Learning to Walk, a City Hospital Novel (6 page)

“It’s up to you -- just make sure you’ve locked your chair in place before you start and have your phone handy. Just in case.”

“Uh, yeah. I think I’ll just wait.” Kit shuddered. “The idea of falling again is pretty horrible.” He glanced at the clock. “So, I guess it’s me and movies for a few hours. Or daytime TV. I can feel my brain atrophying.”

“Trust me -- go for the movies.”

Kit laughed. “Yeah, maybe there’ll be a really good cheesy sci-fi thing on. I could go for a few aliens and explosions.”

“Sounds like fun -- as long as it isn’t the one with the aliens that come out of people’s stomachs -- that creeps me the hell out.” Neil chuckled. “Okay, I’ve got to go -- my next appointment is here. See you at three-thirty, okay?”

“I’ll be here.” Kit reached for the remote. “See you later, Neil.” He hung up and turned on the TV, looking for a distraction. It was a long time until three, and if he didn’t have something to think about, he’d spend the whole day feeling sorry for himself.

***

Neil rang the doorbell to Kit’s place at precisely three-thirty. He was a big proponent of showing up when you said you were going to -- not a bit early, not a bit late, but on time. He’d parked around the corner and waited the five minutes he needed to in order to be bang on time.

The door opened, and Kit wheeled back out of the way. “Come on in,” he said, cheerfully enough. His eyes looked a little tight at the corners, though, and his range of motion wasn’t anywhere near where it had been.

“Thanks.” Neil closed the door behind him and followed Kit into the living room. “You taking the pain pills?” Sometimes patients got stubborn, didn’t want to admit they needed the help, even if it was from a bottle.

“I took one at lunch. It wasn’t so much pain this morning as it was just muscle ache and tension.” Kit looked up at him and gave him a half smile. “Now, I hurt. Can’t say I don’t without it being a lie.”

Neil nodded. “I want you to tell me the truth. It’s not going to help your recovery at all if I set you up with exercises that are going to wind up making things worse instead of better.” He looked around the living room. “Are we setting up in here?” He’d just have to move the coffee table out of the way.

“Sure.” Kit nodded. “Better than my bedroom.” He smiled again. “You saw how tight the quarters are in there.”

“Yeah, we’ll make do.” Neil grabbed one end of the coffee table and dragged it over to the wall.

“All right, then.” Kit wheeled to the middle of the space and locked his wheels. “I’ll have you know that I spent the day mired in action movies, so I’m feeling all gung ho. My mind is way ahead of my body.”

“Your mind is more than half the battle, so it’s like you’ve been working at it all day. So, go you!”

Kit lifted his arms in a victory wave, like he’d just won a bout in the ring. “I’m awesome.” He grinned and then rolled his eyes at himself. “Okay, let’s do it. What torture awaits me first?”

Neil spent nearly an hour with Kit, slowly stretching out stiff muscles, carefully re-learning what hurt now that there were new bruises and sensitive spots. He was pleased to discover that they wouldn’t have to adapt the exercises too much, and he was sure it wouldn’t be long before Kit was back to where he’d been before his fall.

Still, the guy was sweaty and shaking by the time the hour was over. Neil clapped him gently on the shoulder. “Well done. You worked hard today.”

“That really sucked,” Kit admitted. “God. This is all going to be a memory someday, right?” He drank from a water bottle, his head back and throat working.

“It will, I promise. You’re doing a really great job.” Neil passed over the towel that had been sitting on the coffee table. “I don’t mind if you want to go get a shower or something.”

“You’d have to help.” Kit’s voice was utterly neutral, merely stating a fact.

“I can do that.” It wouldn’t be the first patient he’d helped bathe. Of course, most of them weren’t his age, good-looking, single, and gay. “Totally up to you -- and I won’t be insulted either way.”

Kit nodded. “Yeah, I know.” He looked down at himself and made a face. “Personally, I wouldn’t want a guy looking like this to cook me supper. Off to the shower we go -- I have hopes that the hot water will help.” Still, he wasn’t exactly meeting Neil’s gaze, and his cheeks were pink, likely from the workout.

“Have you got a seat in the shower?” He knew Kit didn’t want to totally redo his father’s house when the wheelchair, and his special needs weren’t going to be permanent, but some things made a huge difference and were worth it. Neil thought the shower seat was one of them.

“Yep.” Kit nodded. “I think my dad likes it, too, though he won’t say anything.” He put down the water bottle and unlocked his wheels. “Everything’s in there -- towels and stuff. I just need to rinse off, more than anything else.”

“Your dad usually help you with this?” He took hold of Kit’s wheelchair and started wheeling him down the hall -- he knew Kit could do it himself, but there was no reason for him to have to.

“Yeah. Gets me in, leaves, comes back after I’m done. I don’t need help with the washing, really, but getting over the edge of the tub and into the seat isn’t something I can manage on my own yet.”

“Cool, it’s no problem. I can even scrub your back if you want.” Oh God, had he said that out loud? And had it sounded as dirty as it had in his head?

“Loofah or bare hand?” Kit sounded like he was trying to make a joke, but his voice had a hitch in it that said something else altogether.

Neil swallowed and decided to ignore the question, to pretend he thought it was rhetorical. Kit was his patient and needed him to be there to help him recover, not make passes.

In the bathroom Kit cooperated by peeling off his shirt without comment and setting the water temperature the way he liked it. “So, the fastest way is for me lift myself up on the arms of my chair, you get my pants down past my hips -- or even off. After that, it’s a simple lift to the side, stuff you’ve done a million times.” He still wasn’t looking Neil in the face.

“Sounds simple enough. I’m ready when you are.” Neil used his most professional voice and kept his face impassive -- he didn’t want to embarrass Kit, but he knew Kit would feel so much better for having showered.

Kit took a breath, let it out, and lifted. His arms locked as he held himself above his chair, his legs angled down from the hip, resting on the lip of the chair. Neil made short work of pulling Kit’s sweats and underwear down and off. And if he noticed anything, he didn’t even admit it to himself.

“Okay.” Kit lowered himself down and reached a hand to the shower chair. “Once more.” He sounded just as clinical as Neil, or at the very least like he was trying to.

Neil swung Kit’s legs over the edge of the tub and settled them in what he hoped was a comfortable position. Then he pulled the shower curtain to give Kit some privacy. “I’ll be just on the other side of this if you need anything.”

“Good enough. Thanks.” Kit sounded a little relieved. “This won’t take long.” The sound of the water changed as Kit moved in the spray, presumably to get soap or shampoo. “I was right, by the way.”

“Right about what?”

“The water. It feels amazing.”

“That’s good.” Neil could just imagine the hot water running down over Kit’s body, washing the sweat away from his skin... He shook his head and turned to look at the toilet. There, that was unsexy. He didn’t know what was wrong with him today.

There were a few moments of silence from Kit and there was the unmistakable plop of soap suds hitting the tub. “Almost done, just need to rinse off.”

“Cool, take your time.” Neil was proud of the fact that he sounded perfectly normal.

“Mmm.” More soap hit the tub and Kit sighed, apparently content. “How come it feels so much better after working out than it does first thing in the morning?”

That had Neil chuckling. “Because the hot water eases the muscles you’ve worked on?” It had probably been a rhetorical question, but Neil couldn’t help answering anyway.

“I freaking love hot water.” Kit made another happy sound then shut off the water, the bathroom suddenly quiet save for the last few drips as the pipes drained. “That was awesome.”

“Cool.” He grabbed a towel from the rack on the back of the door and passed it around the curtain to Kit.

“Thanks.” The towel was taken and put to use, the shower curtain fluttering as Kit’s elbow knocked it. “I’m starving, now. You get a new job as soon as I’m out of here.” His voice became muffled and the shadow of his body showed he was drying his legs, bent at the waist. “You up for it?”

“Depends on what the job is.” Neil shooed his mind out of the gutter.

“Scullery maid cum sous chef. You get to be my minion.” Kit swept the curtain back, his towel in his lap. “It’s a crappy job, honestly.”

“If there’s food at the end of it, it’ll be worth it. I’m starving now, too.”

He pointed at the hamper where he’d dumped Kit’s clothing. “You have clean stuff you want me to fetch for you?”

“Oh. Crap, yeah. In my room, everything is in the dresser. Just a T-shirt and track pants, I guess. Unless you want me to dress up for our dinner, which is a whole other section of my room.” He wiped a few drops of water off his shoulders and winked. “The track pants are easier to get out of.”

Wow, Kit was actually flirting with him. It took Neil a moment to process that and reply. “It you get all dressed up, I’d be horribly under dressed, so there’s another vote for the track pants.”

“As long as we’re agreed.” Kit nodded at him and played with the hem of his towel. “I’ll be here when you get back. Promise.”

“What? Oh! Right.” He nodded, cursing himself as an idiot and hurried out to grab Kit’s clean clothes. He grabbed the first T-shirt and pair of track pants he found, not wanting to linger and invade Kit’s privacy any more than he had to.

True to his word, Kit was as he’d been when Neil left, though he was grinning. “Thanks. I know I shouldn’t tease, but sometimes it’s hard to resist.”

“No, no. I don’t mind. It just surprised me.” It was good actually, to see Kit feeling more at ease, happier.

“I’ll try to keep it under control.” Kit reached for the clothes, taking the T-shirt and pulling it on; his arms had goose bumps. “Ready?” He reached for his chair, leaning over, the towel still in his lap.

Neil got the pants around Kit’s ankles and started dragging them up, bringing them all the way up over Kit’s hips as he lifted. “There you go.”

He’d tried not to look, but he’d definitely noticed Kit’s package this time. He put that in a box in the back of his head.

“Thanks.” Kit settled himself, and this time his cheeks were definitely pink with a blush. He tossed the towel into the tub, over the chair. “I appreciate your help; this is way out of your job description.”

“You’re welcome. I was happy to do it.”

Kit smiled at him, his blush starting to fade a little. “Okay. It felt great; I could have stayed in there for half an hour. Ready to cook?”

“Sure, let’s go make food happen.” He headed toward the kitchen, letting Kit wheel himself this time. “I should get you in the pool and teach you some water exercises, if you’re a water baby.”

“Yeah?” Kit sounded intrigued. “Where’s the pool? I haven’t swum for competition or anything, but I enjoy it. Do you think I could float all right even if I can’t use my legs yet? I mean, my little foot wiggles won’t have me doing laps or anything, I know, but even just floating would feel good, I bet.”

“Your body is still buoyant, whether or not you can use your legs, so yeah, I’m pretty sure you could float.”

Kit rounded the kitchen table as they went in, heading to the fridge. “That would rock. Is the pool used a lot? Like, we’re not going to the Y during swimming lessons, right?” He opened the fridge and started getting out food, putting it on the table.

Neil chuckled over Kit’s sudden enthusiasm. “There’s a little pool for physio patients at the hospital, though there’d be more room at somewhere like the Y. I can look into how hard it would be to work something out with them for therapy.”

“Private is better.” Kit surveyed the table and went back to the fridge, emerging with a head of garlic. “For now, anyway.”

“You’ll get there, Kit. Every day is going to be a bit easier than the last.”

“It’s... getting there.” It looked like, for Kit, the admission had been a big one. “The work is still really hard, don’t get me wrong. And I don’t think I’m making progress fast enough. My biggest barrier right now is that I feel so goddamn useless all the time.”

“I know it’s hard. You’re doing the work and you want to skip ahead to the end already.”

Kit nodded. “That’s a big part of it. But the other part is that I really don’t have anything to do. I go to too many appointments to be able to hold down a job. I can’t take a class in anything because I either can’t get to where they are, or I’d miss too much time with therapies and doctors to be able to pass. I have no social life at all. I’m really, really not in a good position to be a productive person right now, and it’s hard to take.”

“Have you ever considered doing something online? I mean they offer courses and stuff, if that’s what you’re interested in.”

“I suppose.” Kit went to the counter and opened a drawer. He got out a peeler and a sharp chopping knife, then pulled a cutting board out of a lower cupboard. “It would fit my messed up schedule, as long as there weren’t people relying on me for group work. It’s just depressing, you know? Being stuck in the house all the time. I can’t even volunteer, really, since I’ve got limited mobility and transportation. Sometimes I think it would have been better if I’d just lost my legs. Then I could focus on building a new life instead of trying to get my old one back.”

Neil shook his head. “I can’t say one would be better than the other, but I can remind you of what you know. Whether this is harder or easier, it’s the hand you were dealt and you have to play it.”

“I know.” Kit moved to the table and started lining things up. The cutting board, the knife and peeler, a row of potatoes above them. “I do. And I’m really not that ungrateful. Merely struggling.” He sighed and wheeled to the stove where he bent to get a roasting pan out of the drawer. “I’ll think about a class, maybe in something way out of my comfort zone so I have to concentrate.”