Mouse

chapter twenty three

Ricardo was used to pushing his body to the limits, with being a circus performer, so when they started the physical therapy a few weeks after the operation, he knew he could handle it.

But what he couldn't handle, was how slow his progress would take.

A lot of it was two steps forward, and one step back, then he became impatient and frustrated with himself and everyone else around him..

I was used to his temperament, and didn't really mind of he sometimes got snappy with me.

But I found it more embarrassing when he was rude to the hospital staff who were trying to help him.

So I decided to try and reason with him one day, after he had a go at one particular female therapist who had been helping him in his latest session, which obviously hadn't gone too well because she firmly refused to let him push himself further than she thought necessary and he was not too happy about it.

"You know this is not the circus, you just can't be rude and yell at people and expect them to just take it," I told him in a quiet calm voice in an attempt to appease his mood and make him see sense

"Well it would help if they knew what the hell they were doing, but they don't" Ricardo scowled

"That's what I mean, you can't say things like that," I objected with a small frown, "They are paid professionals, and they must know what they are doing, but just because they don't agree with you, it doesn't make them wrong" I hissed

"What you know about anything? it not you stuck in this bed day in day out, I am just sick to death of this place now, I just want out of here"

"I can understand that-" I tried to sooth him; but didn't get any further

"No you don't!" he snapped turning to me and eyeing me almost savagely, "You can just get up and walk out of here anytime you like; so you couldn't possibly understand what I am going through"

I found myself falling silent, unable to argue, and realising he probably had a point

He now rubbed his hand over his face in weary frustration, attempting to calm himself down. Then he let out a loud huff of a sigh as he stared at the ceiling overhead

"You have no idea what its like," he then said in a much quieter tone, but I realised it was still filled with suppressed emotion

"When I go to sleep. I dream I can walk, or even better, that I am on the trapeze soaring in the air, free like a bird in flight... because that's how it feels; Then when I wake up and find myself in this bed, trapped in this body, and this is my reality.. my nightmare, and I just want it to end,"

He now turned to look at me again, and I could see the bleakness in his eyes, "Sometimes it feels like it never will," he then admitted

I started to feel my heart sink. because it was something I never ever thought I would have had to witness, seeing him of all people cut so low, and almost sounding defeated, it was so unlike the arrogant proud Ricardo I was used to, it made me feel uneasy for him..

And despite all that had happened between us, I didn't like to see him like this; I didn't want to see him like this.. it just didn't feel right.

Now I grabbed his hand squeezing it comfortingly, "But it will end," I attempted to reassure him,

"Perhaps it's not as quick as we all would like right now. But the doctors and nurses know what your body is capable of coping with.. they just don't want you trying to push yourself too much so that you end up doing more damage and you are back to square one, and that's the last thing you want?" I then pointed out