Fix My Feet When They're Stumblin'

Chapter 33

    Passing by the waiting room early the next morning, Mandy glanced inside and then doubled back, addressing the group at large. With Brandon's recovery progressing, several members of the entourage had said their goodbyes and bowed out, returning home, and the room was no longer entirely packed with people associated with The Killers.

    "Hey, guys - Brandon has asked if he can avoid having visitors today, if that's alright. Everything's fine, he's okay. It just takes a lot out of him to visit with you guys, and he says he wants to focus on his therapy today." She smiled at his family apologetically, adding, "It's a good thing - sometimes we have to bribe patients, force them to participate. He'll feel better faster if he wants to do therapy. You'll be able to see him again tomorrow, he agreed to that."

    Disappointed grumbles came from Brandon's kids, and Ronnie silently sympathized - he really wanted to apologize to Brandon. He'd hardly slept the night before for worrying, agonizing over what he would say.

     "Alright then, who wants to help me choose a board game from the shelf?" The drummer asked, clapping his hands together. All three little hands shot into the air. "Gunnar, you win! Let's go."

    -    -    -    -    -

    "Okay, Brandon, I've brought some new things for you to try today!" Ryan smiled as he unpacked his duffel bag and set up the parallel bars again, placing a small set of three stairs with a built-in hand rail by the window and a long foam mat next to the bars.

    Brandon eyed the stairs warily. "I don't..."

    "Ah, you can do it! Your wife told me you've got stairs at home, so you've got to practice sometime! But if you'd like we can start with just walking, that's fine."

    "Please."

    "Great! Now, I heard from Ernie, your occupational therapist, that you're starting to work on shaving, eating and dressing, and now even walking to the bathroom with a nurse, as of yesterday! That's quick progress, Brandon! Really, excellent work."

    Brandon smiled absently, distracted, glancing nervously at the stairs. "Uh...yeah."

    "Would you mind walking to the bars for me?"

    Brandon heaved himself to his feet and made his way to the bars, stumbling a few times and wavering dangerously to the side once, but paying close attention to his steps, Ryan hovering just behind him. When he reached the bars, he grasped one tightly, thankful for its support.

    "Perfect, Brandon. You're a lot steadier in the morning, have you noticed? You've got to make sure to let your body rest enough."

    Brandon chucked, a short, dry laugh. "Don't...I don't th-th-think I could p-possibly...uh...uh...oh, w-what's the word?"

    "Sleep?"

    "Yes, sleep! Thank you. I d-don't think I could sleep any m-more...than I already d-do, Ryan."

    "Mm, that sounds like a challenge to me, Brandon. Sleep is what you need the most right now, that's when your brain heals at the fastest rate. You've got to find the right balance between resting and working your brain."

    "I s'pose."

    Ryan patted his shoulder. "Alright, can you do two laps? Straight to the end, then turn around and come back. Hold onto the bar if you want to, it's okay." Ryan followed along on the outside of the bars, watching his patient's rollicking gait. "Great, Brandon. We're going to mix it up a little. Can you walk to the end again, but walk sideways?"

    Brandon just blinked at the therapist, entirely dumbfounded. "Uh...I d-dunno."

    "Well, let's give it a try, shall we? Here, turn and face the bar - good. You can hold the bar, go ahead. Okay, move your right foot to the right. Move your left foot to the right, now. Good! Can you do it again? Move your right foot to the right, then your left foot. Good, good, keep going!"

    Halfway through the bars, Brandon stopped cold, distracted by a bird's shadow visible through the curtain covering his window. "Brandon, come on, keep going."

    "Hm? Go where?" He sounded genuinely confused, and Ryan smiled. "You've got the keep walking to the end of the bars, Brandon."

    "Oh..." He looked around, bewildered. "Was I...how...d-did I get here? I d-don't remember. I was...over there."

    "That's alright, nothing to worry about. I don't blame you if you'd rather watch a bird than do this!" Ryan chuckled, waving him onward. "Come on, let's go. Can you walk sideways to the end of the bars? Just a few more steps to go, come on."

    Brandon looked down at his feet, shuffling uncertainly. "Can you move your right foot to the right, towards the window? And then your left foot. Walk toward the bird, Brandon. Good!"

    By the time they reached the end of the bars, the bird had flown away, but Brandon seemed to have forgotten about it anyway. His face was pale, his eyes focused determinedly on his feet. Ryan studied him warily, then pushed the wheelchair into place behind him. "Take a break, Brandon. Good work!"

    Brandon fell into the chair, the color drained from his face, staring vaguely at the window. "Brandon, that was actually quite an advanced skill, good job! We're going to take a good, long break, and then we'll try something a little bit more familiar, okay?"

    Brandon nodded, resting his chin on his hand, eyes closed, as Ryan settled into a chair of his own, jotting down observations in a battered notebook.

    -    -    -    -    -

    "Ohhhhhh, mom, look, a dog!"

    Ammon's excited voice broke through the little group's intensely competitive game of Monopoly - Mark was in the lead. A tall and willowy dark-skinned woman smiled cheerfully, accompanied by a fluffy brown and white collie with a blue harness proclaiming its status as a therapy dog.

    "You kids must be Henry, Gunnar, and...it's Ammon, isn't it? We were making our rounds and I asked your dad if he would like to meet her, and he said no, he's hard at work - but it's your lucky day! He told us to take her to see you all instead! Normally we try to save her just for patients, but we made a special exception here."

    "Ahhhh, thanks, dad!" Henry squealed gleefully, scrambling over to the dog, nearly upsetting the game board in his haste. His brothers followed close behind. "What's his name? Or her name?"

    "Her name is Molly, dear." The woman smiled, watching as the boys crowded around the dog, who wagged her tail furiously, soaking up the petting. Many of the adults gazed longingly at the collie, but stayed in their seats - agreeing by unspoken rule that the kids should get first priority.

    "Ohhh, hello, Molly!" Ammon gushed stroking her ruff vigorously and sitting on the floor beside her. The dog inched closer, large eyes fixed on him, tail beating wildly in excitement. The boy patted his leg in invitation and Molly crawled into his lap as best as she could, being a rather large dog in a rather young boy's lap. Content, she closed her eyes, enjoying the continued attention from the children, who cooed over her, very enthusiastic.

    "Ohhh, I miss Annie," Ammon sighed, looking down at the dog. "I hope we can go home soon."

    "I know, honey," Tana said softly, stroking his hair from her seat behind him, supervising the visit with Molly. "Your dad's getting better every day. I think they'll let us take him home before we know it."

    "How long...do you have to take Molly away soon, miss?" Gunnar asked, looking up at the dog's handler with wide eyes as Molly pressed her face into his hand and he squeaked happily.

    "Oh, you guys can hang out with her for another ten minutes or so before we need to move on. Lots of people for her to see, you know!"

    Grins split each of the boys' faces and they fell upon the dog, fawning over her. Tana smiled watching them, finally completely carefree and absorbed in something.  Good call, Brandon. They needed this. She could've sworn that the dog was grinning back at her children, her pink tongue flopping lazily in sheer happiness.