Over the next week, Richie worked with Steve a couple of times per day. The sessions were kept very short at first but as Steve got stronger, Richie increased the length of each session. Steve didn't mind the physical therapy sessions. He had been used to working out and keeping in shape before the accident.
It was the occupational therapy sessions that he hated. They were downright humiliating and embarrassing. Grab bars were set up around the toilet and he had to learn how to use them to keep himself from falling off of the seat. A special stool was placed in the shower and he had to practice giving himself a shower without falling off and cracking open his skull. He had to be carried to and from the bathroom and he couldn't take a leak or a shower without having either Richie or an orderly and Carla hovering around nearby in case he needed help. And a few times he did. They were very protective of him but as he got stronger and with more practice, they relaxed and gave him more privacy.
Richie backed into Steve's room carrying a large piece of equipment made of metal pipes. An orderly was carrying the other end.
"Let's set it here for now," Richie told the orderly. "We need to move the bed so that we can put it into place."
Steve looked quizzically at the contraption. "What's that?"
"This, my friend, is a hospital bed trapeze," Richie answered as he and the orderly pushed the bed with Steve in it to the other side of the room.
"Trapeze? What, like in the circus?"
"No, you won't be flying through the air with this trapeze. But you will be able to get yourself in and out of bed with its help and it will help you build your strength."
Steve watched as they pushed the contraption to where the head of his bed had been. A triangle-shaped bar hung down, suspended by a chain.
They pushed the bed back into place. The triangle-shaped bar hung directly over Steve.
"Thanks, man," Richie said to the orderly as he was leaving.
Richie turned to Steve. "Give it a try. See if you can pull yourself up."
Steve grasped the triangle-shaped bar with his left hand and grunted as he tried to pull himself up. It took a considerable amount of effort and he was perspiring but he eventually got himself up in a sitting position. Steve grinned at his accomplishment even as he was panting from the exertion.
"Good. Good. You're getting stronger. You keep working on that and in no time you'll be getting yourself to the bathroom!"
It had been a week since the trapeze was put in Steve's room and he used every spare moment he had to practice with it. Pulling his own body weight up was getting easier and easier each day.
The spring morning was beautiful. Breakfast had ended an hour ago and Steve was alone in his room staring out the window. He glanced at the wheelchair next to his bed and got an idea. He reached over and pulled the wheelchair closer the bed. Throwing the covers off, he then grabbed the trapeze bar and lifted himself up. He moved his leg stumps onto the wheelchair and then carefully lowered his body onto the wheelchair. He was breathing hard from the exertion but he had done it! Now to get to the window.
Wheelchairs were made for two arms, not one, and Steve realized he would just go around in circles if he only pushed the wheel on one side. He stretched over to his right side with his left arm and pushed the wheel a few inches, and then he pushed the wheel a few inches on his left side. Back and forth, back and forth he repeated this, moving the wheelchair a few inches at a time. It was painstakingly slow but it worked. Eventually he reached the window.
The view of the Rockies was spectacular and included a waterfall and fields covered with wildflowers in the distance. Closer by, Steve could see another large building to his right. On the left were tennis courts and a covered picnic area. The windows of all the buildings in the OSI complex were made of a special privacy glass. People inside could see out but nobody outside could see in. This security feature allowed Steve to enjoy watching all the people walking by but none of them could see him.
Steve sat there for an hour enjoying the view when he was hit with a sudden case of cabin fever. He couldn't handle being cooped up in his room anymore. He wanted to go outside and enjoy the fresh air and immaculately-kept grounds of the complex. It was about thirty feet from the window to the door. He might as well have been a half-mile away. It was going to take forever. But Steve was determined. Turning the wheelchair around to face the door was the easy part. With a quick flick of his left hand on the wheel, the wheelchair was facing the door. Now came the hard part, trying to keep the wheelchair going in a straight line. Back and forth he went with his left arm, moving the wheelchair a few inches at a time. Finally, he reached the door. He needed to get close enough to the door to reach the handle and yet far enough away for the door to open without banging into his wheelchair. He decided that facing his left side to door was the best option. He maneuvered the wheelchair into the proper position and then reached over as far as he could and grabbed the door handle. He opened the door and glanced into the hospital corridor. As he was struggling with trying to keep the door open while turning his wheelchair around and out the door, a very surprised guard was standing in the doorway.
Carla was at the nurses' station where she had clear eyeshot of Steve's room. She heard a commotion and looked up to see Steve halfway out the door and arguing with the security guard. She rushed over and helped the guard push Steve back into the room. She did a quick scan of the corridor. Nobody had seemed to notice. She breathed a sigh of relief.