Wild Hearts

Chapter 4: Rehab is Hard

For the third time in the morning, Nurse June came in to turn me over. I groaned as the pillows shifted underneath me,  My side felt numb from the hour I had been laying on it. Nurse June Started to scold me for going out alone, but all I could think about was not being able to ride,  what would Dad think?! He died when I was 8 and was a world-class jumper, at his funeral I swore that I would continue his legacy. It sounds a bit like something you would find in the plotline of a cheesy video-game about war or something, but that's pretty much the thoughts that were circulating in my head. Back to the hospital, I could still hear Nurse June prattling on about not feeding wild animals and such, but my eyes started to grow heavy and soon I slipped into a deep sleep and began to dream. 

The dream started with a loud crack of thunder as I heard the thundering of hooves coming towards me, I tried to run but my legs wouldn't work, I cried as I fell and the leader of the herd came over the hills that loomed behind me. After it came thousands upon thousands of horses, all of them pure black. They raced towards me and I screamed, attempting to claw out of the way of the galloping hoard but I couldn't, and they came thundering overhead, as the Herd leader was about to stomp on my head with his iron hooves, I woke up in a sweat, trying to sit up but desperately failing. Above me stood my worried mother, at her side a wheelchair and a very annoyed Nurse June. 

"Today you will be starting rehabilitation, so you can work towards crutches. That probably won't happen, but we can hope." Nurse June grumbled, clearly upset I fell asleep while she was talking yesterday. 

I groaned at the Nurse's negativity, weren't they supposed to be cheery and supporting? Once again tried to swing my legs over the side of the bed, but they still wouldn't work. What did that dream I had mean anyway? Was it that I was afraid I wouldn't be able to walk again? Or was it that I was afraid that I could never ride again? I came to the conclusion it was probably a little bit of both. I lay still, ignoring the world around me as I hear the thunder of hooves in my head, over and over again, I hear the nickering of the shiny black horses, longing to be hearing the nickering and neighing of my own. When the doctor finally came in to take me to the strength-building room, I sighed, might as well get this over with now.

In the exercise room, I saw several other patients, grimacing and moaning as they try to pull themselves to a standing position. My brow furrows, could it really be that difficult? Yeah, it's that difficult. I struggle just to get my wheelchair up the ramp, let alone lift myself up out of it. I groaned and moaned, even more than the 12 year old to my right, who did it easily. After about two minutes of trying, I finally gave up, I was never going to get it. The doctor assured me that the strength would build up over time and eventually I would be able to use crutches but I didn't believe him. Let's face it, I'm never going to get to crutches, forget riding.