Injured

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

     The doctor said four days. I was in a coma for 4 days. He said it was a wonder that I wasn’t in one for a longer time.

     My mom sat in the overstuffed chair across the isle from my hospital bed. Her head drooped over. She must have stayed awake waiting on me for a long time. I wanted to tell her that I was okay, but two things kept me from it. One, I would be lying. I was hooked up to all sorts of machines, and I had a terrible headache. The second, I couldn’t talk. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t open my mouth or even make a sound.

     I tried to move my hand and was surprised that I could easily open and close it. My mouth just did not want to do anything. Just then the doctor walked in and noticed that I was awake.

     He smiled at me and gave me a look as if to ask if he should wake up my mom or not. I nodded, and he mirrored my movement. He gently shook my mom and she jumped awake.

     Her eyes had bags underneath them, and she was breathing heavily, a key sign that she had recently been sobbing. She looked at me with the same blue eyes she had passed onto me. They were actually more grey than they were blue. She put her arm on my leg and started rubbing it. “How are you feeling, baby?” She asked me, almost close to tears.

     The doctor gave my mother a serious look. “It’s time to talk about how bad off Daniel is, Mrs. Walker.”

     My mother sighed heavily, and I held my breath, scared of what he was going to say. I had survived this much. I prayed that I wasn’t going to die.

     “Daniel has had some damage done to his frontal lobe of the brain. More specifically, his Broca’s area. This controls his speech. I’m not sure how easily he will be able to learn to talk again, but he will basically need to go through therapy in order to control his vocal cords again.”

     “So he can’t speak?” My mom asked. “Well, that’s a relief, it could have been much worse.”

     “This isn’t an issue to be taken lightly, Mrs. Walker.” He scolded. “Even if Daniel is able to learn to talk again, it won’t be the same. He will likely have a speech impediment. Even more likely, he will develop aphasia. This will cause him to be unable to make coherent sentences and understand words.”

     Mom looked like she was about to cry. “Can he understand us?”

     “Well, you can see for yourself.” He gestured to me and gave me a wink.

     I nodded to my mom and gave her a reassuring smile. She seemed a bit more confident after that.

     “Is there anything else?” she asked, prepared for the worst.

     “He has a broken tibia on his left leg but that should heal in about two months. We’ll put on the cast in a few hours. However, his hip was damaged in the crash and he will have to go to physical therapy in order to get his strength back.” He stood up to leave, but then remembered something. “Oh! I almost forgot.” He pulled a small device resembling an iPad out of his pocket and handed it to me. He saw my quizzical look and said, “This is your translator. We’re going to put you in physical and speech therapy, but until you learn to talk independently, just type what you want to say here, and it will say it for you.”

     I typed and a robotic voice said, “Thank you,”

     The doctor smiled and nodded. Then he left.

     I wasn’t too happy with the idea that I was going to have to learn how to talk again. I was even less thrilled with the fact that a robot had to do it for me until I could.

     My mom gave me a half-hearted smile. “Get some sleep honey,”

     I obeyed.

I wasn’t expecting things to be much more different at school. I had to stay in a wheelchair because I had my leg cast and was only one week into my physical therapy. I went up the wheelchair ramp and was given dirty looks by some people just passing by. I looked around to try and find Cole. He was let out of the hospital the day after because he only had a minor concussion and fractured his wrist.

     I saw him, and he looked over. I flagged him down and he came over to meet me. Everyone in our group gave me a weird look. Cole seemed a bit awkward, but I didn’t think anything of it. It wasn’t until Rebecca opened her big fat mouth that I realized something was off.

     “Can… you… understand… me?” She asked, holding out each word like I was stupid.

     I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Unfortunately.” The robotic voice said in monotone. The guys all gave “oohs” at the burn, and the girls began to snicker.

     “Glad to have you back, buddy,” Cole slapped me on the back.

     I moved forward and tried to hold in a whimper, but of course, nothing came out.

     I rolled through the hallway and noticed people staring at me. Did I really look that different? I looked at a mirror hanging up. No. I still had my blue eyes, strong jaw line, and short brown hair that I had gelled up for the day. I was still the Daniel that was in control of the school two weeks ago, but now, I’m in a wheelchair, and I can’t speak.

     Things didn’t start getting bad until first block. I didn’t have any of my main group with me in there, but it was never really a problem.

     The teacher was giving me more attention than before. I heard whispers in the back of the class, and someone in the back even hit me with a paper ball. I wanted to yell. But I couldn’t.

     I scooted out of the classroom as quickly as possible and tried to bear through the next three classes until lunch came around. I pushed my wheelchair into the crowded cafeteria. I went to sit in my normal place, which, I was surprised to find, was already full. My heart dropped. I didn’t even bother to talk to them.

     I turned around and looked for a place to sit. All the cliques were already sitting together. Soon, people were gathered around me trying to figure out what was wrong with me. Some asked me if I needed help. The kept pestering me until I just wanted to go home, but someone spoke out.

     “Guys, back off,” A female voice shouted through the crowd. “He’s okay. Just leave him alone.”

     Sure enough, the crowd dispersed, and I was left to look at the girl with curled blonde hair who had just rescued me from humiliation. “Thanks,” I typed.

     “No problem,” She smiled. “My little brother stays in a wheelchair. I know how crowded it can be.”

     I nodded to her. “My name’s Daniel.” I typed.

     “I know,” she blushed. “I’m Gwen.” She walked around to the back of my wheelchair and pushed me to where her friends were sitting. She ignored my protests.

     “I can do it,” the voice interpreted for me.

     “Yeah,” She said, looking down at me. “But that doesn’t mean that you want to.”

     I grinned and let her push me to her table. It was the one bright spot in my day.