3 months have passed since I woke up.
That first day, Tom and I told my parents.
The second day, my parents left-and haven't called since.
The third day I had a breakdown when I couldn't kick the covers off because I was hot.
The fourth day I started therapy.
The fifth day I continued.
The sixth day I quit.
The seventh day I went back.
And it's rotated like that ever since.
Tom's been here every day since (except the day he had the flu and they wouldn't let him near the patients). We managed to get a few of the nurses to let him stay with me overnight a few times, too. I thought they just felt bad for me, until one of the nurses said I "dazzled" her into it. I proceeded to tell her that she "made me throw up a little in my mouth" because of it. What a cunt.
We didn't tell anyone that we were together unless they asked. Nikki asked, then she never came back. She was interest in the attention, and now she knows she'll never get it.
Peter and Jennie came with their daughters. They were under the impression that children would cheer me up. How wrong they were. Jennie asked about Tom and me. We told her, and she said she'd help us out as best she could without my parents around.
The only other people that asked were a few nurses. I think they just wanted to make sure I wanted Tom in my bed- I wasn't in any state to fight off attackers. I did sleep better when Tom was with me. I didn't have nightmares over the crash; I still don't remember any of it, but I'm okay with that. Id o have nightmares for the future, though. What life will be like if I stay in a wheelchair forever.
In a week I'm being released from the hospital, and I'm terrified. I don't know what I'm doing. I can get out of bed and into my chair. I've figured out how to go to the bathroom without being able to feel it. I can get around the hospital. But I don't know if I can get around the rest of the world. Tom says he'll help me, but he shouldn't have to. I should be able to take care of myself.
We're gonna have to move. Our apartment building has an elevator, but what if it breaks? Or there's a fire? I don't even know where there's a ramp to get into the building in the first place. I can't even get to the building by myself. I can't drive.
Tom shouldn't want me anymore. I'm worthless. I finally grow the balls the hold his hand in public and we won't be able to do it while I'm wheeling myself along. I can't reach things on high shelves for him anymore. I can't cuddle properly. I probably won't act anymore. I'll have to find a real job with only a high school education.
I'm a waste of space.
Fuck my life.
I wish I had died when that truck hit me.
A/N:jsyk, all of my information about paralysis is based on Jason Street from Friday Night Lights. So if it's wrong, blame NBC.
