“There’s no way this is going to end well. Go and get some of the physical therapy workers.”
“I can do this.” I stress, letting the strap go and watching as it falls to the ground.
“You don’t. I can tell in your eyes you don’t. I was five seconds from face planting on the pavement.”
I look up at him, then nod my head. He’s right, and I’d rather nothing else happen to him. I rush into the clinic and ask for a couple people to come help with Jackson. They come out and move him quickly, and I frown at how easy they make it look.
Jackson, as always, looks incredibly uncomfortable.
Once he’s in his chair, the workers give us a little wave and head back inside.
“Ready?” I ask, feeling near nauseated at the thought of hearing bad news today.
Jackson doesn’t respond, and I take that as my answer and start pushing him inside.
We check in, and within a few minutes are in a large room with various exercise machines, bars, lifting mechanisms and a variety of chairs.
“Hello, Jackson. My name is Dr. Langley.” Jackson shakes her hand, giving her a nod. Dr. Langley is a tall, thin woman with short white hair chopped into a pixie cut. She keeps her glasses perched on the top of her head, the pads from the glasses leaving little red marks on the side of her nose.
“I’m Cara. This one doesn’t talk much.” I smile at her, trying to keep the tension light in the room.
The doctor smiles back at me. “That’s all right. Well, don’t be intimidated by everything in the room. We’re not quite there yet. Today I’m planning to help you with various stretching routines, get the blood flowing and keep up that muscle mass. Losing muscle mass is big when it comes to any form of para or quadriplegia. Sticking with the physical therapy won’t be a problem solver, but it’ll definitely help.”
I nod, taking in every word she’s saying. “Should I be helping him stretch at home?”
She nods, grabbing a few belts from a nearby table. “That definitely wouldn’t hurt. It doesn’t need to be all the time, but keeping the blood flowing is always beneficial. The problem with him being so immobile is that he is prone to getting sores. We try to keep him away from gaining additional issues and health problems. We want him to be healthy, isn’t that right, Jackson?”
He stares at her, letting out a little grunt.
She laughs. “Trust me, I’ve dealt with worse. Let’s get started, yeah? I’m going to start with lifting your arms, moving them in a circular motion. Then we’ll move onto the legs.”
This goes on for the next hour. She stretches his arms and legs. She works out his ankles and feet. She takes his hands and massages his wrist and fingers. It’s when she asks him to try to start squeezing that he loses his cool.
“Okay, Jackson, I want you to try and squeeze my fingers.” She has both of his hands wrapped around hers, holding his arms straight out in front of him.
He focuses so hard I can see sweat start to appear along his temple. His eyes narrow as he zeros in on his hands, trying with literally every fiber in his being to squeeze.
“No problem.” She shakes out his hands and puts them on his lap. “Let’s try your feet.” She’s taken off his shoes a while ago, leaving his sock covered feet on her lap. “Let’s see if you can push down on my hands at all.” She places her palms at the bottom of his feet.
Waiting.
Waiting.
“Enough! This is enough.” He barks out, sweat trailing down towards his eye. I walk forward and wipe it away, and he whips me a vicious stare.
Dr. Langley drops his feet and steps back. Patting his shin, she steps back. “That’s okay. You did great today, Jackson. It’s about time our session is over, anyway. You guys are headed over to see Dr. Peterson, correct?”
“Yes, we’re headed there now.”
“I’ll go update the notes so that he can look at those before he meets with you. Jackson, it was great to meet you. Cara, I’ll see you next time?” She lifts her eyebrows at me, and I give her a nod and an anxious smile.
“I’ll be here.” Always.
She smiles and heads back to her office, and me and Jackson head out, walking through the lobby and towards the other side of the building