[Emi] Walk

Walk



It's been just a few days since the accident now. I don't even remember what happened. All I remember is waking up in the hospital, both of my legs missing. I sobbed, but there were no tears to come with them. I was emotional, but the feelings were all so dull. Dad's gone. My legs are gone. All I have left is Mom and the various medications that I'm on, being used to keep me stablized after just recently coming out of surgery. The last memory I have of the accident is what happened right before it. A pick up truck swerving left an right on a country road, coming in the opposite direction of us. Dad was busy talking to me about our daily run that we took together every morning, apparently not seeing the drunk driver approaching on the other side of the road. Next thing you know, well... I'm sure you can figure out what happened next. After that, I simply blacked out until about four days ago. I haven't been able to get out of bed or anything, not even in a wheelchair; the doctors are too worried it could create an issue with the current medications that I have in my body.

So, as hours tick by, I'm still not moving around. I haven't even spoke to my Mom yet, as the nurse told me that she refused to see me in my current condition. I really wish she would just come see me anyways, even if it pains her to see me like this. It would be more satisfying than laying in bed, staring at this white textured ceiling with absolutely no emotion. That's all I've really done since I woke up; force myself to eat a little bit of food, then stare somewhere. That somewhere could range from out the window to the ceiling that has me trapped in this damn hospital. I just want to go back to my old life, the life where I could actually run, a life where I knew I wasn't going to have to wake up everyday knowing that my father's dead instead of me. Why couldn't it have been me? Sure, it would have been more emotionally painful for him and Mom, but they could have easily just moved on with their lives. Now... now I have to grow up, learning to walk again, without Dad there to help me every step along the way.

As thoughts continue to flood my mind, my room nurse comes in, tapping her fist gently on the door to make sure that I was awake and alert. She enters and sees that I am indeed up, looking at her with some curiosity as to why she was here so early in the morning.

"Hello there Ibarazaki, how are we feeling this morning?" She really is a nice, kind hearted lady. Konachi, the name she introduced herself with, generally comes in and checks on me and my medication a good two to three times a day. She's a very busy lady though, as she covers the majority of this floor of the hopsital. She always comes in after her shift is over for the day and talks to me for a good ten minutes before heading home. I guess that's really the only thing I've been looking forward to every day that I've been here.

"I'm feeling good this morning, Konachi. You always make my day much better when you walk through my door!" It's an honest answer; as soon as I hear that gentle knock on my door, a grin, even if I'm in a bit of pain, finds its way onto my lips. As weird as it sounds, her little questions go a long way. Maybe that's because Dad would always ask me simple questions on days that I was down, sick or just in an awful mood. Those small things just happen to always help me feel better about myself, knowing that someone actually cares about me. Now, back to the matter at hand.

"What brings you here so early this morning, Konachi?" A legitimate question. She generally doesn't come in for at least another two hours, mainly because that's when I need to take my medications. But this morning, she's really early, so I'm not sure whether she's bringing me good or bad news.

"I'm here to bring you some good news, dear!" She takes a quick pause to make sure she's getting the news 100% correct, simply because if it wasn't right, her job would be at risk. "You've been cleared by the doctors and surgeons to begin your rehabilitation today! Isn't that wonderful?"

Hmm. Rehabilitation. A word I thought people only really correlated with drug abusers and alcoholics. I guess it's used for more than just that. But, what am I going to be doing in rehab? I mean, I had my legs removed, am I going to just learn how to use a wheelchair for the rest of my life?

"Konachi, what exactly am I going to be doing in rehabilitation? Don't get me wrong, I'm excited to finally be able to get out of this bed, but... what exactly is rehab supposed to mean to me?" I don't really get it. I figure I might as well get the answers out of her, rather than just go into this thing blind.

"It means, Ibarazaki, that you'll be learning to walk with prosthetic legs. With a little bit of work and practice, you'll be out of here walking on your own again!" I normally would say this sounds great, but at the current time, it makes me feel terrible. I'll be learning to walk with artificial limbs, something used to replace what used to be there... something that could have been avoided. All I had to do was just tell Dad what I saw happening on the road that night, but I just assumed he saw it. Turns out that I was dead wrong. "Also, your mother is ready to see you now that you can finally leave your room. She's been sleeping out in the guest waiting room for the past few days until you would finally be able to come out and actually see her."

"Can we go see her now? I... I really want to talk to her again." I'm on the verge of tears. I can't stand to face Mom, knowing that I'm the reason her husband is dead. There's that word again. Dead. I still can't come to grips that he'll never be here with me again, not here to-

"Of course we can. Let me help you into a wheelchair. We'll go visit your mother, then she can come along with us to your rehab assignment. Just think, Emi, in a few weeks you'll be walking naturally again!"

There's nothing natural about walking with prosthetic legs. Looks like I'm just going to have to start from scratch again.

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"Walk" is a song by the Foo Fighters.