Fix My Feet When They're Stumblin'

Chapter 43

    "Hey, Brandon?"

    Ryan's disheveled dark blonde head peeked through the doorway, his face glowing with enthusiasm. "Are you ready for me?"

    Brandon nodded, struggling to sit up as Ryan closed the door and turned back to him with a grin. "Hey, I just saw Mandy in the hall! She told me you cut up all those pancakes all by yourself? That's seriously impressive, Brandon! Really, really, that's a huge deal. You should be proud! I am!"

    Brandon smiled shyly at the therapist. "Yeah...t-took forever, though."

    "Oh, who cares about that? You did it. You have to learn to be patient with yourself, Brandon. I know it's really hard, and it's easier said than done, because everything's really hard when it used to be nothing to you, but...it will get better, I promise. I hear you're saving the pancakes for a reward this evening, right?"

    Brandon nodded and shrugged. "W-wasn't... wasn't...I didn't w-want...want them then."

    "Well, that's alright! Now - we're going to try to work on stairs this afternoon," Ryan said, gesturing to the training stairs sitting by the window and the vacant wheelchair resting beside them. "Often, stairs can cause vertigo at first - dizziness or nausea - or headaches, because we're trying to retrain your brain for them. But we'll take it slow, alright?"

    Brandon sighed, blinking morosely at the stairs, and Ryan moved closer and sat on the edge of the bed beside him. "Hey - you can do it, Brandon. I know you can. Look what you just did this morning! It's scary at first, isn't it - trying something new? It's terrifying. But this will be your first try, and then it will get easier and easier after today, okay?"

    Brandon nodded and stood slowly, offering his therapist a faint smile.

    "Awesome, go ahead and lead me to the stairs, Brandon. I'll be right behind you. Remember, take your time. Be careful. Watch your feet. Lead me to the stairs."

    Taking a deep breath, Brandon walked toward the window, careful to keep his steps under control. He slowed to a stop at the base of the stairs, and Ryan stepped up to his side, one hand resting firmly against his back and the other gripping his shoulder gently.

    "Alright, Brandon. I've got you, don't worry. Take your time; grab the railing...good. Now step up with your right foot...good. Up to the next step with your left foot...good! Up one more with your right...up with the left...up with the right...and the left. Look, you're at the top!"

    Brandon clutched the railing so forcefully that his knuckles were white, breathing unsteadily. "That's okay, Brandon, we're going to just stand here for a bit and take a break, okay? It's okay, we're just going to rest here."

    A few minutes later, Brandon's breathing had evened and he began looking around the room from the top of the stairs, more at ease with the height. "Okay, are you ready to head down?"

    Brandon nodded slightly, and Ryan tightened his steadying hold on him. "Okay, down with your left foot...good. Down with your right foot...put your left foot down...and then your right...and again, your left foot down...and your right. That was awesome, you just did the whole thing!"

    Brandon blinked at his feet woozily, gripping the railing tightly.

    "You okay, Brandon?"

    He shook his head, fighting to control his tongue and force himself to speak. "Dizzy," he mumbled, and suddenly Ryan was guiding him into the wheelchair, his hands firm but gentle on his shoulders.

    "That's alright, we'll take a break. But look, you just did six stairs!"

    He managed a weak smile for his therapist, but he didn't feel particularly accomplished as the room tilted and spun around him.

    "Just let me know when you're ready to try again, alright?"

    Brandon nodded silently and slumped back into the chair with a soft sigh, exhausted. "Ready," he whispered to the ceiling, nearly fifteen minutes later. Ryan looked up from his notebook and studied him, noting his heavy breathing and the dazed look lingering in his eyes.

    "I'm not quite ready myself, Brandon, can you rest for another few minutes, please?"

    Brandon didn't even bother replying, and ten minutes later, Ryan put away his work and stood.

    "Alright, Brandon, let's take another shot at those stairs."

    Slowly, he dragged himself to his feet and waited at the bottom of the little staircase for instruction.

    "Okay, hold onto the rail...step up with your right foot - good! Left...yes. Up with the right...left...stay here for a bit...let's rest, we don't have to go all the way to the top. Can you turn around for me? And then back down again...good, good," Ryan said softly as Brandon returned to the floor, clutching the rail as he stood at the base of the stairs.

    "Stop, s-stop...I think - I'm - I'm gonna be...I - " He closed his eyes, unable to finish the sentence, white as a ghost. Ryan swiped for a large plastic cup on the windowsill, holding it under his head just in time as Brandon lost the fight with his stomach and his balance at the same time, saved by Ryan's steadying hand on his chest, sandwiching him between his hand and his hips to prevent him from falling.

    "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

    "It's okay, Brandon, it's okay," Ryan whispered, guiding his patient into the wheelchair once more, rubbing his shoulder gently. Brandon's face was pale green as he wiped his face and took deep, shaky breaths, staring vacantly at the floor, his eyes brimming with tears.

    "No, I'm sorry..." he mumbled, leaning forward, his elbow on his knee as he blinked tearfully at the floor.

    "Brandon, it's really okay. There's nothing to apologize for. It's very normal, it's alright - absolutely nothing to worry about, I promise. You've been working hard."

    Brandon shook his head slightly, his chin trembling. "No - n-no, I d-didn't...I haven't d-done anything...I can't...I c-can't do anything. I'm... I'm s-sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

    Ryan sighed as he crossed the room and deposited the cup of vomit on the side table and pressed the button for the nurse. Returning to Brandon, he sank to the floor in front of him, cross-legged, watching him sadly for a moment.

    "You know...you just did stairs, Brandon. Stairs are so, so difficult. They're a huge challenge. The part of your brain that controls your movement, your balance, Brandon, it's been hurt. You can't expect to manage them on your first try. You've been through the wringer. You did so good, Brandon. So good."

    Brandon just shook his head silently, avoiding Ryan's eyes, and the therapist squeezed his shoulder softly. "You did great work today, Brandon. I'm so proud of you. We're done for the day, take it easy, won't you? I'll see you again in the morning."

    Ryan wheeled the chair to the bed and helped Brandon get settled just as a nurse entered the room, her long dark hair in a braid around the top of her head.

    "Hey, he needs some anti-nausea and some pain meds, please," Ryan said quietly, crossing the room to retrieve the cup Brandon had been sick in and handing it to her.

    "Of course, of course. Be back in just a minute, dear."

    Ryan moved to the stairs and picked them up, placing them by the door near his duffel bag, then returned to Brandon's beside. His eyes were half-lidded and foggy now, clearly fighting sleep as he watched the therapist move through the room.

    "Get some rest, Brandon. You did so much today - you walked a football field, you climbed stairs, and you beat up some pancakes. I'm so proud of you. Get some sleep and I'll be back in the morning."