Chapter 38: Neverland Misadventures - The Physio II

(When: Approximately 6 Years and 2 Months Ago)

The guardians' happy reunion was short-lived.

Wendy was crushed to find their children were gone.

"We couldn't get them safely onto the Second Star." Ariel explained, "You would have died, so we had to save you first. Jim put the kids in a longboat...and Jon flew them down to Fantasia..."

There was a mournful pause.

"I'm sure they're alright." Ariel forced herself to finish. "And I'm sure your baby is more than alright. Everything is going to be fine. You'll see."

Wendy waited until they left to cry.

She knew they were lying. Their children could be dead. It was that simple. Although Wendy dearly wanted to believe Ariel, she couldn't rely on false hopes.

All she could do was wait. She had to wait for her body to heal. She had to wait for the Second Star to be rebuilt. And she had to wait for Jim to devise a plan that would evade Captain Hook.

Lots of waiting. Agonizing waiting.

Thank goodness for physical therapy.

"Life is movement," gi said on their second day. She had started Wendy on a seemingly simple exercise (repeated sit to stands) that was outrageously fatiguing. As Wendy performed the standing transfers without stopping, gi gradually let go.

Soon, Wendy did not require assistance to stand.

"Nice!" gi clapped. "Keep going! Once you stop moving, you're dead. Remember, immobility is an illness."

Wendy huffed. But she kept going as gi spoke.

"Immobility can be caused by anything," gi said. "Tight muscles, weak muscles, pain, surgery, stroke. Anything that causes you to stop moving may be treatable by exercise. Physical therapists are the doctors of movement. So it's my job to make you move."

Well, gi was true to her word: she made Wendy move.

Wendy was not an athlete and she had never aspired to be one. Like her mother, she was blessed with a delicate stature and restrained appetite, eliminating the need for exercise.

But physical therapy introduced her to exercise and fitness. It was a world full of everything Wendy normally despised (namely sweat), but it was a godsend during her hospitalization for three reasons.

One: it provided her with a goal. (If I get better, I can find my children in Fantasia).

Two: it provided her with a distraction. (No more listless waiting!)

Three: it actually made her happy.

"Of course physical therapy makes you happy," gi said after their third session. Delighted, she circled the word happy that Wendy had written on Baymax's digital stomach screen.

"Exercise releases endorphins. Endorphins make you happy. Honestly, there is nothing better than a kick-ass workout to make you feel like a million dollars."

"Oh sorry!" gi covered her mouth. "I didn't mean to swear. That was super unprofessional. Plus I know you don't like swearing. Language, right? Sorry Mrs. Pan, I just get so pumped when other people get excited by exercise."

Still unable to speak, Wendy batted her hand forgivingly. However, she thought it strange that gi knew she disapproved of profanity. It was equally strange that gi's apology included Wendy's favorite reprimand: language.

Was it coincidental? Wendy assumed so.

Dismissing her qualms, Wendy leaned over her bedside chair and reached for Baymax. Baymax shuffled closer, allowing Wendy to write on his digital stomach screen.

Do you exercise quite often? she asked.

gi nodded.

"Mostly every day." she said, strapping five-pound ankle weights to Wendy's feet. After reconsidering, she replaced the five-pound weights with fifteens.

"I really enjoy running," gi specified. "Partially because I have no hand-eye-coordination, but mostly because I get to eat like a caveman afterward!"

gi directed Wendy to lift her leg toward the ceiling, then kick the knee straight. Wendy obeyed: her thighs were burning after three repetitions.

gi didn't let her stop. Squatting to monitor Wendy's progress, she continued to talk.

"Running is also my mental release," she said. "I run when I am stressed, I run when I am sad, I run when I need to think. I love running because my body can just go on autopilot and my brain can decompress. Running is like champagne: it makes me feel sparkly and relaxed at the same time."

gi patted Wendy's calf, signaling her to stop.

"I know you don't drink Mrs. Pan," she said, removing the ankle weights, "But trust me - champagne is something you definitely need to try before you die. It makes any occasion special. Added benefit: you'll understand my champagne-running analogy!"

Again Wendy was slightly baffled. How did gi know she didn't drink? Reaching for Baymax (while simultaneously catching her breath) she wrote out the question.

"Oh." gi shrugged dismissively, "How do I know you don't drink? I read it in your medical record."

Baymax cocked his head. "My apologies doctor, but I do not believe that information is in Mrs. Pan's medical record."

"Sure it is." gi said, smoothly turning for the blood pressure cuff. "Where else would I have read it? Okay Mrs. Pan, let's take one last blood pressure..."

Wendy supplied an arm, allowing gi to don the cuff and position her stethoscope. As the cuff was inflated, Wendy wrote on Baymax's stomach with her free hand.

Where are you from? Do you have a family? Do you like your job?

gi glanced. Smiling, she returned to read the monitor as the cuff deflated. "You asked a lot of questions. I bet you'll be talking non-stop when your voice comes back. Okay, blood pressure looks great, low 120s over 70s."

Wendy exhaled through a huge grin (which was the closest exclamation she had to a laugh). Again, gi's remark was eerily similar to Peter's comment that she "talked too much."

Wendy tapped Baymax's stomach, highlighting her questions. The young physical therapist seemed to know everything about her, so naturally, Wendy wanted to reciprocate. gi was a curious character, and Wendy was interested about her life.

gi slung the stethoscope around her neck.

"Well, I'm from Earth, that's four planets away from here, much closer to the sun. My family still lives on Earth, right now they live in a foresty area near a mountain lake. It's beautiful. I love it there. Haha –"

gi winked. "I guess I came to Uranus just so I could treat you, Mrs. Pan!"

Wendy beamed, humored, but also flattered by the joke. She pointed to the last question.

gi frowned.

"Do I like my job? Hmm."

Baymax misinterpreted gi's expression for confusion.

"Do – you—" he repeated, pointing helpfully to each word. "—like—your—job?"

gi sucked a cheek. Contemplatively, she gathered her equipment.

"It's a good job," she admitted, more to herself than to Wendy. "I get to work in healthcare, but I never have to tell someone that they are going to die. Physical therapy is a doctoral profession, which means seven years of school and lots of student loans...but I get to wear sneakers to work and I do like helping my patients improve. So it's a good job. But..."

gi shouldered the walker. Her little shoulders sagged. "But a job's a job, you know? Everyone has to work, so really there's no other option but to thrive in your profession, even if it's not your passion. You know?"

Wendy nodded emphatically. Having been forced into shadow working by the Wishing Star, she knew exactly how gi felt.

Scrolling her finger across Baymax's stomach, Wendy asked one more question.

What is your passion?

gi peered at Wendy. Her expression was hard to read. But when she spoke, it was the most bittersweet sound that Wendy had ever heard.

"I like to write."

Wendy gazed at gi. She smiled.

gi returned the smile. Then she waved out the door.

"Have a great day Mrs. Pan. I'll see you tomorrow. Remember...no walking without me just yet. You're almost there, but I'll get you where you need to go. All you need faith, trust, and a little bit of..."

gi disappeared down the hallway before Wendy heard the rest.