Winners (13 page)

Her father carried her out to the car, and put her wheelchair in the trunk with her suitcase. She had a tote bag with her iPod, some DVDs and CDs, her laptop, magazines, and books. And her father had assured her that she would have a private room. They had told him that families were expected to be involved, and there were even accommodations if he wanted to stay there, but since they lived so close by, he and Lily agreed that it didn’t make sense for him to stay at the hospital, which seemed more reasonable for people who had come from far away. And in spite of everything she’d read about Craig on the Internet and from all the literature they’d sent them, Lily didn’t know what to expect, and she was scared.

She knew that most people went to Craig anywhere from one to four months after their injuries, so she was right in the normal range, almost two months after her accident had happened. The material they had sent said that the average age of their patients was thirty-eight, more than twice her age, 75 percent of them were male, and their most common age range was eighteen to twenty-five. Half of their patients’ injuries were motor-vehicle related, only 10 percent were sports injuries, and they admitted no patients under the age of sixteen. So she was going to be at the lower age range of their patients. And a tutor had been arranged for her, so she could keep up with school. As a junior, this was an important year for her, and she had already missed almost two months. She was hoping to finish at Craig by the end of May, so she could attend the last few weeks of junior year at school. It would depend on how well she did in rehab.

She was going to have extensive physical therapy, and there was a long list of classes to help her function efficiently in the real world. But she had also read that more than half their patients had incomplete spinal injuries, which meant that they were less impaired than she was, since her SCI was complete. There were also patients at Craig with brain injuries, but Lily would be participating in groups and classes with other spinal cord injury patients. And the literature showed that she was expected to work very hard in order to achieve independence and be able to lead a productive life in spite of her injury. The medical referral had been made by Jessie, and all of Lily’s medical records had preceded her there. Although they had created a friendly rehab setting, it was a hospital above all.

Most of what she would be doing was physical therapy to get the functional parts of her body strong and healthy. They were going to teach her how to travel on an airplane alone, how to manage when she got back to school, and if she wanted it, she could have driver’s training in a special vehicle. They had swimming pool therapy and an amazing assortment of recreational activities, some of which appealed to Lily, even a special course in scuba diving. The one that had inevitably caught her attention on the list was skiing. She had no idea how they were going to pull that off, but it was obviously of interest to her. They also had field trips and outings and attended cultural events, but some of them sounded too adult to her. She was more interested in seeing her friends, hanging out, going out with them, or listening to music, like any other kid her age. She just hoped her friends actually did come to visit her, as often as they could and were willing.

Lily was silent on the ride there. Craig Hospital was in Englewood, five miles from downtown Denver, and very close to Cherry Hills Village, where they lived. And as far as she was concerned, they arrived there much too quickly. Her father got her chair out of the trunk and helped her into it, and a minute later he wheeled her into the lobby, carrying her suitcase. There was a sign, which directed them to admissions. Her father gave them his insurance card and his credit card and signed her in. And they gave her her room assignment, and told them where it was. She had the private room her father had promised her, and they handed her a key. The woman at the admissions desk had been very friendly, and told Lily where to go for her schedule once she had settled in. And as Lily looked up at him, she saw that her father looked as nervous as she felt. He hated leaving her there. He couldn’t bring himself to part with her even for a few weeks, and now it had come to this. At least she would be nearby, so he could visit her anytime, although it sounded like they were going to keep her busy. The whole point of her being there was that she had much to learn. And Bill realized that he had a lot to do in the house, to make it livable for her when she returned. He had seen, even in a few hours the night before, that the steps in the entrance hall, the layout of the kitchen, her bathroom, and even her bedroom were going to be too difficult for her.

Lily’s room assignment was on the second floor in the west building, which had several cafeterias, including a large one in the basement. There were plenty of places and opportunities to eat, which was the least of Lily’s concerns. Mainly she was nervous about meeting the other patients and the therapists who would be working with her, and learning what would be expected of her. This suddenly seemed a lot harder than qualifying for or training for the Olympics.

Her father lingered for a few minutes and helped her unpack her suitcase, and he noticed that everything was built at heights that worked for her from a wheelchair. The closet was easily accessible, the bathroom had everything she needed. It reminded him that he’d even have to redo her closets, since she could no longer reach anything that was hanging, and the shelves were too high for her as well.

After they’d unpacked, Lily went to the office she’d been instructed to go to, to get her schedule, and she saw that she had physical therapy that afternoon, swimming after that with an evaluation of her pool skills, driver’s ed if she wanted to take it, or alternately a massage, and she was scheduled to meet with her tutor at six o’clock. She had a full afternoon. They were allowing her the morning to look around and get situated, and they gave her a list of all the locations where she could eat, with a caveat that patients were discouraged from eating in their rooms. Socialization was highly encouraged. And there were crafts courses, movies, chess, and an assortment of activities offered at night. Bill was impressed when she showed it to him, and then reluctantly he decided to leave. She kissed him goodbye outside her room, and he promised to call her later and drop by that night. He knew that the house was going to be empty without her, and there were tears in his eyes as he drove away. He felt like he was abandoning her, but he knew that in the long run this was going to be good for her. He just wished that the accident had never happened. It was no one’s fault, which had already been determined, it was just a fluke, but a cruel turn of fate.

Lily decided to go back to her room, after her father left, and listen to her iPod. She was feeling anxious, and she knew it would relax her to listen to some music. She wanted to call Veronica, but she realized she was in school. Lily had her cell phone with her, so she could call and text her father and her friends and they could reach her.

She had her eyes closed and was listening to the music, with the door ajar, and was startled, when she opened her eyes, to find herself looking at a boy in a wheelchair in the doorway. He was watching her and was about her age. He had long, straight blond hair, and he seemed curious about her, as she took the earpiece out of her ear.

“Hi,” she said, looking at him shyly. “I’m Lily.” She noticed that he had long legs, and was wearing what looked like golf gloves with little sticks on them, and he was using a battery-operated wheelchair rather than the manually operated one she used that she had to roll herself. His was operated by a joystick, and he moved it deftly to enter the room. He smiled at her as he did. He was a good-looking boy.

“I’m Teddy. I wondered who was getting the private room. I have one too. But that’s only because I’ve been here longer than anyone else.”

“How long have you been here?” They were curious about each other, and he looked at ease as he moved around the room.

“Since I was two,” he said nonchalantly, and she looked startled. “I’m just kidding. I’ve been here for a little more than two years. I have a C5 and 6 injury, complete. I was in a riding accident. They let me come here at fifteen, with special permission. And I’ve only been here for two years because my parents are afraid to take me home. My diaphragm is compromised,” he said blithely, “so sometimes I can’t breathe. Like when I get a cold. So that’s everything about me. Oh, and I’m seventeen. So what brings you here?” She knew from what he’d said to her that he had a cervical injury that was farther up the spine than hers, which was why his diaphragm and lungs were involved. She wondered if that was why he had the sticks on his gloves, and it made her suspect that his arms might be involved too, but she didn’t want to ask.

“I had a freak skiing accident,” Lily said carefully as she saw him glance at the CDs on her desk and nod approval. He seemed very much at home, but it wasn’t surprising after two years. It sounded sad to her that his parents were afraid to take him home. She couldn’t imagine her father leaving her there a minute more than he had to. “Where are you from originally?” She was intrigued by him, and happy that they were the same age. He had a handsome open face and gentle eyes.

“Philadelphia. They don’t come to visit me either. My mother is always running around to horse shows, and my father runs a bank. They are
very important people
!” he said with a Philadelphia Main Line drawl, and she laughed. “Where are you from?”

“Here,” she said simply. “Denver.” He nodded.

“I like your music. So what kind of freak accident did you have?”

“I fell off a chairlift, when the cable broke.” He made a face and looked sympathetic.

“Ooh, that sounds nasty. And scary. I flew over a jump, without the horse. I usually rode better than that. So where’s your SCI?” “T10,” she told him, which was considerably lower than his, which was why she didn’t have the respiratory complications he did and had full use of her arms. “Complete,” she added, in the vocabulary she had learned in the last two months.

“So here we are, at Camp Craig. You can go kayaking, canoeing, fishing, scuba diving, swimming, sail a Hobie Cat, play Foosball, billiards, and table tennis, take acting classes, learn to use blow darts, use a sip-and-puff pole or a sip-and-puff rifle, take singing lessons, go hiking, or hot air ballooning. We go to amusement parks in the summer, and learn to plant a garden. I take art classes, and unfortunately, in addition to all that, at our age, they make you go to school. I’m a junior, what are you?”

“Me too,” she said, smiling at him. “I saw skiing on the list too.”

“You must be incurable, if you want to go skiing again.”

“I was training for the Olympics,” she said softly, and he looked sympathetic again.

“Yeah, there’s skiing, but I haven’t tried it. I don’t qualify. They have horseback riding too, but I figured I’d quit while I was ahead.” There was certainly enough to do, and she couldn’t imagine how they fit it all in. “And they have massage therapy and acupuncture, which I kind of like,” he admitted. “And they have a dentist, a dermatologist, and an eye doctor. Full service rehab, the best one in the country,” he said proudly, “otherwise I wouldn’t be here. My parents always sent me to the best camps too. Anything to keep me busy and get me out of their hair.” He said it matter-of-factly, and it sounded sad to her. “Do you have brothers and sisters?” he asked with interest, and she shook her head. “Me neither. Maybe we were twins who were separated at birth,” he suggested, and she laughed. He glanced at the clock on her wall then and saw that it was noon. “We should probably go to the cafeteria before everybody else gets there. The food is pretty good.”

She noticed that he was trim and in good shape, which wasn’t always the case with spinal injury patients, she had discovered. Some had a tendency to put on weight from being sedentary, but he looked young and fit, and had powerful shoulders and upper arms. She had noticed that her own arms were getting stronger from rolling her chair herself when no one pushed her. “I’ll show you where the cafeteria is,” he offered, and she followed him out of the room. He was faster because his chair was motorized, and he had to slow down for her. He looked happy to be talking to her as they rolled along side by side.

“Are there a lot of kids our age here?” she asked him. It was nice having a guide and made being there seem less scary.

“Some. The population changes all the time. Sometimes it’s younger people, sometimes older. We’re still among the youngest ones here, since the lower age limit is sixteen, but almost no one stays longer than four months. Their goal is to get you home. They must have forgotten to tell my parents that when they checked me in.” They had been to visit him once in two years, but he didn’t say that to Lily. He had become kind of a permanent fixture at Craig, since he had nowhere else to go. The holidays had been tough the first year, but he was used to it now. He had just spent his third Christmas at Craig.

The cafeteria was a large, friendly room, with tables set up for four and six people, and some for two. They were encouraged to eat in groups and meet new people.

“There are usually about fifty SCI inpatients living here at any given time, so we all know each other pretty well,” Teddy told her, as they went to order their lunch, which would be brought to them on trays. Teddy and she were both on the full meal plan, and he ordered a healthy lunch, and she did the same, before they went to a table. There were already a number of other people at tables around the room, including technicians and therapists and medical personnel who were eating there too. “Did I tell you we play volleyball and basketball?” he added, and she smiled. He was a one-man welcoming committee and made it sound like a luxury cruise, although it was still one she would rather have not been on. But it was certainly better than she’d feared, and she was happy to have met someone her age so soon. And Teddy seemed hungry for the companionship of his peers.

“I’ll introduce you to my friends when they come to visit. The kids from my ski team said they would come by too,” she volunteered, and Teddy looked skeptical.