by J. P. Larson
“You can make your leg twitch on command?”
“Sure. It’s very dramatic.”
“Would you show me?”
“Pamela, stay out of my mind for this.” Pamela nodded. Alex concentrated, and his right leg gave a brief twitch, then another. After a third one, he quit and started breathing again.
“I imagine that hurts.”
“Yes. No drugs.”
“Mr. Grey, you are a very lucky man. Your leg is about a week ahead of schedule. This bodes very well for your long-term recovery.”
“I don’t need a pep talk, Doctor. I need to know why my leg doesn’t work and what we’re going to do to make it work.”
“Actually, Mr. Grey, a pep talk is exactly what you need. Now, I have never lied to you, and I’m not about to start now.”
Alex thought for a moment. “Okay, Doctor.”
“Twitching doesn’t usually happen until the first week is over. You twitched after twenty-four hours.”
“Twitched.”
“Yes. But would you like a little proof of your own?” When Alex nodded, the doctor began raising the head of the bed so that Alex was sitting up.
“But your hand on your thigh, if you would. So you can feel the big muscle.” Alex did as he was told. “Clench that muscle.”
Alex concentrated, and the leg twitched.
“Did you feel that, Mr. Grey?”
“Pamela, you try.” Pamela moved to his side and laid her hand where Alex had put his. Alex concentrated, and his leg twitched.
“I felt something, Alex.”
Alex twitched his leg. Pamela passed out, crashing to the floor.
* * *
Pamela was sitting in a wheel chair. The doctor was leaning against the wall. Both of them were looking quietly at him.
“I’m so sorry, Pamela. You said it was dampened.”
Neither of the women said anything.
“I don’t deserve the silent treatment! It wasn’t on purpose. It didn’t seem that bad to me, and if it were dampened, I thought it would just appear uncomfortable.”
Finally, the doctor spoke. “How much sleep have you been getting?”
“Several hours, twice a day.”
“Let me guess. It begins when your wife leaves? She’s been putting you to sleep.”
“What’s wrong with that? Otherwise I toss and turn, trying to get comfortable, but failing.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s actually a very good idea. But doesn’t this tell you something?”
“That my leg hurts? I already know that.”
“You’re taking the drugs, Alex,” his wife told him.
“No, I’m not,” he said.
“Yes, Alex, you are.”
“Over my dead body.”
The doctor put a hand on Pamela’s shoulder before she said anything else. “Mr. Grey, would you explain to me why you are so adamant on this? Especially given the results your attitude has had on your wife. I get the impression you care deeply for her. What is so terrible you would risk her in this fashion?”
Alex paused. “I’ve been shot up before. I can take it.”
“I’ve seen the scars. But why the fear of drugs?”
He paused again, then spoke in a frantic rush. “I’ve seen men hurt badly before. I’ve seen what the drugs do to them. You leave the hospital, but you still need the pain killers. It can take two or three years to get off of them.” He paused. “Doctor, that is two or three years of not being able to ship out. Two or three years where no one trusts me, because they don’t know how many drugs are in my system. Doctor, it means my father will almost definitely discharge me from the military!” He paused. When he said the next words, his voice cracked. “And it means my wife will ship out without me.”
“Mr. Grey, I am sorry. I should have had this conversation with you a long time ago. You have my apologies.”
“So we’ll do it my way. No drugs.”
“I’ll make a deal with you,” said the doctor. “You and I will come to an agreement right now. Or I will discharge you from the hospital immediately. Help you get dressed, toss you in a wheelchair – I suspect you’ll pass out. And then we’ll roll you out the door.” She let that sink in. “You might surprise us and learn to walk all by yourself someday. I doubt it.”
“She wouldn’t let you. Pamela wouldn’t. And her mother wouldn’t.”
“Mr. Grey, neither your wife or your mother-in-law own or operate this hospital. You are a stubborn, off-worlder man who refuses to accept the treatment we are providing. You have continually disrupted the operations of this institution and have terrorized half the nursing staff with your forward behavior and willful disposition. We will discharge you, and the people on this planet will applaud us for it.”
Alex looked at his wife, who crossed her arms and said nothing.
“Doctor…” Alex’s voice caught in his throat. “Please. No drugs.”
“Let me paint another picture. Imagine, three weeks from today. You, with your wife supporting you on one side, one of the orderlies on the other, standing, taking several steps, then sitting down.”
Alex didn’t say anything.
"Mr. Grey, you appear to be under a misconception. Addiction to drugs such as morphine is not a long term problem. When the patient no longer requires the drug for control of pain, the addition can be broken in as little as two weeks with some patients."
Alex looked at her in disbelief. "So why are some guys on them so long?"
"Because they still need them to control pain. Mr. Grey, if you want our help, you will accept the drugs. When you no longer need them, it will only take me a few weeks to break your addiction. I anticipate you will be drug-free three months from today. If you fully cooperate with me, I will promise you that.”
Alex still stayed quiet.
“Mr. Grey, you need your wife’s help and support on this. It’s very convenient that you’re so comfortable with her. Many men aren’t, and I would never have expected it of an off-worlder man of your obvious talents. She can help monitor what you’re doing, and you’ll learn to walk much faster. But she can’t help if she’s passing out all the time.”
“How much?” Alex finally asked.
“Do you want your wife’s help?”
“Yes.”
“Then you will take enough drugs so she feels no more than discomfort when she’s helping you.”
“And how much dampening effect does our link have?”
“That’s hard to quantify. Hmm. You know how your toe feels when you stub it?” Alex nodded. “And then again, about 15 seconds later?” Alex nodded again. “About that much.”
“Well then, Doctor, we still have a problem. You can get my normal level down low enough for your criteria with fairly light dosages. But I don’t think you can give me enough drugs to dampen things that far during therapy without putting me out.”
“Let me worry about that.”
Alex paused. “You’ll keep that promise? Three months, not a drop?”
“You have my solemn promise, Mr. Grey.”
“I’ll do whatever you want.”
* * *
“That’s very good, Alex,” said his mother.
“Good boy, Alex. You can wiggle your toes.” Alex was smiling.
“I have to go, Son,” she said.
“You’ll be back tomorrow?”
“I mean go home, go. To Random Walk. Your father and the rest of the fleet are coming with. We’ve been gone for two months, and there are problems brewing at home that need my on-site attention. I’m sorry we won’t be here to see you start walking.”
“Anything serious?”
“Not once I’m there to deal with it. We’re taking Grey Ghost with us for the rest of its refi
t. We’ll send it back once it’s ready, or Pamela can come get it.”
“Mom, thanks.” Alex looked at her through blurry eyes.
She hugged him. “You’re welcome, Alex. Come home soon.”
“I will, Mom.”
“Your father sends his love. You know how he is about goodbyes.”
“Tell him: thanks for bringing the cavalry.”
“I will. I’m glad you’re alive, and I think you picked a fine wife.”
“She likes you, too.”
* * *
Pamela flinched every time Alex moved his leg.
“Doctor?” said Alex.
“I see it, Mr. Grey. Keep working.”
“She’s flinching.”
“Keep working, Alex,” Pamela ordered.
“You’re flinching inside, too. It doesn’t help.”
“It hurts,” said Pamela.
“Tell me about it.”
“Let’s take a break for a moment.” The doctor grabbed a chair and thrust it towards Pamela. Alex sat back in the wheel chair.
“Mr. Grey, your wife and I discussed this last night.”
“Last night? Behind my back? You were talking about my case behind my back?”
“Of course,” the doctor replied. “About four or five times a week, although sometimes it’s very brief.”
Alex glared at Pamela. “That’s how it works here,” she told him. “You know that. So don’t sulk about it.”
Doctor Tate spoke again. “Your body is soaking up the drugs as fast as we put them in. You’re becoming addicted.”
“I’m already addicted, Doctor. I told you that would happen.”
“I can still make my promise, Mr. Grey, if we don’t increase the dosages any further.”
“And agree to hurt my wife?”
“Yes. And agree to hurt your wife.”
“Or?”
“Or we increase the drugs and stop hurting Ms. Grey. And I miss my promise, for which I apologize profusely.”
“By how much?”
“Another three or four months. If the problem doesn’t become any worse. Which I don’t think it will, but it could.”
“So three or four months on top of the two that you still have?” The doctor nodded. “In the hospital the entire time?”
“Actually, no. Ms. Grey has been making arrangements to take you home next week. You’ll come to the hospital once a day for therapy. We’ll send someone to you twice a day. I’ll come every other day to see how the drugs are working out and keep an eye on you.”
Alex glared at Pamela again.
“It was going to be a surprise!” she said, defending herself. “I’m not hiding anything from you. Why would I hide good news? I just wanted to wait until we were sure.”
“Do the amount of drugs we’re using affect the amount of progress on the therapy?”
“Yes and no. More drugs slow the process. But you’re wife’s involvement speeds it up. If she starts to bow out, we won’t have that advantage. I think it’s about even.”
“So I go home next week regardless?”
“If things go well between now and then.”
“I go home next week. Either I put Pamela through quite a bit of pain, but no drugs at the end of the three months. Or no pain, but I’m still addicted for a while.”
“That sums it up, Mr. Grey.”
“So what did you two decide.”
“We decided to let you decide, Alex.”
Alex thought for a moment. “When does the Grey Ghost sail, Pamela?”
She looked at him. “Don’t ask me that.”
“Does it wait for the end of the first three months?”
“Barely.”
“So either I torture you, or you ship without me?” Pamela nodded quietly. “Wonderful time to leave the decision to me,” Alex said finally.
Tears started to well in Alex’s eyes. “So you’ll have to fill my job with someone else.”
“Linda told me she could afford to loan me Kari for a few months. You would have a job when you were ready.”
“You would leave me here. Alone. Subject to your mother’s decisions about me!”
“What if Pamela drops out of the sessions, Doctor? We dramatically reduce the drugs.”
“She’s helping, Mr. Grey. A lot. Your progress will drop abruptly. You won’t ship with them. You may never ship with them.”
“Pamela promised me a job, even if the leg didn’t work.”
“Your father, Linda, and both our mothers talked to me about that, Alex.”
“You’ll rescind your promise?”
“My duty to your safety and the safety of the ship comes before a poorly-made promise. You would be a threat to the entire ship in any sort of emergency. If you think about it, you’ll know we’re right.”
“Alex told me we would do it my way. Let’s get back to work, Doctor. I’m good for another little while, anyway.”
* * *
“Two more steps, Alex,” encouraged the doctor. “Then you can rest.”
Alex took the first step slowly, saw the sweat beading on Pamela’s forehead. He leaned heavily on the supports and brought the left leg forward. He had learned that “a step” doesn’t include his good leg.
Alex gritted his teeth, hissed, and took the last step. An aide was immediately ready with his wheelchair, and Alex grunted as he allowed the aide to support his weight while Alex sat down.
The doctor watched all this quietly. Alex looked at her, then at the therapist. “You two want me to walk back, too, don’t you?”
“Of course. You don’t get off that easily.”
“Then could I have a little something extra for the road?”
The doctor eyed him slowly. She didn’t look very happy with the request. Then she looked at Pamela, who was leaning heavily against Alex’s chair.
“Ms. Grey,” said the doctor. “I think I need to yell at your husband.”
“Excuse me?” she said after a moment, surprised at the proposed violation of protocol. “Alex, what did you do?”
“Nothing, dear,” he replied. “Tell the good doctor she has your permission to yell at me, then go get something to drink.”
Pamela looked between the two of them for a moment. “Okay,” she said finally. “Whatever he did, he wouldn’t listen to me about it, anyway.” She looked at the doctor. “I’ll expect an explanation.”
“Of course,” said the doctor. “But take your time. You’re done helping your husband today. He needs to start working on his own a bit more.”
“I’ll be back, Alex,” she said before leaving.
Alex paused.
There was no response. Alex looked at the doctor. “Are you really going to yell?”
“You’re a sneaky one, Mr. Grey. And a lousy actor.”
“I’m a fine actor or you would have caught me sooner than this.” He paused. “But she was hurting.”
“You agreed to do this her way. Please, Mr. Grey. Let your wife and I worry about your wife. You worry about you.”
Alex looked at the floor for a moment, studying the tiles. Finally he looked into the doctor’s kind eyes. “All right doctor. Do I get to walk back now?”
“Anytime you’re ready.”
The therapist came over with an aide to help Alex stand, but he shrugged them off. He checked that the wheels of the c
hair were locked and that his feet were both flat on the floor, then used his arms and his good leg to stand up. However, he didn’t shake off the steadying hand of the therapist.
Alex reached out and grabbed the parallel bars in front of him, using them for balance. A step forward, then a brief pause. Another step forward, another pause. During the pauses, Alex kept the bulk of his weight on his left leg and his arms. He looked at the doctor, who was studying him.
“Does the leg get stronger faster if I put more weight on it?”
She nodded.
Alex nodded back, then slowly, very slowly, he let his right leg take more of his weight. He clamped down on its attempt to collapse under him, hissing.
Step. Hiss. Pause and breathe. Repeat.
Alex reached the end of the bars. The aid was waiting with his wheelchair. Alex ignored it and hopped around, facing back the way he had come.
“Doctor?” asked the therapist.
Alex turned his head. “Unless I am going to do physical damage, we’ll stop when I say stop.”
“If you fall, Mr. Grey, you will do physical damage. I expect you to stop before your strength runs out.”
Alex nodded. Step, hiss, pause and breathe.
He reached the other end and turned around. And got to the end.
“Are we done now?” asked the doctor.
Alex turned around. “Four more,” he said.
“One,” said the doctor.
Alex glared. “Two,” he replied.
“Tell me that at the other end,” the doctor suggested. Alex reached the other end and turned around. “Last one,” said the doctor. Alex looked at her and nodded.
Step, hiss, choke back a scream, pause. The door opened as Alex was taking his next step.
Pamela collapsed in the doorway.
Installation
Alex grabbed his cane, then looked around the room one more time. He glanced over his shoulder at Pamela standing behind me. “Roll away,” he told her. “I can’t wait to see your home.”
“Our home, Alex,” she said. He nodded. Pamela reached down and unlocked the wheels, then rolled him out of his room and out into the hallway. They were met by the doctor.
“Mr. Grey, you do remember my instructions?”
“Go home, two steps to bed. With an aide on either side and Pamela pulling the wheelchair out of the way. That’s all the exercise I get today.”
