Page 73 of Last Dance, Second Chance

“Would you like me to come in with you?” Nathan asked quietly.

“Yes, please,” Jessica whispered back as she stood up to go into the examination room.

“Hello, Jessica,” said a tall, middle-aged man, closing the door behind them. “I’m Dr Chung. I’ve had a look at your X-ray, and I’m happy to take the cast off today.”

Jessica let out a sigh of relief.

“I take it you haven’t enjoyed having your foot in plaster?” joked Dr Chung.

“Not really,” said Jessica.

“I’ve got some sheets here with some exercises you should do to strengthen the foot. It will still be a bit sore, and I’ll prescribe you some painkillers for that. You’ll need to be careful not to overdo it for a while.”

“How soon before I can start exercising on it properly?” Jessica asked. “I’m a dancer, and I’d like to be able to get back to work as soon as possible.”

“You’ll need to build up slowly,” said Dr Chung. “Would you like a referral to a physiotherapist? It could take a little while.”

“No, thank you,” said Jessica. “I live in New York and my company will sort me out with one of their sports physiotherapists when I go back.”

“OK, great. Let’s get this cast off then,” Dr Chung said.

He called a nurse in and Jessica climbed up onto the examination table. Nathan stayed by her and held her hand. A wave of nausea came over her as the nurse started up the saw, and she flinched when he cut through the plaster. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from her foot as the saw worked its way along the cast.

The nurse stopped the saw and gently removed the cast. Jessica saw her foot for the first time in six weeks.

Her foot looked tiny and skeletal. It was pale and covered in flakes of skin. It looked weak. She burst into tears.

“It’s OK,” said Nathan, holding her. “It’s OK.”

“It’s not OK,” said Jessica, pushing him away. She knew she was being unfair, but she didn’t want to hear someone telling her things were fine. Things were not fine. The doctor had been positive, and she’d been very aware that she’d need to rebuild the muscles in her foot, but, right now, she couldn’t imagine ever being able to go en pointe again. She needed someone to understand how terrifying that thought was for her, not to tell her that everything was fine.

“Are you all done?” Jessica asked the nurse as she furiously wiped at her eyes.

“Yes,” said the nurse, kindly. “Would you like a wheelchair to help you out?”

“No, thank you,” said Jessica. There was no way she was going to get back in a wheelchair again. She put on the spare sock she’d packed in her bag, but didn’t feel confident enough to try a shoe. She climbed off the table, ignoring Nathan’s offer of help, and picked up her crutches.

“Let’s go,” she said, before adding, “Thank you,” to the nurse.

* * *

“Are you all right?” asked Nathan, hurrying to keep up with her as Jessica raced down the hospital corridors on her crutches.

Jessica stopped. “Of course I’m not all right,” she snapped. “How could I possibly be all right?”

“I’ve seen feet in a lot worse condition when a cast has just been taken off,” soothed Nathan. “It’ll look a lot better after a good soak in a bath and some moisturiser.”

Jessica took a deep breath. She didn’t want to argue with Nathan, and she appreciated that he was only trying to be nice. It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t understand.

“You’re right,” she said. “Thanks.”

Nathan drove Jessica back to his place. They spent the journey in silence, plans for her rehabilitation going round and round Jessica’s head.

Nathan parked in his driveway and came around to help Jessica out.

“What do you want to do for the rest of the day?” Nathan asked, handing her her crutches.

“Actually,” Jessica said, “would you mind if I headed off? That bath sounds like a really good idea and I sort of want to be by myself for a while.”

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