“It’s been a few months since we took any x-rays so I can’t be certain, but I’m guessing that screw snapped as the bone was healing over the summer. I also suspect that, at that point in the bone shaft, the bone is still healing. The x-rays suggest that. I would have hoped it would have fully healed by now. Remember though, there was significant trauma in that area. It was the point of impact in the accident. By sitting on the bar stool with the weight of your leg unsupported, I suspect that you’ve put extra stress on that weak area of partially healed bone. In short, I’m confident that the problem now is a stress fracture of your femur.”
Tears welled up in her eyes and Lori could feel her throat tightening.
“Don’t look so scared,” said John softly. “It’s a setback, but it’s not the end of the world, Lori.”
“So why do you want to refer to Dr Hartson if you’re sure that’s what the problem is?” she asked, sounding totally defeated.
“I want his professional opinion,” replied John. “I want to ensure he’s happy to leave the broken screw where it is. The bone’s still well aligned so I would rather not touch the screw either to replace or remove it. He may decide differently. I just want to double check. We need to ensure whatever we decide to do is the best for you and your long term recovery.”
Lori nodded slowly as a tear slid down her cheek, “So what now?”
“This is the tough part, I’m afraid,” he began. “You need to go back to using your crutches for a few weeks. You need to be non-weight bearing on that leg to allow that bone to heal completely. When you’re sitting you need to ensure your thigh is fully supported. No more perching on bar stools, Mz Hyde.”
“How long will it take to heal?”
“The million dollar question,” he sighed. “Judging by your recovery time so far I would estimate eight to twelve weeks. Now you won’t need to be non-weight bearing that whole time, but I do want you to stay on crutches until it is fully healed. No pushing it this time.”
“How long will I need to be non-weight bearing for?”
“That also depends on the rate of healing and the level of pain. Initially I’d say about four weeks.”
“So what am I allowed to do?” she asked, wiping away another tear. “Am I confined to the house again?”
“Not at all,” he replied quickly. “Just be sensible about what you do, Lori. Once the bone has healed a bit more I’ll send you to one of the physical therapists. Keep up with some gentle stretching and non-impact exercise for now. And I mean gentle.”
“Can I still drive?”
“Your car’s an automatic, right?”
Lori nodded.
“Then you should be ok to drive. Just be careful if you’ve had to take any strong pain medication,” he answered. “Stick to your low level pain meds routine for the next four weeks. If you play by the rules, you shouldn’t need to resort to the strong stuff.”
“What about flying?”
“How long a flight?” asked the doctor.
“The band are going to Australia and New Zealand towards the end of next month. Jake wanted me to go with him,” she explained.
“Leave that thought with me for now,” said John. “I’ll see you back here on Jan 7th and we can talk about it then.”
“Ok,” agreed Lori with a heavy heart.
“Come on,” said the doctor with a warm smile. “I’ll take you round to see Jo just now to get you sorted out with some crutches.”
“Thanks,” she muttered, as John helped her to her feet. “Great Christmas present.”
As they walked slowly across to the physical therapy department, the doctor asked how things were going with the band. Briefly Lori filled him in on the success of the album and the UK tour dates. She then explained about the school show lined up for the weekend.
“That’s where I’m headed after here, if that’s still ok?” she said as they reached the physical therapy waiting room. “I’m to support an art project along a Silver Lake theme this afternoon.”
“No reason why you can’t still go if you feel up to it,” he replied with a smile. “Jo will be with you in a minute or two. I’d better get back to my clinic. Any problems give me a call. If not I’ll see you at ten on January 7th.”
“I’d love to say I’ll look forward to it,” she joked feebly. “Have a lovely Christmas if I don’t see you.”
“You too, Lori.”
Across town, Jake and Rich were sitting outside the principal’s office waiting for Dr Jones to call them in. There was a student already in the office along with their parents. Raised voices could be heard coming from behind the closed door. Politely the secretary had instructed the two music teachers to sit and wait. After a few minutes, Jake began to grin.
“What’s so funny?” asked Rich looking confused.
“Us sitting here like two naughty kids,” laughed Jake.
“I guess,” agreed Rich, with a smile, seeing the humour in it. “Think we’ll get expelled?”
Before Jake could reply, the principal’s door opened and Dr Jones bade farewell to the student and their parents. As the family headed towards the exit, he beckoned Jake and Rich to come in.
As Jake shut the door behind them, Dr Jones said, “Welcome back, gentlemen. How was your trip?”
“Fantastic,” replied Jake, taking a seat.
“But hard work too,” added Rich. “Long days and late nights.”
“Glad to hear it went well. The school has been buzzing as the kids followed your shows on YouTube and various other social media sites,” declared the principal with a hint of pride. “Even the staff are excited to have our two rock stars back.” He paused, then added, “I’m guessing you’re not back for long though.”
“That’s what we are here to talk about,” admitted Rich. “Things are really taking off and the band needs more and more of our time.”
The principal sat nodding as he listened to their plans for the start of the year.
“We’ll see out the next two weeks till the end of term,” Jake said. “But we have to move on after Christmas.”
“And I wish you all the best of luck,” said Dr Jones sincerely. “You’ve not said anything I hadn’t anticipated. I’ve two supply teachers lined up for January to cover your classes.”
“Thanks, sir,” said Rich. “We would like to make an offer to help you though.”
“Shoot.”
“Poor choice of words, sir,” joked Jake, remembering his previous visit to the principal.
“Apologies, Jake.”
“I’m teasing you,” laughed Jake. “What we want to suggest is that we keep in touch with the school and when we’re in town with some free time on our hands that we come back in to do some workshops. Free of charge, of course.”
“Very generous of you and I’d be delighted to take you up on that. The kids will really benefit from it too.”
“We want to give something back,” added Rich.
“And to keep me on side in case you need to come crawling back looking for a job?” observed Dr Jones with a wink.
“Something like that.”
“I’m sure we can work something out,” he agreed. “Now speaking of working things out. Let’s talk about this show on Saturday.”
They spent the next half an hour filling the principal in on their ideas for the set for Saturday night. Both of them were keen that Silver Lake did not monopolise the whole evening and that the senior school still got their traditional Christmas social too. After a bit of debate, Dr Jones agreed that there would be a semi-formal drinks reception between six thirty and seven thirty to allow everyone to arrive and that Silver Lake would play for an hour or so until nine. That left an hour and a half for the traditional elements of the school social. The two musicians explained that they would get the stage set up after school on Friday then have a run through on the Saturday morning.
“We’d like to invite some of the students in for the sound check,” said Jake. “If that’s ok with you?�
�
“Fine by me. I will need to notify the parents that the event is being professionally filmed. I don’t see it being a problem though.”
“We’ll make sure Scott doesn’t film too much of the kids,” promised Rich. “Unless any of them get parental consent to be interviewed.”
“Leave that with me,” said Dr Jones checking the time. “You had better get yourselves to class. The bell’s due any second.”
“Yes, sir,” said Jake getting to his feet. “And thank you.”
“Pleasure, boys.”
Lori had been sitting alone in the waiting room for almost ten minutes before one of the physical therapists came out to fetch her. It had been a long, lonely wait. Several times she had reached for her phone to call Jake, but each time she changed her mind. If she heard his voice now, she would lose the fragile grip she had on her emotions. The news hadn’t been as bad as she had feared, but it still wasn’t good. The very thought of possibly facing more surgery scared her to the very core. Being forced to use crutches again, even for a few weeks, after working so hard to be free of them broke her heart.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Miss Hyde,” said a bright cheerful young male therapist. “Jo’s been caught up with another patient and asked me to see you. Is that ok?”
“It's fine,” said Lori softly, forcing a smile for the young man.
“Ok. Let’s get you through,” he said helping her to her feet. “I’m Billy, by the way,”
“Nice to meet you. Are you new here?”
“Yes, ma’am. I just graduated at the summer. Jo’s my mentor. Dr Brent mailed round to say you’ve to be issued with crutches and given a basic rehab exercise schedule.”
The graduate showed her into a cubicle then excused himself while he went to fetch her a pair of crutches. He was back in a few moments with a bright red metallic pair, still wrapped in cellophane.
“We got stock last week from a new supplier,” he explained, as he opened the bag. “All of them are crazy colours. Is red ok for you? I thought it was kind of festive and a bit of fun. You looked like you needed something to make you smile.”
Laughing, Lori nodded. “I can always put fairy lights on them.”
“Not a bad idea,” agreed Billy joining in the laughter. “Right, that looks to be about the correct height for you.”
He handed her the red crutches, then asked if she remembered how to use them. Nodding, she got to her feet and positioned them carefully.
“Have you been non-weight bearing before?” asked the therapist, scanning over her case notes.
“No,” admitted Lori, shaking her head. “Last time round I started off partially weight bearing.”
“Let’s take you through the basics then.”
Billy had just finished running through the “driving instructions” and talking her through the basic exercise sheet when Jo Brent came dashing in. Her white tunic failed to disguise her baby bump.
“Hi, Lori,” she called cheerfully. “Sorry I was busy when John brought you round.”
“No worries, Jo,” said Lori quietly. “Congratulations. John never said.”
“Oh, this!” laughed Jo, rubbing her belly. “A little surprise! I’m due in March. Baby number three for us.”
“Your bump’s tiny compared to my friend Maddy’s,” observed Lori. “She’s about twenty weeks with twins.”
“Oh Lord!” exclaimed Jo. “I’m glad this one isn’t twins. I feel huge already compared to the last twice.”
“Jo, I’ve set Miss Hyde up with the rehab schedule. Do you want me to book her in for clinic?”
“Yes, Billy,” replied Jo. “Twice a week from January 7th. Is that ok with you, Lori?”
“Whatever it takes,” replied Lori resignedly. “I just can’t believe this has happened.”
“It’s rotten luck,” sympathised Jo warmly. “But you’re starting your recovery period from a far stronger position this time. You’ll be back on your feet in no time.”
“John said eight to twelve weeks at least,” she said staring at the floor. “It feels like a life sentence right now.”
“I can imagine,” agreed the therapist. “Especially after all you’ve been through to get this far.”
“What a way to celebrate the first anniversary. Still broken,” sighed Lori, feeling tears welling up in her eyes. With a deep breath, she pulled herself together. “Is there anything else I need to know or do for the next few weeks?”
“Rest. Healthy diet,” recommended Jo. “And relax and enjoy the holiday season. Get Jake to run around after you.”
“He’ll smother me in kindness,” admitted Lori with a sad smile. “Am I free to go?”
“I’ll walk you out,” offered Jo, as she watched her struggle to her feet. “John said you were still ok to drive, didn’t he?”
Lori nodded, “Thank God.”
“Here, let me take your bag and your cane till you get used to walking with those pretty red festive sticks,” offered Jo kindly. “Billy, I’ll be back in a few minutes. You write this up while I’m gone.”
Sitting alone in the car, watching Jo walk back into the building, Lori felt her emotions flood through her. Tears flowed soundlessly down her cheeks as she sat with her head in her hands. Tears of anger and frustration; tears of hurt and fear. Gradually she calmed herself down, reasoned with her inner self that this really wasn’t the end of the world and that, like all the other aspects of her recovery, she would get through this. A cricket chirp from her bag brought her back to reality. Reaching for her phone, she saw it was a message from Jake, “What did the Dr say? J x”
“Just leaving. Will tell you when I see you at school. Will call when I get there. L x”
Before she set off, Lori spent a few moments fixing her makeup in the tiny vanity mirror in the car. Her eyes were still red, but she hoped they would clear by the time she reached the school. As she started the engine the radio came on, tuned to the local rock station. They were playing “Stronger Within”, a version Jake and Rich had recorded during an interview a few months before. Hearing Jake’s beautiful, haunting voice filling the car made her smile as she drove out of the car park.
Jake was pacing up and down outside the school watching for her when she finally drove in through the gates. Without a second thought, Lori pulled into one of the handicapped spaces by the main door. Before she had turned off the engine, Jake was beside the car.
“I was worried,” he gushed, as he opened the door. “Hey, you’ve been crying, li’l lady.”
“Sorry,” apologised Lori, trying to remain composed. “Is there somewhere we can talk privately? Somewhere with coffee?”
“Sure. There’s an interview room next to the principal’s office,” answered Jake. “You’re scaring me, Lori.”
“No need to be scared, rock star,” she assured him, as she reached round for her scarlet crutches. “Just a bit of a sorry tale to tell.”
“Crutches?” he asked, stating the obvious.
“Yes,” she replied with a forced smile, as she climbed awkwardly out of the car. “Red ones.”
A few minutes later they were sitting in the small interview room. Jake had fetched them a coffee from the refectory and, having taken a large mouthful of the hot dark liquid to steady her nerves, Lori told Jake exactly what John Brent had told her.
“A stress fracture?” he echoed in disbelief. “From sitting on a stool?”
“John says it’s the most likely explanation and it fits with when the pain began to feel worse.”
“And how long will it take to heal?”
“Eight to twelve weeks he reckons,” answered Lori. “I’ve to see him in four weeks and begin therapy again then. He’s also going to consult the surgeon who operated on me after the accident to get his opinion. Until then, I’m to be non-weight bearing as far as possible.”
“Oh, Lori, I’m sorry,” soothed Jake hugging her. “I don’t know what to say.”
“There’s not much to say,” she replied, wip
ing away a tear.
“Hey, don’t cry, li’l lady,” he said, kissing away the teardrop. “We’ll get through this together. You’re not on your own this time.”
“Thanks,” she whispered, kissing him gently.
The bell to sound the end of morning recess rang loudly in the background.
“Do you want me to tell Linsey you’ve had to go home?”
“No,” stated Lori emphatically. “I promised to help her out. I’m as well sitting about here helping out, as I am sitting at home on my own.”
“If you’re sure.”
“Positive,” said Lori firmly. “Can you take me up to find her?”
“Of course,” agreed Jake. “Then I’ll need to run. I’ve a class this period.”
“Poor choice of words, rock star.”
Spending time with the senior art class proved to be the perfect distraction. Lori and Linsey spent the hour before lunch working out a rough plan of the decoration required for the hall to promote the band. Deciding to aim big, Lori suggested splitting the class in half and have one half produce a mural to reflect a rock concert venue while the other half could do a back drop for the stage. If time allowed, they agreed they would produce some promotional posters to display round the school. The art teacher loved the ideas and suggested that she could get some of the younger students to help with the posters. With such a tight deadline, it was a challenging task to set the students. The two girls opted to work through lunch in order to be as prepared as possible for the afternoon class. When the lunch bell rang, Jake came to fetch Lori but was instead despatched to the refectory to fetch lunch for all of them. He returned a short while later and threw his own thoughts into the planning as they ate their lunch together.
When the students came tumbling into the art room after lunch Lori recognised a few of them from her previous visit, including Brad Green. He sat quietly at the back, listening closely as Linsey explained that Lori had been on tour with the band and had come to help them recreate a genuine concert scene for Saturday night. The class plied Lori with questions about the concerts she had attended in Britain and she did her best to keep her answers relevant to the task at hand. Eventually Linsey intervened, split the class and set them to work, with promises that they could quiz Lori later. Throughout the lesson, Brad sat silently designing a poster, unwilling to be part of the team events. As Lori toured the classroom, she complimented him on the design. He looked up and smiled briefly, then said quietly, “Thank you. I want to make sure it’s perfect for Mr Power and you. To say sorry.”
Stronger Within (The Silver Lake Series Book 1) Page 56