My Roommate

Chapter 43

⚠️⚠️⚠️trigger warning⚠️⚠️⚠️

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Evan's POV—

Slowly upward.

And then slowly downward.

The gravity trying to pull my leg downward as I lift it up.

And gravity trying to pull my leg downward too quickly as I try to control the movements.

It's day two of my physical therapy, and I have yet to be discharged from the hospital.

The plan is to hopefully get me back home by Saturday if my test results still continue to imply that there are no further indications of any complications.

I've had scans done a couple of times already since I first woke up.

And so far, everything is perfectly fine.

However, me being discharged from the hospital also depends on other things despite having scans that checks out.

For instance, I need to be able to walk on my own and do other various tasks on my own as well.

Thus all of this physical and occupational therapy.

But Dr. Whitlock said that with how things are looking, and given the fact that I'm young and that the subdural hematoma was dealt with immediately once it was recognized, I have a very high chance of making a full recovery.

Of getting back to how I was before it all happened—which is something I'm definitely happy about.

"You're moving your legs pretty well," my physical therapist, Leona, says.

"They still feel really heavy, though," I tell her as I manage to slowly bring my leg down to the floor, letting it hang over the edge of the hospital bed with my other leg once it's down.

"Well, that's normal. It may take a while for you to get your full strength back...wanna try standing?" Leona suggests.

"Sure, why not," is all I can say as I go to stand up. I barely even move an inch before she slips a walker in front of me.

"Do I really have to use a walker?"

"Yes," is all she says to me, firmly.

"Fine..." I groan as I finally manage to stand up—or at least try to.

It takes me a second to actually lift myself up from the bed. My arms and legs, and body just in general, feel completely heavy and useless. The second I manage to get my feet under me, and stand up, I wobble a little and immediately reach for the parallel bars on the walker—desperately wanting to stay up right. Leona immediately braces her hand on the bar across from me on the walker, leaning against it to keep the walker in place.

A small headache forms as I lean against the walker for support, small throbs of pain shooting through my head around where they literally cut my head open.

"How are you feeling?" Leona asks me, still pressing down on the bar across from me on the walker.

"The movement made my head start hurting, and my entire body feels completely weak...but otherwise, I'm fine," I say as I grit my teeth, my legs threatening to collapse.

"Well. If your head is hurting, we need to call it a day for now. Doing any more, like trying to walk right now might make you feel dizzy and that won't help at all," she tells me.

When I don't move, she pretty much orders me to get back in bed.

"I hate being in bed, though," I complain as I do as she says.