Chapter 9: Sarah

The next morning a new physical therapist came for her first visit. The first of many. And I knew the moment I saw her that I would hate every single one. She just looked severe. There wasn't a soft edge to the woman, and when she opened her mouth, she only confirmed my suspicion.

"Hey, Sarah. I'm Karen." She had a tight red bun perched at the crown of her head, and her nose was as straight as her thin lips. Frankly, she was a bit scary.

"I'm not going to like this, am I?" I didn't mean to sound ornery right off the bat, but she could have given me a little friendlier introduction, one that consisted of more than four words.

Her green eyes met mine, and her pupils were tiny. The way she looked through me sent a shiver up my spine. "Not if you're looking for an easy fix." Well, that was pointed. "But if you're serious about the possibility of regaining mobility, then you'll suck it up and put in the work." Karen gave me the once over, and apparently didn't seem to think I was up for the task. "You need to be committed one-hundred percent. If not, you're wasting my time and yours."

I didn't even know what I was committing to being all in for, but I was afraid to tell Karen no. I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood and nodded.

"I hoped you would be because today we're getting you upright and taking some steps." She flipped open her clipboard and clicked the end of her pen. She checked off a few boxes and then set it all down on a table.

She had to be joking. No one believed I'd ever walk again, much less a couple of months after the accident. This couldn't be right, but I refused to open my mouth to challenge her, either.

"Today we're going to work on some basics. I know you're in pain, but you're going to need to figure out how to harness that into motivation. I want to push you right to the edge of unbearable." Her eyes met mine, and for a second, there was a softness there. "You with me?" She didn't really leave any room for argument.

"I can try." I wasn't convinced, and my tone conveyed that. It wasn't that I didn't want to be up and moving. I did. But nothing worked right on my body, and I had an immobilizer on my back that made me stiff as a board.

But when I set aside all the excuses, the only one that I had left was fear. Up until this point, it had all been speculation. No one knew for certain what my body might do. This was the pivotal point. This was where I found out what kind of courage and strength I really had...and I was worried it wouldn't be enough.

Karen didn't give me an inch and certainly didn't attend my pity party for one. She pulled out what looked like a giant green rubber band. "Here's how we're going to start."

When Karen left an hour later, my whole body felt like it was on fire. There was not a part of me that didn't hurt, ache, or burn-and not in that good way that made me feel like I'd accomplished something. I didn't think the staff would give me enough narcotics to make the rest of the day bearable. And I knew it wasn't over. Karen wouldn't be the only therapist that graced me with her presence today. I wasn't that lucky.