Until. We. Die

.11.

"How often do you try walking without your brace?"

"Not a lot, I've only had it for a week?" I watched Dr. Hamlin pinch a certain part of my leg that would have killed me two weeks ago, but now those spots feel fine. He looks up at me and nods, his hands moving to rub over my knee where my brace hugs it the most.

"I'd like you to start since your knee is doing incredible, just a little bit at the time. Your muscles are building up properly, which is good. And you're not wincing or flinching anymore either. But they won't be any good if we keep the brace on forever. How long did you have your first brace when you first injured your leg?"

"I didn't have one like this for a while."

"What do you mean?"

"I had a brace at first, like this to make sure my leg stabilized but my dad threw it out, so I wrapped it for a little bit until I found a new one but it wasn't really helping me. It was cleared by my old doctor but I think it was just because it was cheap and he didn't want to anger my dad."

Dr. Hamlin stared at me blankly for a moment before writing something down on his notepad next to him before going back to having me stand and walk around to watch how my leg worked. "No wonder it has taken this long to get you back on track."

"I had one, my dad threw it out." He said that having to go to physical therapy was enough and that using a brace would only cause him more shame than what it's worth. "A lot was going on between then and this, and this is a lot better." It was, between not worrying about what my dad might do to damage my leg more, people at school potentially getting rough with me, and a school that wasn't very accommodating; it was a no-brainer why my leg was doing so much better.

Though in less than a week was slightly concerning to me, no injury like this should heal that fast, at this rate over a few months, I should probably have permanent leg damage.

It's a miracle I didn't.

"I'm sure." Judgment rolled off his tongue as he wrote these things down, this was our second appointment in five days. I probably should have told him more about my first injury beforehand but he never asked about the first accident from soccer. Between the slip on the field and the huge player who completely took me out and crushed my leg, there was no way I was moving off that field. It killed my season when we found out the damage extent and the surgery needed to start the correction.

It also sent any chance of me getting a ride to college out the door, all I had going for me to afford college was a soccer scholarship. We can piece together how that went with my father.

"I want you to start walking on it for a bit without the brace, then again with it. You'll have a limp, but I want you to start working on your knee mobility and we will reassess where you are in a few days. I'll come by Wednesday. Keep taking the meds I gave you, they'll keep you on track with recovery."

As he stood and put his things back into the small bag he came with, he nodded over to me where he gave me a new bottle of small pills, green stuff inside and in thin capsules. "What did you give me? For the meds? There wasn't a drug name on the bottle."

"Because they aren't drugs. Their herbs, just keep taking them." And with that, he was gone, and Hunter and Lou stood in the entryway to the living room. Hunter held Lous hand tightly as Dr. Hamlin passed by them on his way out. I didn't even hear them come back inside from their walk.

"How's your leg?" Hunter asked as soon as he heard Dr. Hamlin close the door to the house.

"Yeah, is it all better?" Lou chimed in, a smile on her face as she watched me tighten my brace again, turning the knobs so they sat tightly against my skin.