Crash and Burn and Never Learn
Posted: Thu Sep 06, 2018 8:14 am
(Andrea Raymer continued from Tomorrow's Garden)
Andrea sure hoped this was going to be her last disappointment for a long time. Abbott Northwestern was the biggest hospital in the Twin Cities, and that government lawyer guy had promised she'd get all the premium-super treatment she needed at absolutely no cost so long as Andrea and her mother signed the form. So how come the rooms were still cramped and the food was still terrible?
Bah, never mind that. What had she been expecting, a celebrity wing or something?
OK, maybe a little bit. At least she had the room to herself once visiting hours were over.
Shifting her position on the bed, Andrea drew the swiveling tray in front of her and fired up her brand new MacBook. It was a task accomplished with several jerky motions, cursing under her breath each time. Then, once she'd gotten it in front of her, she had to press her right index finger down with her left hand just to turn the damn thing on.
Each awkward movement brought a fresh pang of frustration. The doctors had told her that it would take time, that it would take physical therapy, that even though they hoped she'd recover completely there was no way to be absolutely certain. And she understood that, sure she understood it just fine, but it was just... it was fucking annoying, that's what it was. She'd had a bullet propelled into her back, and it had taken a fortuitous bounce, except for one tiny piece of bone that had chipped away and gone into one tiny cluster of nerves. Just enough so that she'd taken a lurching step and fallen into the arms of the nurse the first time she'd tried to walk a couple days ago. All those movements in her right arm and leg had become maddeningly foreign to her. And while they thought she was progressing well enough that she'd be walking under her own power soon enough, returning full motor control to the finer motions of her right hand would take weeks or months.
And that meant she would be typing one-handed for a while. Ugh. Andrea was not a patient person. But they'd been back in St. Paul for a week now, and she needed to start getting reconnected. If nothing else it would give her an outlet to channel that frustration. Get her to focus on the positives again, like the fact that she was fully alive and back in the States and would be able to go home and enjoy some actual food in the next week or so.
The new laptop had been a 'gift' from her mother. She'd of course been the first person they'd brought in to see her. And actually, the meeting had gone better than expected. She'd talked with Mom, they'd both been cordial, and that had been that. The next day she was there again, and they'd come to an agreement of sorts. All very clean and professional. It would, in her mother's terms, "prevent any further damage to either of us."
Yeah, fuck you too, mom.
But whatever. Andrea had no intention of loosing any further matriarchal rants unto the world at large for now.
For now she had other irons in the fire and other fish to fry and oh yay all those old sayings were coming back to her. As long as the song lyrics didn't follow. But there was so much out there, there were so many paths to walk and so many opportunities and there was oh-so-much she deserved after what she'd done to get here. There was so much that it was almost overwhelming, but she'd just take a deep breath and go one step at a time and she'd be fine.
First stop, Facebook, and what she hoped were about ten zillion new friend requests. She'd have to say hi.
Then she could start telling her story. The world was waiting for her.
Whole fucking world.
Andrea sure hoped this was going to be her last disappointment for a long time. Abbott Northwestern was the biggest hospital in the Twin Cities, and that government lawyer guy had promised she'd get all the premium-super treatment she needed at absolutely no cost so long as Andrea and her mother signed the form. So how come the rooms were still cramped and the food was still terrible?
Bah, never mind that. What had she been expecting, a celebrity wing or something?
OK, maybe a little bit. At least she had the room to herself once visiting hours were over.
Shifting her position on the bed, Andrea drew the swiveling tray in front of her and fired up her brand new MacBook. It was a task accomplished with several jerky motions, cursing under her breath each time. Then, once she'd gotten it in front of her, she had to press her right index finger down with her left hand just to turn the damn thing on.
Each awkward movement brought a fresh pang of frustration. The doctors had told her that it would take time, that it would take physical therapy, that even though they hoped she'd recover completely there was no way to be absolutely certain. And she understood that, sure she understood it just fine, but it was just... it was fucking annoying, that's what it was. She'd had a bullet propelled into her back, and it had taken a fortuitous bounce, except for one tiny piece of bone that had chipped away and gone into one tiny cluster of nerves. Just enough so that she'd taken a lurching step and fallen into the arms of the nurse the first time she'd tried to walk a couple days ago. All those movements in her right arm and leg had become maddeningly foreign to her. And while they thought she was progressing well enough that she'd be walking under her own power soon enough, returning full motor control to the finer motions of her right hand would take weeks or months.
And that meant she would be typing one-handed for a while. Ugh. Andrea was not a patient person. But they'd been back in St. Paul for a week now, and she needed to start getting reconnected. If nothing else it would give her an outlet to channel that frustration. Get her to focus on the positives again, like the fact that she was fully alive and back in the States and would be able to go home and enjoy some actual food in the next week or so.
The new laptop had been a 'gift' from her mother. She'd of course been the first person they'd brought in to see her. And actually, the meeting had gone better than expected. She'd talked with Mom, they'd both been cordial, and that had been that. The next day she was there again, and they'd come to an agreement of sorts. All very clean and professional. It would, in her mother's terms, "prevent any further damage to either of us."
Yeah, fuck you too, mom.
But whatever. Andrea had no intention of loosing any further matriarchal rants unto the world at large for now.
For now she had other irons in the fire and other fish to fry and oh yay all those old sayings were coming back to her. As long as the song lyrics didn't follow. But there was so much out there, there were so many paths to walk and so many opportunities and there was oh-so-much she deserved after what she'd done to get here. There was so much that it was almost overwhelming, but she'd just take a deep breath and go one step at a time and she'd be fine.
First stop, Facebook, and what she hoped were about ten zillion new friend requests. She'd have to say hi.
Then she could start telling her story. The world was waiting for her.
Whole fucking world.