Journey

04: Euphoria (O)

"Are you ready for your rehab lesson today?"

The nurse's voice floats in from the doorway, her calm demeanor contrasting with the sense of frustration building inside me as I sit on the bed, closing the novel I was reading. 

I glance up at her, a mix of resignation and determination in my eyes. "As ready as I'll ever be," I reply with a forced smile, trying to muster some enthusiasm for the upcoming session.

I completely understand that these lessons are meant to help me readjust to life, to regain my mobility and independence. However, at times, it all feels so imposed and intrusive that I struggle to find the motivation to engage in rehabilitation.

Especially when it's right after learning that my parents are gone. It's like trying to focus on rebuilding my physical strength while my emotional strength, my mental health is still shattered.

"Great! Then, I'll be waiting for you at the rehab room. Be there soon, okay?" Nurse Mary says, leaving the door open as a wide invitation for me to head to the rehab room.

Along with a sigh of frustration, I put the novel back on the table and shift myself off of bed, then adjust my crutches underneath my armpits. "I guess it's time once again..."

If only I could open up to Hussaiba, but I don't feel mentally ready to do so. I wonder how she's feeling after what happened between us yesterday. Would she still be sad? She's never been quick to move on from emotions like that, so I would assume not. Then again, maybe she's changed over these past months. After all, she's only had herself for company.

I wonder if she still needs others to take care of her, or if she has learnt to do that herself. I wonder... if she even needs me back.

"Welcome back to the rehab center, Akhtar."

His dirty blonde hair, neatly parted to both sides, seems a little more overgrown than before. His glasses seem to have a new lens, taking on more of a round shape. His facial hair has been shaved neatly, leaving no more than just remains.

"Thank you, Doctor Sinclair." I glance at him, exchanging a slight smile and a nod. Doctor Sinclair, returning the smile, slowly opens the door to the rehab center, trying not to disturb those who were in there already.

I enter the rehab center, a place that has become both a sanctuary and a challenge. The sterile scent of disinfectant greets me as I walk in, mingling with the faint hum of medical equipment in the background. The soft padding of my footsteps echo lightly against the tiled floor, creating a soothing rhythm amidst the clinical atmosphere.

Doctor Sinclair, holding a notepad with some sort of paper on it, nods at me with a determined look, his presence exuding a sense of confidence and reassurance. He has been a constant pillar of support throughout my rehabilitation journey, guiding me through the ups and downs with unwavering patience and expertise.

As I make my way to the handrail-type apparatus for walking practice, my heart flutters with a mix of determination and apprehension. Each step towards the equipment feels like a step towards reclaiming a part of myself that has been lost - the handrails stand tall and sturdy, beckoning me to test my strength and resilience once again.

Gripping the handrails tightly, I take a deep breath and focus on the task at hand. My muscles tense with effort as I begin to move, the familiar motion of walking slowly coming back to me. It's a delicate dance of balance and coordination, a symphony of muscle memory and mental concentration.

"Alright, now, just keep your balance. Focus on what's important. Do not turn your mind away, just focus on what's important. You'll be able to do it, I believe in you, Akhtar - and you should believe in yourself too. You can do it."