Tiny Moments

9: Last Days

Abby's POV

I'm back in the hospital. They say I'm here another day before getting my care and files transferred to the hospital in LA.

"Abby, honey, I'm back," Mommy says walking in the room.

"Hello," I mutter sitting up to see her better.

"How are you?" She says setting her stuff down next to my bed.

"Good," I say reaching for the cup of water next to my bed.

"Here," she hands me the small cup. It has a straw and a lid. It's also blue.

"Thanks," I say.

"Are you alright?" She asks.

"Yeah," I say, weakly. My wrists are still bruised, my head pounds and my legs are still weak but I'm afraid doing pretty well. It's been a lot worse.

"Well, when you get out tomorrow, Brittany is gonna come help and we are gonna go shopping for a few hours. Then we are all gonna head to LA, well just you and me she's going home," Mommy explains. I nod that I understand.

"Hi, Anna," the doctor says coming in.

"Hello," mommy says shaking his hand again like they always do.

"So Abby, here's the deal, I'm gonna allow you to fly back but you're gonna have to go to the hospital for physical therapy and regular therapy," he says sinking my hopes of getting as far away from the hospital as I can.

"Are you gonna transfer everything there?" Mommy asks.

"Yet, we are faxing the last of the paper work now, you guys still need physical therapy, it's like she's getting weaker but I believe it'll get better, I think there may be some nerve damage, we're gonna do a few scans, or it may be the lack of nutrition she had while growing up," the doctor said.

"Oh, and Doctor, I wanted to ask you about a few things, can we talk outside," mommy motions to the door and they both step out. Nerve damage? Lack of nutrition? What?

They both come back in about five minutes later. Then the doctor says, "Abby I have some news."

"Yes?" I croak out.

"You are gonna get to use a stroller instead of a wheelchair, but you can't fall asleep, I say this because when we did scans a few days ago it looks like you might have a slight concussion, and we want to monitor that closely. We didn't see it earlier scans because we were so focused on you physical condition. Sorry to tell you late, I told your mom that yesterday. Finally, meds, so far pain killers, and PTSD or post traumatic stress disorder. We might put you on child anxiety depending on how you do, last be not least I'll be back at noon for another set of scans and tests," he finishes. How do you forget to check someone's mental condition?

"Abby, you know how you're still in diapers?" Anna begins. I nod slowly at her.

"Well, do you ever want to start potty training?" Anna says in a delicate voice. I shake no quickly.

"Why?" she says barely above a whisper.

"I'm scared," I say quietly.

"What are you scared of?" She replies.

"I'm scared of what will happen. I was never potty trained. I've been hurt bare skin, of course, because they knew it'd hurt more that way, but either way," I say shaking off the bad memories, I didn't even notice a few tears slipped out.

"Hey, don't cry. You can wait until you feel ready," Anna says wiping my tears away.

"Oh-okay," I say taking deeper breaths.