Page 147 of Frozen Flames

“I think he’s doing great.” She squeezes my hand. “I didn’t expect him to get better overall so soon, but I did wonder…abouthis confidence. The way he sees himself worries me. I guess I wonder if there’s anything I can do to help.”

Dr. Lee seems to ponder her question. “I think you’re helping him plenty. The way he sees himself is a result of the accident, and with time, he’ll be able to work on that and the situation will ameliorate. Healing isn’t linear. It has mountains and valleys and can take you all over the place. But I’m pretty adamant that time can help heal most wounds.”

Claire nods, and Dr. Lee continues. “He’s improving. He’s changing habits that no longer serve him, and therein lies his power.”

It feels weird being talked about in third person as if I’m not here. But if this is what Claire needs, then I’m all in.

That Saturday night, I’m in bed, completely and wholeheartedly exhausted. Work was difficult this week. It was harder for me to be social, and PT was even more challenging.

McKleen’s been pushing me, and I’m essentially walking around the rehab center with my new collapsible crutches. The goal is to lead me toward ambulation and ultimately to use my wheelchair only when necessary. We’ve been working on this the past few months.

I’ve been going up and down the stairs with handrails in the building on my crutches, and some days my best is top-notch and other days my best looks much different.

Even though I should’ve been able to walk again post-accident with rehab, I had lost all hope that it would actually happen for me, that I’d be walking around on crutches with ease.

Stefan keeps telling me to let go of the thoughts that say I look ridiculous on crutches, instead telling myself that this might lead me to walk again somewhat normally someday.

He’s not wrong.

Weirdly, it feels strange to use them instead of my wheelchair. As if I’m the puppet of a show and everybody’s watching my next act.

My next fall.

I’ve walked without crutches before at home, so they’re there for safety until I know for sure that I can walk longer distances without using them.

The stairs though? They’re challenging.

Not only am I out of shape endurance-wise, but my bone density and muscle mass are shit at this point.

I’m essentially starting from ground zero.

After a few years of minimal activity and limited movement, my body literally screams at me to stop and sit down. But I focus on the fact that I’m now walking around with more stability and that the stairs will strengthen my muscles.

Before falling asleep, I think over my joint therapy session with Claire and our short conversation as she drove me home. Once she dropped me off, we hugged, but that was it.

I know that this is what I asked of her, but it sucks. So I reminisce about our memories together to keep me satisfied until I can see her again.

Harvey

Summer’s finally here.

And this summer feels hopeful.

I’ve been keeping up with solo therapy, and have had two more sessions with Claire. Dr. Lee’s impressed with my progress. McKleen told me how proud he was of me last week. My ability to move has increased tenfold, and I’m energized by it. To top it all off, following my doctor’s recommendations, I’ve slowly decreased the dose of one of my medications, since I felt I no longer needed it.

I feel great.

It’s like all that anger is slowly transforming into movement and creativity and plain good vibes.

I’m ready for the next chapter in my life.

To move on with Claire, should she still want me, and to fully let go of all the pain and hurt that the accident and my relationship with Gemma brought me, especially toward the end.

Maybe that’s why it couldn’t work out.

Our relationship was a daily reminder of what I had lost, and I couldn’t bear it.

I owe Dr. Lee a lot, though, for helping me slowly see the mistakes I made as well so that I can learn from them.

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