AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Day three sans cast and I’m ready to own this session like it’s one of my rehearsals. Eight excruciating weeks in a full leg cast with a broken femur is no holiday.
The moment I woke up in the hospital hooked up to several machines and breathing through an oxygen mask was frightening. I had no recollection of my arrival. I couldn’t move without immense pain shooting through my hip and right leg.
Once I’d settled enough, and a new round of pain medicine was administered, I went in and out of consciousness for most of the night, fatigue taking control.
I’d arrived in the hospital unconscious with suspected lower vertebrate or hip damage and a broken leg. After my scan results came back, I was cleared of any back injury, brain injury, and along with a confirmed broken fibula (lower leg), it showed that I had a hip fracture, which meant my upper femur was also damaged and required surgery.
I spent two weeks in the hospital. During that time, my mind wandered, thinking of my time in professional dance, and how I wanted to prove everyone wrong. Determined that I would get my chance to be on stage once again. Not only did I hope, I prayed. I prayed every night in bed until my agent—no less—rang me to give me the earth-shattering news; if it wasn’t enough to be pulled from a wreck—I was humiliated and fired via a phone call.
I’m pulled from my recollection by something soft rubbing against my leg. Looking down, there’s the cutest puppy I’ve ever seen!
“Hello there, cutie. What are you doing here?” I ask the little dog. Looking at the color of his collar, I assume it’s a boy.
Yap.He barks at me. “You’re so, so cute. Where have you come from, huh? I haven’t seen you around here before.”Yap yap. The miniature dachshund turns his head toward the door to answer my question while barking again.
“Well, I suppose you can hang out with me here. I’m sure whoever you belong to will come looking for you.” The little guy places his front paws on my good leg as if to ask for some pats. Extending my arm, I let my hand glide over his little head, scratching behind his ears and down the length of his neck.
While I’m lost in the cuteness of my new friend, I miss the person coming through the door. “I see you’ve found a new friend,” Mrs. M states with delight in her tone.
“More like he found me. Do you know who he belongs to?” I ask, hoping he’s not going to be lost for too long.
“Asher isn’t lost, honey. He lives here.” She looks at me with a twinkle in her eye. I’m puzzled, which must show on my face. “It’s okay for him to be here if you want him here.”
I would love nothing more for him to stay, but it still doesn’t answer my question of who he belongs to.
“If he’s allowed to be here, does he not belong to a patient yet?” I ask, eager for her to tell me I can work with him.
“Oh, he’s not a working pup, honey. He belongs to the boss. Usually, he wanders around with Mr. Fort. He’s never come into the rehab building before on his own. It seems like someone has sensed someone else could use a friend.”
As I stop petting Asher he backs away from my good leg. Trotting around my wheelchair, he comes to sit next to my healing leg, facing Mrs. M but twisting his head around to look back at me, as if to say he’s ready. “You’re a clever boy, aren’t you?”Yap.
“Asher, Evelyn is going to need you today, buddy. Can you encourage her to try her best?”Yap yap yap.“Good boy.”
I laugh at the state of this session. Who knew we’d be having conversations with a miniature dachshund called Asher today?Not me.
I mentally prepare myself as Mrs. M gets my regime underway. Before I’m remotely ready for my inner pep-talk, Asher is yapping again.
“Sounds like he’s giving you words of encouragement, Eve, before you’ve had a chance by the looks of things.” She chuckles at that.
I have a ritual before every physio session. I close my eyes and envision myself achieving my goal. Today’s objective is to independently pull myself up and out of my chair using the parallel bars. Once there, I’m to place both feet flat on the floor and stand, taking as much weight off my arms as possible, using my legs to hold me up, which will also encourage the muscles in my femur to strengthen.
We’ve practiced this many times over the past two weeks, but the difference is I had a cast on then and could only put limited amounts of pressure on it without affecting my hip’s healing ability. Up until now, my PT sessions were focused on keeping my hips active by strengthening them both equally so the injured side could start healing accordingly.
“Okay, Asher. Let’s see if I can do this. You ready, bud? Because I’m scared.”
With every question or statement, I get a different tone of his bark or little yap. I think I’ve gotten a smile out of him already, too.
Bringing my focus back to the task at hand, I gather my strength and wheel my chair over to the parallel bars. Looking up at them is what I’d imagine five-year-old me would have been like on the monkey bars in the school playground. Petrified.
Blocking out my fears the best I can, I get a little nudge from Asher–his wet nose brushes against the exposed skin of my ankle.
“It’s now or never, right, bud?” As I look from Asher to the edge of the bar and back again, his beady eyes encourage me to pull myself out of my chair.
Holding my breath, I use all my upper body strength, resting my forearms along the bars so I can evenly distribute my weight.
“Well done, Evelyn. Now make sure your legs are placed evenly and use them to take some of the weight from your arms. Don’t be afraid to use your good leg too, your hips will cope with the pressure.” Scared, I do as she suggests ever so slowly. “Good job,” Mrs. M praises me. “Slowly, keep letting pressure off those arms. Good, just like that.”
I look down to see Asher now in front of me, wagging his whole body in excitement.
