CHAPTER 26 I CAN’T WAIT
I CAN’T WAIT
Phoenix
“I don’t care if the arm’s going to give me more function, I want that damned leg,” Phoenix insisted as he wheeled down a familiar corridor.
“Okay, fine. We’ll do it your way,” Nadine relented. She walked beside him, toting his accessories. “The occupational therapist will work with you on your arm. We need to work on your gait anyway. You’re putting too much strain on your joints. You don’t want to end up with a hip replacement.”
“I feel crappy enough and you want to talk about hip replacements?”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay. You know, the leg made me feel so much better this weekend.”
“Yeah, everyone’s heard about your dramatic break-out.”
“Ha.”
“You know they’re going to really clamp down on you now, right?”
“Well, there’s no need. What’s wrong with a guy wanting to go out?”
They pushed through the doors to the windowed room with the parallel bars. Once inside, she arranged his “spare parts” on the ground. She bent and lifted a rounded silicone liner from the pile.
“Nothing wrong with wanting to go out. But everything wrong with wanting to hurt yourself, you hear?” She cleared her throat and straightened. “That’s against the rules.”
“Got it.”
“If you feel that way again, you have to tell one of us. Promise?”
He nodded. He’d already promised his psychotherapist, occupational therapist, and Mom. So what was one more?
“You’re going to think about the prescription too, right?” she asked, handing him the liner.
He shook his head. “No happy pills. I’m off the pain meds, I’m not going to start something new.”
Phoenix leaned down and crossed his right hand over his left side, starting the awkward process of rolling the silicone sleeve up his left calf. The liner was needed to protect his skin before locking his leg into the socket and prosthesis.
Nadine watched. “So what’d you do after sneaking out?”
“Sascha, my brother’s ex, you know?” He looked up and she nodded. “Took me out to see a live band. They were just two guys. Amazing what they could do. One guy played the drums with one hand, a keyboard with the other, and sang lead vocals.”
“All at the same time?”
“Yeah. He made the other guy, a guitarist and sound engineer, look lazy.”
“You could play an instrument too, you know. Especially if you get used to using your arm prosthesis.”
“I wasn’t musical before the accident, and an artificial arm sure isn’t going to help matters. . . . Do you play?”
“My mom made me take piano when I was young. I wished I’d stuck with it and practiced more. I met an amputee during my physical therapy internship. He could play better with one hand than I could with two.” She blushed, perhaps afraid she’d hurt his feelings.
Today, it was as if he wore Teflon. Hurt deflected right off him.
“You and your stories of people who can do more with less. As if losing a limb makes them stronger.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not sure I can stand those people who think I’m a saint because I can live without an arm and a leg. It’s not like I have a choice. And if I did, I know what I’d choose.”
“You say that now.” She looked up, holding the carbon fitting in place for him.
His back to the wall of windows, Phoenix grasped the right side of the parallel bar and hauled himself upright. He eased weight onto his prosthetic leg.
“It’s going to get better. You wait and see.”
Standing, Phoenix’s view shifted from Nadine’s waist to over her head. His return to full stature lifted his mood, too. He limped a step towards the exit. “You know what, you might be right,” Phoenix said.