“Yes.”
“How long?”
“How long what, Mr. Ellis?”
“How long will it take me to recover?” I press.
“Well, that depends on you, and how your body responds to the therapy. In my opinion, you are in exceptional shape—young, athletic. You should have no issues bouncing back as long as you are committed to therapy.”
I glance at my mom again. She’s been silent the whole time but looks like she’s ready to fall apart.
“When can I start?” I ask Dr. Saltzman.
He tries to smile again. His thin lips look like a squiggly line. A happy face really doesn’t work for this man.
“We’ll get you up and walking in a little while. You’ll start physical therapy here in the hospital while under observation. I’m going to recommend you stay at home for a month or so after you are released, so you can solely concentrate on rehab. I think a stress-free environment will aid in the recovery process.”
“I’m good with that.” I’m confident, ready to face this head on.
Dr. Saltzman nods, then stands.
“Thank you.” I track him with my eyes gratefully.
“It’s what I’m here for. Now, hurry up and get better. The Crimson Tide needs a quarterback next year.” He winks.
I can’t help but snicker. Everyone’s a fan, even straight-edged neurosurgeons with the quirky smile.
“Mom, you okay?” I turn my attention to my mother once Dr. Saltzman leaves. She nods, but the dam breaks.
“I’m sorry, Kam. I want to be strong.” She wipes her eyes. “But, baby, almost losing you . . .”
“Mom, stop.” I can’t stand it when she cries. “Just come here and hug me.” I can’t stand it when any girl cries. She darts the two feet separating us and gingerly wraps her arms around me, her tears wetting my cheek. I hold onto her as much as my weak muscles will allow. This really sucks. I feel helpless. “You heard the doctor. I’m going to be okay.” I try to reassure her.
“I know, thank God.” She pulls away from me and smiles rubbing her swollen eyes and red nose.
“That will be it, baby, I promise. No more tears. Unless they’re of joy. You’re awake and alive, and that’s something to celebrate.”
“Damn straight.” I try to sound cheerful, but I’m suddenly really, really tired.
“Dad is picking up Trevor and Luke from school. They should be here in a little bit. He was upset he left right before you woke up.”
“How’s he doing?” My parents divorced when I was ten and my twin brothers were six. He still plays a very active role in our lives, despite being remarried and living in another town.
“He’s a mess. His all-star, golden boy and first-born son? He would be done if he lost you. We both would.”
“Well, apparently it’s kind of hard to get rid of me.”
“And we thank our lucky stars for that.” She kisses my head. “Get some rest so your brothers can come and harass you.”
“Can’t wait.” I yawn, barely able to keep my eyes open.
Physical therapy is a mind fuck.
My brain says run, but my body laughs and holds me hostage at a snail’s pace on the treadmill. It’s been three weeks since I woke up from the coma. Two weeks were spent in the hospital and the last week I’ve spent at home, focusing on rehab. I didn’t realize the toll being unconscious for fourteen days took on my body until I tried to stand. It’s like everything just stopped working and has been protesting to start up again ever since.
“Come on, Kam, two more minutes, then you’re done,” my trainer, Dylan, says. He’s been assigned my case. That’s what I’m called,a case. It pisses me off royally. I’m Kamdyn Fucking Ellis, nota case.Not an invalid or some impaired Joe Schmo, even though that’s how I feel at the moment.
“Just rev it and give my body a challenge. I’m tired of the leisurely strolls.” I bark, frustrated.
