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“I think it’s time for a little nap, dear. You just heard what the doctor said about making your own health the priority. Maybe taking his advice would be a good idea?”
Even though she asked it like a question, I knew the woman well enough to know she was really making her opinion known with the remark. She wasn’t nearly as clever as she thought. The tactic worked better when I was a boy and a lot more naïve.
“Trust me, Mom. No one wants to be up and out of this bed more than me,” I said to appease her and, for whatever it was worth, to start planting seeds of positivity in my own mind. I knew that doctor made good points, even if he looked young enough to be one of my students.
Currently, I couldn’t feel anything below my hips. On either side. The fucker hit me at the perfect spot and caused trauma to my spinal cord. My doctor, despite being a baby, was well known throughout the orthopedic community. He expected me to regain sensations gradually as the swelling around my spinal cord decreased.
In the meantime, a torturous physical therapist named Mara worked with me twice a day to maintain my muscle tone and range of motion. The woman was a ballbuster, and even though she was no bigger in stature than Maye, she was strong and tenacious. Every time I complained or gave up on an exercise, she’d bark at me about not quitting and urge me to stay the course. I hated those damn sessions every day. Two times each day I got an hour-long reminder about how weak and pathetic and dependent I was.
Dependent.
Even thinking that word made me want to pull the covers over my head, settle in for a good sleep—and never wake up. If the cops didn’t catch that little bastard and throw him in jail, I swore I’d handle things myself.
As soon as I could piss on my own, of course. My mother’s shuffling beside my bed made me snap out of my brood. When I looked her way, she had her things packed in the two gigantic tote bags she’d been lugging through the door every morning, and she leaned down to peck my cheek.
“Rest, Andrew. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Mom…” I started to tell her she didn’t have to come sit here every day but stopped short. The truth was I wanted her to come visit me. If I had to endure this bullshit all alone, I’d surely lose my mind.
“What is it?” she asked when I didn’t say more.
“I love you. And thank you—for everything,” I choked out through a wad of emotion jammed in my throat, making it difficult to breathe, let alone speak. Unshed tears clouded my vision, so I let my lids close slowly and rest there.
“Oh, honey,” she said in the sweetest mom voice of all time. It made the misery in my heart ache even more. “We’re going to get through this, I know it. Please keep the faith, okay?” She stroked my greasy hair off my forehead, reminding me I needed a shower but couldn’t do that for myself either.
My day nurse, Carrie, said it would be easier for the night nurse to help me with a shower since he was much stronger than she was. At the time, I had no interest in getting out of bed, but now a hot shower sounded like a luxury I’d do anything to enjoy.
“Carrie said Marlin could help me shower tonight. I’ll be better tomorrow when you see me,” I promised, as if she was judging me for my appearance.
“Don’t overdo it. Mara was pretty tough on you today. Maybe save the shower for tomorrow. But of course, that’s up to you.” She hiked the one tote higher on her shoulder and said, “Okay, dear, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She gave me another quick kiss, and I watched until the door quietly nestled into its frame.
Like before, when I closed my eyes to get some sleep, my mind started its usual race. I gave up after only a few minutes, knowing how this routine ended every other time. Beneath the covers, I fingered the cellphone beside my thigh and gave in to the temptation.
Her number was first on the recently dialed list. Even though we hadn’t spoken in a couple of days, it wasn’t for the lack of trying on my part. I promised myself as the call connected that if I went to her voicemail, I’d preserve whatever was left of my dignity and not leave another plaintive message to call or visit. A man could only grovel so much.
“Hello?” she said so quietly I quickly checked the volume setting on the phone.
“Hey. It— It’s Andrew.” As if she didn’t know that from the caller ID. Idiot.
“Hi. How are you feeling?” she whispered and quickly added, “Give me a minute to go outside.”
Interesting. Where was she that she had to go outside? I waited through some shuffling and strained to make out any background sounds I could hear that might clue me in to her location.
Finally, she said in a normal conversational volume, “There. That’s better.”
I paused for a moment too long, and she said, “Are you still there? Oh no, did I drop you?”
“No, baby, I’m here.” I sighed with more contentment than I’d felt in days. “I’m just soaking in the sound of your voice. I miss seeing you so much, Maye.”
“Awww, I miss you too,” she replied. But then excitedly proceeded to say, “I have exciting news! I’m an auntie!”
“Well, congratulations, that’s great.” I barely got the response out before she rushed to tell me all the details.
“My oldest sister, Hannah, had her very first baby early this morning. It’s a girl, and my God, Andrew, she’s the most beautiful little angel you’ve ever seen. I’ll send you a pic if you want to see?”
“Of course I do.” My God, I loved hearing her so happy and full of life. My own mood was immediately improved just from basking in her joy. My phone vibrated, and I pulled it back from my ear to sneak a quick peek at the photo.
“She’s beautiful, baby. I trust everyone is well?” I had no experience with births, but I was pretty confident that was the right thing to ask.
