Page 46 of Revive Me

Roman exhales a heavy breath and looks out into space. “I don’t know, I guess the parts that came before gait training were just easier to deal with. They weren’teasy, per se, but most days, I could think of regaining sensation as exciting, or strength training as familiar. But when I had to practicestandingbecause my balance was off, and I got dizzy even being upright…it really punched me in the face how fucked up I was. I mean, I was literally working on the same skills as aone-year-old. And failing at it.”

I nod my understanding as I pull my knees up and wrap my arms around them. Roman’s admission doesn’t surprise me, because it’s a fairly normal reaction for SCI patients to have. There’s something about learning to walk that humbles even the strongest patients.

But getting Roman to talk about this is a critical step in moving him along in his therapy. Unless I know where his head’s at, he could very well give up on me like he has for every other PT he’s worked with.

“Do you think being prepared for that feeling might make it easier this time around?”

He rubs his chest absentmindedly as he mulls over my question. “Maybe,” he says finally. “It’s possible that feeling like I was blind-sided by it last time made everything worse.”

“Most likely.” I hesitate for a moment before adding, “I think we should have a plan for how to deal with that feeling, though. Even if it’s a plan of whatnotto do. Because it could very well happen this time around too.”

Roman’s gaze slides over to me, our eyes locking. “Is this where you tell me I should try therapy again?”

I shrug. “I think everyone could benefit from therapy. And yes, this is a perfect example of a situation where talking to a professional psychologist would be immeasurably helpful. But no, that’s not what I was getting at.”

Roman’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “Then what are you getting at?”

Tightening my hold on my knees, I nervously chew on my bottom lip before finally admitting, “I’d feel better if we came up with some healthy coping strategies for you. Clearly, gait training is a stressor, and the last thing I want you to do is lose all your progress because you have a really bad day and go into a spiral.”

Understanding dawns on his face. “Meaning, don’t turn to my usual vices.”

I wince. “It’s just…you do so much better when you’re not chain-smoking or hungover and actually doing your therapy between our sessions. Plus, you didn’t show up for aweekthe last time things…went wrong.”

The time I made you hard with a massage and you got so freaked out that I thought I’d never see you again.

I don’t say that, but I can see by Roman’s expression that he knows exactly what I’m referring to. What’s worse is, it reinforces my point about him spiraling when things go wrong in his therapy.

Roman looks away from me, his throat bobbing. “Okay, yes, I pick things that are bad for my health to deal with failure. What exactly would you like me to do instead? Take up knitting as a form of stress relief?”

Surprisingly, his sarcasm is a relief. Sarcasm is better than lashing out.

“I was thinking more along the lines of horror movies.”

His eyes snap back to mine, his brow furrowed. “What is this, another reward system?”

I shake my head. “Not exactly. But you need to have something healthy to turn to when you inevitably have a bad therapy session, and escapism is a common stress relief tactic.” My mouth curves into an amused grin. “Psychologists might argue that watching people get killed and mutilated shouldn’t be classified as stress relief, but I was attempting to relate to my current audience.”

Roman’s own lip quirks with a reluctant smile. “There arewaytoo many true crime junkies for that to be true.”

I chuckle softly as I lean back and brace my hands on the floor. “Hey, I agree with you. Personally, I enjoy a little cannibal love story to wind down after a long day.”

Roman’s face twists with confusion. “What movie wasthat?”

“Bones and All. Sogood.”

There’s a pause before he responds with, “Okay, the psychologists might be right about this one.”

I throw my head back with a laugh. “Fine, pick another coping strategy, then.”

My word choice causes some of the levity to drain from our conversation, the mood between us sobering as Roman considers my request.

“I’ll think about it,” he says finally.

Which I’m actually thrilled to hear. It means he’s taking this seriously.

“Deal,” I say with a smile. “You think about it, and then next week, we’ll start the next phase of your therapy. And we’ll work through whatever comes. Together.”

Something changes in his expression, something that’s there and gone too fast for me to read.

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