Page 20 of Unforgettable
Trinity waved her hands shaking her head.
“Not at all. Those roadblocks could be a lack of muscle control, your subconscious resisting certain movements or exercises because its reminded of the horrible accident you were in. Chronic stress caused by your trauma can also lead to high levels of inflammation and muscle aches, making you feel more pain during therapy that isn’t really that harsh.”
“So can we correct that?”
“Yes. Your brain has an inherent ability to rewrite itself. That’s my job. This is only our third session together. It takes time to determine physical and emotional weaknesses. Determining any one of those roadblocks may be your root cause, will in turn, alleviate half the battle. Tomorrow we’ll startwith practices to target those. And eventually it won’t be chronically painful. “
Later that afternoon, Randi stood slowly for the first time. With Elena’s help.
The room tilted slightly beneath her.
“Easy,” Elena said beside her, one steadying hand near her elbow. “Short steps only. Your body needs to remember how to move again.”
Randi nodded faintly, taking a careful step forward.
Then another.
Each step was uncertain. Each a quiet victory. She suspected infants felt exactly like this when attempting their very first steps.
They moved slowly down the corridor, the world outside her room feeling both foreign and strangely alive. The hustle of blue scrubs andwhite lab coats approaching from every direction, voices intermixing, directing, ordering, reacting and life continuing.
She hadn’t realized how much of the normalcy she’d missed.
They passed by a brightly colored door. She could hear cheerful, giddy laughter as it drifted out from a two-inch opening located at the bottom of the closed door.
Randi twisted to the right and paused.
“What’s in there?”
Elena turned slightly to glance in that direction.
“Oh, that’s the preschool section of our Pediatric Wing. Ages three to five”
Another burst of laughter.Small. Unfiltered.
Randi smiled, pointing at the door and asked.
“Can we…?”
Elena studied her for a moment, remembering what her PT recommended in Randi’s therapy report … reinforcement of positive visualization. She smiled softly.
“Most definitely but not for very long, okay?”
The room was alive with color.
Walls were painted in soft murals. Tables scattered with crayons, markers, and paper. A pint-sized table seated for eight was occupied with six adorable munchkins in different stages of recovery or treatment. Some were drawing, some coloring, others simply watching.
Their eyes turned toward her as she entered, curious of the stranger, wearing a hospital gown like them, her hand tucked in a slingmassively wrapped in sterile gauge, with the tips of her fingers only exposed.
“Hi,” one little green-eyed blonde with Shirley Temple curls spoke, her voice bright despite the IV taped to her arm. “How did youse get dat boo boo?”
Randi smiled without thinking and raised her bandaged hand. It felt… natural and she took a step forward unassisted.
“Well, hello there, sweetie,” she replied. “I fell off a horse who got scared by a bunny rabbit.”
Elena chuckled, her smile broad. Quick thinking.
“A bunny rabbit?” the child squealed with hearty laughter.
