Chapter 26 #3
I understood that meant he didn’t want to talk about it there. My hand reached toward his before I thought about it. He took it and rubbed his thumb across my knuckles. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” he said.
Claire cleared her throat lightly. “I hate to interrupt, but we still have another exercise.”
I stared at her. “You don’t hate it.”
“No. I really don’t.” She snickered in a playful way trying to lighten the mood. I had a newfound respect for these therapists. They had a hard job.
Lev stood and removed his suit jacket, draping it over the back of a nearby chair. “What we doing next?”
“We?”
He rolled up his sleeves. “You heard me.”
The rest of therapy went better with him there, not easier because nothing about learning how to move inside my new body was easy.
Claire had me practice controlled transfers, balancing while reaching for objects, and taking short hopping steps inside the bars without letting my right knee collapse.
She also showed me exercises meant to strengthen my hips and core so I would be ready for a prosthesis once the incision healed and the swelling decreased.
I cursed through most of it. Lev stayed close enough to catch me if I slipped but never grabbed me unless Claire told him to.
Every time frustration made me stop, he gave me a few seconds before telling me to keep going.
By the time Denise wheeled me back to my room, exhaustion had settled into my bones.
Lev followed with his jacket over one shoulder.
A doctor and another woman were waiting inside.
The woman introduced herself as part of the prosthetics and rehabilitation team, then placed several brochures across the rolling table.
The pictures showed different prosthetic legs, suspension systems, feet, and components I didn’t understand.
Some looked simple and others looked so advanced they belonged in a laboratory instead of attached to somebody’s body.
“We won’t fit you for the permanent prosthesis immediately,” she explained.
“The incision needs time to heal, and the residual limb will continue changing shape as the swelling decreases. For now, we’ll focus on wound care, protecting the limb, reducing swelling, strengthening, and preparing you to function safely at home. ”
I nodded, though the amount of information made my head hurt.
She showed me temporary options that could be adjusted during the early stages, then explained how the prosthetic socket would eventually be made to fit around my leg.
The right fit mattered because too much pressure could damage the skin, while too much space could make the prosthesis unstable.
“What about those?” I asked, pointing toward a sleek model in one of the brochures.
“That’s a higher activity system,” she said. “The specific components depend on your goals, your strength, your balance, and what insurance approves.”
There was always a word waiting to remind me that even rebuilding my body came with a price tag. “And if insurance doesn’t approve it?”
The woman hesitated. “There may be out of pocket costs. Some of the more advanced systems can be expensive, especially when you include the socket, foot, fittings, and future adjustments.”
I looked down at the brochure. Before I could ask how expensive, Lev spoke from the chair beside me. “She getting the best one.”
The specialist turned toward him. “We’ll need to evaluate what’s clinically appropriate for her first.”
“I heard you, whatever the best option is for what she needs, that’s what she’s getting.”
“Lev,” I said quietly.
He didn’t look at me. His attention stayed on the specialist. “We’re not picking based on what an insurance company feels like paying. You show her everything that can help her get back to living how she wants to live, and I’ll handle the rest.”
The doctor glanced between us. “Some components may need to change as her activity level improves.”
“Then change them.”
“There could be additional fittings and replacements over time.”
“Send the bill.”
I stared at him. He finally looked at me and leaned back in the chair as if he hadn’t just committed to spending more money than most people made in a year. “You don’t have to do that. This could cost a lot.”
He reached for my hand. “You think I give a fuck what it cost?”
My throat tightened. “This is my responsibility.”
“No.” His fingers closed around mine. “Getting better is your responsibility. Let me handle everything else.”
The prosthetics specialist began explaining the next steps, but I barely heard her. I watched Lev’s thumb move slowly across my hand. For weeks, I had looked at my future and seen nothing but everything I had lost… walking, working, dancing, and moving through a room without needing help.
Lev looked at the same future and spoke as though none of it was over.
As though I was still worth investing in.
As though my body hadn’t become too difficult to love.
I tightened my fingers around his and for the first time since waking up after surgery, the future didn’t feel like a door that had slammed shut.
It felt like something I might eventually learn how to walk toward.