Finally Home

84. Tyler

Samantha was somewhere between angry, scared and sad. And I couldn't help her.

The first day she was awake, she refused to see anyone. Jenna had texted Erin and told her what had happened. Sam wouldn't let Jill come visit.

"Sam, you can't cut everyone out," I said. "People care about you and want to visit you."

She put her pillow over her face and screamed into it.

"Why can't everyone leave me alone?!" She cried.

"Because, we love you. And we know this isn't you. You need some time to process. We know and accept that."

She frowned at me and turned her head away. I sighed.

I'd tried to make Jenna go home to sleep, but she wouldn't. The two of us took turns sitting up with Samantha. The nurses gave her something to help her sleep and that seemed to be the only real rest she got the night we told her about her leg.

The next morning she woke up seemingly normal. Then she looked down at her leg and frowned.  A few tears showed in her eyes.

She was less combative when her breakfast came. But she still picked at the food.

At nine, the doctor came in.

"Good morning," he said cheerfully.  Samantha frowned at him and crossed her arms.

"Okay. Maybe not. So, Samantha. How are you feeling this morning?"

Samantha's frown deepened.

"I'm feeling great. Just peachy. Who wouldn't after losing their leg?"

"Samantha, don't be rude," Jenna said. Samantha frowned at her.

"Samantha," the doctor said, sitting on her bed. "We did everything we could to save your leg. Too much muscle had started dying. You would have been back here within a few weeks in a lot more pain. And we wouldn't have had a choice at that point. As it is, we had to take two inches above your knee. Any longer we may have had to take your leg at the hip joint. At least this way, you'll be able to be fitted for a prosthetic."

"I'd rather my own damn leg," she said.

"Watch your tone, young lady," Jenna said.

Sam glared at her.

"Well, Samantha, I'm sorry. That just wasn't possible. But these days, there are incredible advancements in technology. You will be able to play basketball again. And run. And do a lot of the things you used to do."

Samantha wouldn't look at the doctor. 

He explained more about the surgery and showed Samantha the drain and explained what it was and why. I couldn't be sure Samantha was listening.

When the doctor left Samantha cried silently. It broke my heart because I couldn't fix this. I couldn't put her leg back on.

Jenna and I let her cry for a while. She needed to process her emotions.

Josh and Brendon would bring us food because we couldn't leave Samantha. Well, wouldn't.

For two days she wouldn't let anyone visit. Josh and Debby would bring Rosie and Sarah and Brendon. Sam would let Rosie in, barely. Almost grudgingly. But no one else. The four of them would sit outside Sam's room for hours hoping they could visit. Sam would get angry and tell us to tell them to leave. They wouldn't. Not right away, but eventually they would.

Sam barely spoke in the first few days. Beyond telling people to go away.

She fought her nurses with every I.V. change, sponge bath and catheter and bandage change. She fought meal times. She fought taking insulin. She fought everything.

She still kept saying she wanted to die and to just leave her alone and let her die.

We called Dr. Freud. She needed him.

She raved the morning he walked into her room. She yelled and screamed and told him to leave. She screamed at us for not listening to her. She screamed at Doc telling him he was useless and he couldn't help with this. He was so patient. He let her rage and scream. I stood outside the door with Jenna and let the nurses know she was fine.

"She'll get over this," Angela, her day nurse said, sympathetically as she came by with a new I.V. bag she'd change out after Doc left.

"I know. But I just hate how there's so little we can do about this right now. She's so angry," I said.

"It's a big change. I know you know that."

I nodded.

"I just don't know the best way to help her. I don't know what to say. Nothing I say, nothing we say, helps. She's shutting everyone out."

Angela nodded, patted my shoulder and hugged Jenna.

"It's going to take time. But she'll come around."

Angela went about her duties as Doc came out of Sam's room and puffed out his cheeks.

"That is one angry young lady," he said. I nodded.

"Well," he said. "She's grieving. That's what this is, really. She's grieving the loss of her leg and the loss of the life she thought she was going to have. She needs to come to terms with this. And she will. You know she will. It's going to take time. Obviously. She needs visitors and people to remind her how loved she is."

"She won't let anyone visit."

"Don't give her a choice. Let the visitors in. She'll be angry anyway, but she needs to be forced to see her life, although significantly changed physically, hasn't actually ended. I'm going to do a little research into disabled athletes. Show her that sports are still a possibility."

"I was thinking the same thing," I said.

It gave me an idea and I made a mental note to make a couple of phone calls.

Jenna and I went back into Sam's room. Her eyes were closed. We doubted she was sleeping but we stayed quiet and sat beside her bed. Jenna was reading a novel, and I was sending some texts.

"I'm going to go make a couple of phone calls," I said to Jenna who nodded.