Locked Inside

by Annette Mori

  Quinn agreed to become Abbie’s roommate when she returned to college and was a wonderful support to her through her frequent bouts of temptation. As a gentle spirit, I never worried about how Quinn might react if Abbie fell off the wagon again, but Taylor was a different story.

  She told her so quite bluntly. “If you fuck up one more time, you can kiss our support goodbye as I kick your ass out of our lives.” Taylor was a spitfire like that and she had little patience for people who squandered the opportunities presented to them.

  Eventually, Abbie started to date a very nice woman she’d met at one of her AA groups. I liked her immediately because I knew she was able to call bullshit on anything that Abbie might try to get away with. They were well suited for one another.

  †

  In the fall of 2011, I began my painful and frustrating journey to regain the use of my legs. This was the final hurdle. Carly, Quinn, Taylor, and even Abbie stood steadfastly beside me during all of my ups and downs. And there were many.

  My recovery began much like it had with my arms—a simple movement of one of my toes and I was off and running. Figuratively, of course, because it would take another three years before I could walk, much less run.

  “Come on, Belinda, just one more time, move your right foot again and then we can go have some breakfast,” Quinn urged.

  This was a common mantra on our ritual morning workouts. First, it started with an urge to move my toes, then my foot, then my leg, and so on until I was taking my first steps with assistance. It sounds so easy as I describe my progress, but it was hard work and the fact that it took me three years to progress to walking should tell you the true story.

  I desperately wanted to walk on stage and retrieve my diploma standing, not rolling forward in a wheelchair. Each of the colleges had their own ceremonies, so Carly was able to be right there for me as I received my diploma.

  For some reason, UW administration asked me to make a short speech on my experience at the UW. They were especially interested in me talking about all the obstacles I’d had to overcome to make it to graduation. I wanted to be standing as I gave my five-minute speech.

  Unbeknownst to me, Carly went to the UW administration to get special dispensation for me. She was convinced I could walk in my ceremony—just not as far as was required and not up a set of stairs, even if it was only a few of them.

  On the day of graduation, I was teary eyed because I knew I wouldn’t reach my ultimate goal. I would have to roll up the ramp and try to stand on my own to walk across the stage without assistance, and this was highly unlikely considering that right before getting my diploma I would be standing for five full minutes during my speech. I’d never have the continued strength needed to make it all the way to the stage to receive my diploma.

  Carly kneeled down in front of me. “Listen, Belinda, don’t be mad but I kinda arranged something for graduation. They’ve agreed for you to be standing off to the side and when they call your name, you can walk to get your diploma. It’s a short distance, so I know you can make it by yourself, but if you want, I can walk with you.”

  I pulled her face to mine and kissed her. “Thank you, Carly. I love you, you know that right?”

  “Yep, always and forever.”

  “I want to try to walk this on my own. Not that I don’t want you by my side, but I have to do this for myself. You understand, right?” I asked.

  “I do,” she responded. “You can do this.”

  †

  While all the graduates waited for the procession to begin, I rolled onto the stage to give my short speech. I was oddly calm as I pulled myself up and leaned on the podium for support.

  A hush fell across the crowd as they waited for me to impart whatever words of wisdom I had for the graduating class of 2014.

  I cleared my throat and began my speech. “Six years ago I couldn’t speak. I woke up from a long slumber, unable to do anything but blink and eat. My arms didn’t work and my legs were two atrophied useless limbs—everyone thought I was a vegetable and would remain that way until I mercifully died. If it wasn’t for the love and support of some very special people, I wouldn’t be here today. Three years ago, I gained the use of my voice with the help of a very special therapist. One year ago, I couldn’t walk. Today I hope to change that, but I want everyone to know that in life, every obstacle placed before us is an opportunity and no one can climb those mountains alone. We all need the love and support of one another. I’m not special. The people I surround myself are the special ones….”

  I glanced at Carly on the sidelines and she gave me the thumbs up gesture. I continued my speech and when I said my final line, tears formed in my eyes as the entire audience stood and gifted me with a standing ovation. “Never let the bastards keep you down because you will only remain locked inside by the limitations you place on yourself—the opportunities are limitless.”

  I sat back down in my chair, mentally preparing myself for my final hurdle of the afternoon. I rolled back to the sidelines to wait for the dean to call my name and to finally walk on my own.

  My hands were perspiring as I waited to receive my diploma. Finally, the moment of truth arrived.

  “Belinda Moore.”

  Carly was standing next to me as I rose from my chair and took my first step toward the podium. I grabbed her arm to steady myself and she winked at me. I kissed her on the lips and began my final journey.

  As my unsteady gait crossed the stage floor, I heard the hoots and hollers of all my friends and family.

  I could hear Taylor yell. “You go, girl.”

  Evie whistled and shouted. “That’s my big sister.”

  The cacophony of other voices included Mom, Dad, Dr. and Mr. Sullivan, Abbie, Quinn, Nessa, Dr. Carter, Darian and Paula. There were various versions of woo hoo, yeah, and other shouts of encouragement from my mini fan club.

  I was overwhelmed to know that Dr. Carter, the doctor who had tested me at the Neuroscience Institute at Virginia Mason had followed my progress during the years and sat in the stands alongside my family and friends.

  Nessa, who was now a registered nurse at the same rehab center where I spent a little more than six years of my life, drove up from Bellingham to see me graduate. I was so happy to see her again because she was one of the caregivers that stood out during my initial recovery. If it hadn’t been for both Nessa and Carly, who recognized right from the start that something was different, I might not have made it this far.

  Darian and Paula made a special trip from Berkeley just to see Carly and me graduate. Their simple gesture of friendship touched me deeply.

  I finally made it to the stage and clutched the diploma in my hand, raising it above my head. I could hear the whole auditorium erupt in cheers. I’d made it. It didn’t matter that it took me twice as long to reach the dean who was handing out diplomas, I had walked there on my own two legs.

  When I turned around to head back to my chair, I felt my legs begin to buckle under me. Carly rushed across the stage to help me off.

  I whispered in her ear. “Thank you for being here.”

  “Always and forever. Perpetuity. That’s my word for the day—it means time without end, for all eternity. That’s how long I’ll be by your side,” she responded.

  About the Author

  Annette Mori

  Annette is a health care executive living in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her wife and their three furry kids. Well, actually, it might be more than three, but they do not count the ones they only feed. Annette is fifty-six years old and believes it is not too late to try something new. As an avid reader, she is pleased there are thousands of good books to choose from and hopes that one day hers will be one of the many for readers to consider. She reads at least three to four books a week, so please keep them coming. She has a habit to feed, after all.

  No matter if you loved it or hated it, Annette would love your comments. Feel free to e-mail her at annettemori0859@gmail.com. She will always be a WIP
(work in progress—she just learned that) so feedback is a gift. You can also check out her website at annettmori0859.wordpress.com where you can find all her archived blogs.

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  About the Author

  Other Affinity eBooks

 

 

 
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