Monday, 23 November 2015
There was a knock on the door. Ethan knew it was Olivia - his physiotherapist - having been warned of her arrival. An ordinary person wouldn't phrase it 'warn' for that indicated it's something dangerous. But for Ethan, yes he was warned. Because he didn't want to try to stand or walk. Trying meant the possibility of failing and he as already having a bad morning.
Cal had tried to ask him what was wrong, and Ethan might have given him an answer had he known the answer. The truth was he'd had no idea what was wrong. He just felt really bad, and that meant all he wanted to do was lie in bed listening to Cal.
There was something Ethan never imagined himself thinking. He actually wanted to listen to Cal. He liked hearing stories or jokes or anything to keep his mind off the situation. And it also meant he didn't have to talk. He was still having help with his speech but today, he couldn't be bothered to even try and talk. Why should he anyway? All it would achieve is slowness and stuttering and frustration when he couldn't say what he wanted to say. He'd learnt it's best not to say anything a lot of the time.
Cal called for Olivia to enter. He was kind enough to realise Ethan wasn't up for talking this morning (though not kind enough to tell Olivia to go away). It wasn't her fault, it was her job to do this. But Ethan just really didn't want to.
"How are you this morning, Ethan?"
Ethan just stared at her, trying to convey he didn't want to try this morning. Or this afternoon. Or ever.
There was silence until Cal broke it, "not great."
She smiled sympathetically. "One of those days, is it?"
He knew what she was trying to do. She was hoping to initiate conversation, even if it was by Ethan moaning about how bad the morning was.
But no, he wasn't going to speak.
After gaining no response, she smiled gently, placed the walking frame (Ethan eyed it up with absolute disgust) to the side and walked over to the left side of the bed.
"Right, so let's try this, shall we?" she said, clapping her hands and rubbing them together. "Caleb, would you mind…?"
"Not at all."
It any other circumstance, Ethan knew that Cal might have a bit of a thing for Olivia. She looked a lot like Taylor in all honesty, just with light brown hair rather than blonde. Her eyes were a type of blue people would be jealous of and her smile was soft enough to put people at ease (on good days, anyway). But Cal was remaining strictly professional. Good on him.
Ethan, knowing he'd have no choice but to at least try, braced himself for the inevitable moment it would all go wrong. They did what they usually did. Ethan tried to manoeuvre himself so he was sitting on the edge of the bed (often, Cal would have to assist him, but today Ethan was determined to prove he wasn't completely useless) and so his legs were over the side. Once they'd got in that position, Cal would be ready to help if - no, when - it all went wrong and Olivia would be standing there with her positive demeanour, rearing to go.
Ethan wondered if that ever became tiring for her.
He looked at the floor, wishing but not brave enough to hope that maybe, today, he could do more than stand up. He was already slightly dizzy (after all, he only really ever lay in bed) but it wasn't as bad as it had been recently.
Maybe it would be better today.
Ethan put his hands on the bed, either side of his body, most of his weight falling on them as he pushed himself up. He could feel his arms shaking but it didn't deter him. The encouraging smiles that both Olivia and Cal were giving him were almost actually encouraging him.
His feet were on the floor and he quickly moved one of his hands to Olivia's outstretched arm, gripping it tightly.
He stuttered out an apology, feeling stupid that even that wasn't said clearly. This was why he didn't talk. Olivia only verbally brushed it off.
"Cal," Olivia said (Ethan was focused on the ground so didn't see what she was referring to).
A moment later, the frame appeared within his view. He hated that thing.
Olivia guided his hand over to it and Ethan gripped that instead, knowing that he had made progress as his knees hadn't buckled beneath him yet. He removed his other hand from the bed and gripped the other side. He put most of his weight on his arms, scared that if he didn't he would fall.
"When you're ready, Ethan, I want you to take a step forward with your left foot. Okay? You're doing really well."
Ethan knew he wasn't. It was a generic phrase most people learn in the medical profession.
He stood there. He wasn't ready. He would never be ready.
"Ethan, look at me."
He did so, glancing up to Cal's face.
"You can do this, Ethan. I promise you."
You can't break this promise, Cal. I swear, don't break it.
He tightened his grip so it was almost painful and slightly lifted his left foot off the ground. He placed it down further in front.
And he didn't fall.
"You did it, Eth!"
Don't get too ahead of yourself, Cal. It's only one step.
"Well done, Ethan!" Olivia said, rubbing his (slightly trembling) back. "Now, I want you to do the same thing with your right foot, yeah?"
He gave her a pleading look.
"You can do it, Ethan," she said.
He looked back down at his feet, focused on moving his right foot. His arms shook more this time, as did his legs. And as he lifted up his right foot…
Well, Cal had to catch him.
"Please talk to me, Nibbles."
Olivia had left soon after he had fallen. Ethan even surprised himself when he didn't cry or scream or get frustrated. Inside he was a mess. A self-deprecating, anger-filled, pathetic mess. Outside he didn't even shed a tear. He just let himself get supported back to his bed and looked at the ceiling, resolutely. For twenty minutes straight.
Cal tried everything to get him to speak or even look at him. Ethan made no response to his touch or his voice or the emotion in his voice. He just wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole, ending this whole stupid ordeal.
"It's okay, Ethan. You made progress. That's something to be happy about, right?"
No, it isn't, Cal. There's nothing to be happy about. I can't even speak properly.
"All right, Ethan. Look, I understand you don't want to do anything right now."
How could you understand? How could you ever understand?
"How about I leave for ten minutes, allow you to be alone for a bit, and when I come back we can talk? Does that sound good?"
Ethan did nothing. There was no point.
"All you have to do is nod or shake your head. Shall I leave for a bit?"
Deciding that maybe, responding wouldn't be so bad, Ethan nodded his head.
"Okay, Eth. I'll be back soon. You've got the emergency button if you need it."
Cal left without saying another word, and now Ethan was left alone with his thoughts. He almost liked Cal's attempts to get him to respond (even though they were fruitless) as it meant he could at least focus on something other than his mind's darkness.
Now Cal was gone, he let his eyes travel to the bedside cabinet. He knew that Cal's glass of water was on the side and as he looked, he could see it as clear as day. Beside it was his own plastic cup, that stupid, worthless thing that showed his physical inability to do the simplest things.
He glanced outside, through the partially covered-with-blinds window. Cal was stood, Ethan could just see, a little way down the corridor talking to Dr McKay.
Usually, it would bother him that they were having a conversation without him, usually because the conversation would be about him, but today he passed it over. There was something else on his mind.
He needed to prove he wasn't a child, he could do things and he could do them well. He didn't need a plastic cup.
Slowly and carefully, he shuffled over in his bed and reached out his arm to grab Cal's glass. It was half-full so it wasn't too heavy (though the glass would make it heavier than the plastic anyway). His fingers curled around the shape and he held on tightly. He looked out at his brother again, checking he wouldn't walk in anytime soon. It wasn't like Ethan was doing anything necessarily bad, but he doubted Cal believed he could do this and probably wanted him to stick with that stupid plastic one.
Cautiously he lifted it off the surface, feeling the unusual weight of it. He wasn't used to this at all, but he wasn't going to let it deter him. He brought it to the side, uncaring of his shaking arm.
See! He could do it.
Making sure to never take his eyes off the glass, he started to bring it off the table, and soon it was over the floor. He could feel his grip slowly weakening, he wasn't used to this kind of weight in his hand and he hadn't eaten much today (much to Cal's protest). But he gripped it tighter. He wasn't going to let go.
Or at least he tried to grip it tighter. Because he couldn't. And then it fell. And then it smashed.
The effect was immediate. Cal and Dr McKay, having heard the crash, burst into the room. Ethan started to cry, no longer holding back his emotions at all. Long sobs worked their way from his throat and Cal hugged him tightly, trying to get him to calm down. Ethan knew that stress was one of his seizure triggers but right now he didn't care.
He hated this! He absolutely hated this!
He tried to push against Cal's chest, to get him to let go. He didn't want this comfort, he didn't deserve it. He was so useless! He couldn't walk or speak or even do something as simple as holding a glass!
Cal didn't loosen his hold. He carried on speaking to him, getting him to breathe slower. Ethan eventually just fell against him, tired and worn out and feeling completely rotten.
It took a while for him to calm down. Eventually, Cal had let him go and held his hands instead. Ethan lay on his side, staring at Cal with tears still occasionally rolling down his cheeks. Dr McKay had said he'd get someone to clean up the glass but hadn't come back with anyone. Ethan knew he was giving Cal and Ethan some time to talk, maybe. Sort things out.
It wasn't as simple as that but Ethan kind of appreciated the gesture.
"What are you thinking, Nibbles?" Cal said after some time spent in silence. He was still holding Ethan's hands, and Ethan was drawing too much comfort from the simple touch to pull away. "You can talk to me, Eth. I'm here to listen, right now."
Ethan had barely spoken all day. It had been such a bad day. A part of him wanted to spill everything on his mind but a part of him wanted to curl up under the blanket and sleep. Preferably for a long time.
Ethan held Cal's hands tightly for a second and blinked, trying to get the blurriness from his vision. "W-wou-ldn't-t h-have b-bee-nnn s-so b-ba-d," he finally said, annoyed with himself for stuttering so much, for having so much trouble with speaking.
Cal leaned closer. "What wouldn't have been so bad?"
Okay, maybe this wasn't such a good idea.
"It's okay, Ethan. I promise."
Another tear rolled down his cheek. "C-Cal… i-if I t-te-ll y-you ss-some-th-thi-ngg, p-pro-mmm-ise n-not-t t-o t-ell?"
He could see Cal's cautiousness. "Go on, Eth."
"I-I…" he whispered, "I w-ishh y-you-d h-ha-ve s-su-cc-eed-ed…"
"Succeeded when, Eth?" Cal said quietly, mimicking Ethan's volume.
"I-in… i-n k-ki-ll… ki-ll-in-g m-me."
Cal didn't speak for a moment and his face filled with shock, then sympathy, then sadness. "Oh, Ethan. It will get better, you know."
"W-whe-n?" he screamed. His voice dropped back down to a whisper. "I h-ha-te th-is."
Cal started to stroke his hair back. "I know you do. It's not easy and you're recovering from serious injuries. But these things take time, Ethan. And you're making progress every day!"
"I-I c-an-'t ss-pe-ak p-prop… pr-o… pro-per-ly. I ca-n't w-wa-lk. I c-an-'t d-do a-ny-th-in-gg!"
"You can speak. You walked a bit today. You can do things, Ethan. I know, I know how hard it is. You can't do things that you could do before the attack. But Ethan, look at how far you've come in the last couple of months. You've made progress!"
"U-use-less-ss."
"No. Not useless. Never useless. Oh, Ethan. You will get better." He wiped Ethan's tears away with his thumb and continued stroking his hair. "Come on, you should get some rest. I'll stay here with you."
Ethan allowed himself to close his eyes, allowed himself to be comforted by the stroking of his hair and his big brother's voice, telling him stories of their childhood as he dropped off to sleep.
Panic-at-casualty: Thank you, glad it was okay! I was very worried that Ethan's reaction was really bad so I'm very relieved it isn't! An argument definitely isn't the best thing for them at the moment! Well I can't have them happy for too long ;)! I suppose that's the thing in situations like these, sometimes unfortunate things happen but Ethan's a very realistic person and does value just being alive right now. I'm so happy you're enjoying it! Hahahaha, I love reading them. Hope you enjoyed this one, and thank you for your review!
Bonnie Sveen Fan: It is, isn't it! Thank you very much, means a lot to hear. They are and unfortunately, it didn't get better in this chapter, but good always comes in the end! Thank you for your review.
heggyy: He is (slowly) getting better… kind of! Thank you for your review.