceiling tiles again. “No. My brain has decided to take a vacation. I don’t remember shit.” My tone was sharp and a bit condescending. I wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone, least of all a nosy nurse. “Don’t you need to check my vitals or something? I’m sorry, I’m not in a conversational kind of mood right now.”

  “I told you everything will be as it should, not to be discouraged.”

  “Right. Well, thank you for the pep talk. I’m sure you mean well, but I’m kind of in the middle of some pretty serious self-examination, so if you don’t mind–”

  “Well, examine this,” she said interrupting me. “There’s a girl out there who hasn’t left your side. She’s cried more tears than any human being should ever have to because she loves you so much. I have no doubts about that. So if you’re thinking of making her cry more tears because you got some bad news, well…that would be pretty cruel, don’t you think?”

  “I don’t know what I’m thinking, Miss…?”

  “Faith. You can call me Faith.”

  “Okay. Faith, I don’t have a clue what I’m thinking right now, so–”

  “You were thinking that she might deserve something better. You were thinking that you can’t ask her what you wanted to ask her. Tell me I’m wrong.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Tell me I’m wrong,” she challenged.

  I blew out a defeated breath. “You’re not entirely wrong.” I made a fist and squeezed it as tightly as I could. I was beginning to feel like the world was closing in on me.

  “Don’t make the same mistakes I’ve made. Do this right. Hold on to her with all your might and don’t let go. You hold on, and when you think you can’t hold on any longer, let her hold onto you. It’s the only way. Sometimes we think we know what’s best for someone else and we make a decision not only for us, but for them out of fear. Everyone loses in that scenario, Joe.”

  I refused to look at her. I opened my fist and squeezed it tighter. Opening, closing, opening, and closing some more. I lost count how many times I did that. After a moment, I turned my head to say something to her. She wasn’t there. She had slipped out once more.

  “You could at least say goodbye,” I mumbled to myself.

  I continued to lie there, thinking about the worst case scenario, and how that would affect not only me, but the life of everyone around me. I didn’t want to be selfish. I didn’t want to feel sorry for myself. But damn it…I didn’t want to be lying in this bed either, unable to even take myself to the bathroom. I didn’t want people to see me like this. I didn’t want to be dependent on everyone else. The scope of this news was so far outside of anything I’d ever imagined for myself that I didn’t even want to contemplate it any more. It was too fucking depressing.

  I stared back outside my window. I saw cracks of light breaking through the clouds. The sun was trying to come out. I tried to latch onto happier thoughts. I really did. However, the brute force of not knowing whether or not I would regain the use of my legs was suffocating me.

  One stupid accident that I can’t even remember and I could be spending the rest of my life in a wheelchair.

  One stupid accident…

  Maggie

  I needed to talk to someone, but the person I would normally turn to I couldn’t.
He needed me. He needed me to be strong, to be brave, to be the one that could make everything better.

  I don’t know how to do that. I just know that I have to.

  So, I called the only other person who knows me best.

  I called Lily.

  Maggie

  I sat in the airport waiting for my flight, only marginally aware of the activity around me. Businessmen in suits, carrying briefcases and rushing to make their flights; families embracing to say goodbye as their loved ones passed through security; happy moms and dads with excited children, holding hands and laughing. I saw and heard them, but they seemed far away. An illusion. It was strange to me how the world could keep turning, like nothing had changed. I guess for them nothing had, except in my world, everything had changed. So much so, and so quickly, that I was having a hard time separating my nightmares from reality. The last few days have been layered with a blackness so thick I don’t think I’ll ever be able to cut through it.

  I looked down at my hands because that was all I seemed to be able to bring into focus. They were shaking and they somehow didn’t even look like my hands. Focusing on them, however, made me feel a little more grounded. I rubbed them together thinking that warming them up would help. I felt tears threatening at the corners of my eyes, wondering how there could be any left. Fear and uncertainty was trying to creep back in, fighting to take up permanent residence in my mind. I wanted to run; I didn’t want to face this.

  I closed my eyes, shook my head, and breathed. No, I won’t let that happen. I’ve made it this far, I’m not turning back now.

  Talking to Lily last night had helped. It wasn’t easy for me to open up that much of myself to her, even though we’d been best friends since college. I’d never let her see so much of my soul. Opening up to her, confiding in her about my feelings and my fears, about how frozen I felt on the inside, it gave me a sense of relief and courage that I never expected to find because she gently reminded me that it had already let go; or rather, I had let go of it. She also reminded me that I had already fought that battle and won, and it wasn’t one I needed to face again.

  She was right, I had recently faced things that I thought I never would and I had come out on the other side, realizing that I was a lot stronger than I thought. For the first time in my adult life I was truly happy and ready to make a major change; a major move.

  I’d let fear of pain, fear of being hurt, dictate most of my life. Screw that! I met Joe, and he opened my eyes without even realizing he’d done it. He saw through my brokenness, broke through invisible barriers, and he did it all with a great big smile on his face. And you know what? He deserves the same thing from me.

  I know what he’s thinking. Ever since the doctor said there was a possibility Joe might never regain the use of his legs he withdrew. Not completely, but in small ways. He’s scared. He’s scared of how this could permanently impact not only his life, but everyone who cares about him. Joe has always been the guy to help others laugh through their pain, through their tears and frustrations. That’s who is he is. I love him for it. It’s time the rest of us do the same for him. I will spend the rest of my life giving Joe a reason to smile. I swear it on my mother’s grave.

  I wiped my eyes, and looked over at Joe and his parents. He was released from the hospital here and we were all flying back to Nashville. Eight long days we spent cooped up inside the sterile walls of the hospital and now we were going home.

  Home.

  I can say that now. I made the definitive decision to leave Colorado the day Joe woke up, and I haven’t faltered from it. Where he goes…I go. It really is as simple as that. My apartment was on a month to month lease, so at the end of this month I am officially no longer a Colorado resident. My brother is going to box up my things and ship them to me. Anything I don’t need, like furniture, will be put in storage. Everything else can be sorted out later.

  As far as work goes, well, I quit. It was nice that my boss understood, although really, that was the least of my concerns. However, I did appreciate the letter of recommendation she typed for me, and with an impressive portfolio and job references, finding a photography job in Nashville should be less difficult.

  “May I have your attention please…American Airlines Flight 5832 to Nashville is now boarding.”

  I stood, grabbed my coat I had draped over the chair beside me and put it on. I took the handles of Joe’s wheelchair and pushed him toward the flight attendant to scan our tickets. Joe’s mom and dad trailed directly behind us.

  “Welcome aboard,” the attendant said as she handed our electronic tickets back. “Enjoy your flight.”

  “Thank you,” Joe said politely. I offered a warm thank you as well, and together we were on our way.

  Joe

  The indignities of paralysis were even more daunting than the prospect of finding out that I may never walk again. Forget about reaching for that glass bowl perched on the upper shelf in the upper cabinet. It’s gonna stay there. And checking the mail, something I did every day without thought, suddenly became an issue. Wheelchair won’t fit through your ordinary bathroom door? No problem. Take that baby off its hinges and replace it with a long curtain. Don’t think it’s easy to flip over in a wheelchair? It is. I’ve managed to do it twice already this week. I would thrust forward, the chair would slip back, and there I’d be on my back like a damn turtle.

  And don’t even talk to me about the one time I decided I needed to get out of the damn house and go for a stroll, or in my case, a roll, down to the local Starbucks. There was a long line out front, so like everyone else, I got in line to wait my turn. Then some do-gooder who thought they needed to put a checkmark in the “help a cripple” column on their to-do list grabbed my chair handles and wheeled me to the front of the line. Of course the incident wouldn’t have been complete without the man proclaiming out loud so everyone could hear him say, “I want to buy this man a cup of coffee.”

  I don’t want people’s pity. I don’t want their charity. I don’t need to be wheeled to the front of the fucking line. And I can buy my own damn coffee. But this is what my life has become.

  I had crooked my finger at my do-gooder in action and waited for him to bend his ear to me. “I can pay for my own coffee. I wait in line like everyone else. And I know you mean well, but the next time you think about putting your hands on another person’s chair ask if it’s okay first. You got me?”

  “Sorry, man,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender. “Just wanted to help.”

  “I know, but I don’t need it. Thanks anyway.”

  Which brings me to Maggie. She’s been great to me, and somehow, she has managed not to make me feel like a freak, but I hated feeling so damn vulnerable with her. I am her man…at least I’m supposed to be. But every day that goes by with me in this chair, I feel less and less like one. I don’t know how to be this person. I may never know how to be this person, which in essence means, I may never know how to be with Maggie.

  It hasn’t been all bad and depressing though. When I first got home I was greeted by the best friends anyone could ever have.

  I woke up to someone knocking on the bedroom door, and then Hayden and Cooper jumped out and yelled “SURPRISE!” and commenced ridiculous dance moves into the center of the room, along with equally ridiculous faces. Those idiots could make a man on fire laugh. What the hell were they doing here before breakfast on a Sunday morning?

  Cooper walked up to the side of the bed and grabbed my hand, pulled me into his chest for a good ol’ fashioned male to male chest bump (our version of hugging, for the ladies’ information) and then Hayden did the same.

  “What are you guys doing here so early?” I asked.

  “Coming to see you, loser. Obviously,” Hayden said, rolling his eyes at me.

  “How ya doin’ man?” Copper asked.

  How was I doing? I supposed I could lie and put a big grin on my face and tell them what they wanted to hear. Oh, I’m GREAT man, doin real good! They knew
me better than that. Plus I knew they’d talked to Maggie and she would’ve told them I was feeling like total worthless shit. So I opted for the truth, they were big boys, they could handle it.

  “I’m fucking terrible.”

  They were both quiet, smiles disappeared and things got “real” as the kids say.

  “Dude—” Cooper started.

  “No, man, don’t. I’m alright. I mean, this sucks bad and my head is fucked up as hell. Too much to think about…to worry about. I don’t wanna talk about it, okay? Not today guys.”

  They both nodded and Hayden sat down beside me and broke into a grin. “All right, loser. What do you wanna talk about?”

  I punched him in the arm. “My fists work fine, dipshit.”

  Cooper shook his head. “Do you guys ever give it a rest?’

  “Nope!” we both said emphatically at the same time. Knowing that at least some things hadn’t changed, I laughed…we all did. God, I loved these guys. What would I do without them? They were my best friends since forever, and I was really glad they were here.

  Another knock on the door and Maggie asked, “Can we come in?”

  “Why the hell not?” I asked, still laughing. Maggie entered the room with Lily right behind her. They were holding hands and I could tell they had both been crying. My heart broke a little seeing their faces, so I put on a big smile and reached toward Lily. “Get over here and give me a hug, girl!”

  Lily let go of Maggie’s hand and rushed to my side. Hayden stood up and Lily took his place. She grabbed my face with both hands. “Promise me you will never scare me like this again, Joe Carlisle! Promise me!” Tears rolled down her cheeks, holding on until I promised, then she gave me the biggest squeeze I think I’d ever had from a girl.

  “Jeez, Coop! Get Lil off the juice! I think she broke my ribs!”

  Lily blushed. “Joe, I’m sorry! Did I really hurt you?”

  I squeezed her again. “No, Lily, you didn’t hurt me, but I’ve never had a girl hug me that tight.”

 

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