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Show 113 forgotten how comfortable my toes could feel, uncurled. I can flex my hands open. After weeks of being bent and fixed, I am now free to move my body. I had forgotten how simple movement can be. I had forgotten how free it feels to will my hand open and it actually opens. I had forgotten. Dr. Jessop has come through my door and is looking at my limber legs. He lifts one and easily straightens it. It only slightly kicks back at him. "Well," he is beginning, taking a deep breath, and I am suddenly afraid of what is coming next. "It looks like we need to replace the catheter." I cannot be too happy until he is no longer there. I must appear as though he has discovered this all on his own. I must appear as though it was his idea, because I do not doubt that he will soon think that. I am wishing I could collaborate with him as a patient but this is not to be. Nevertheless, I do not know what to say or how to say it. But he is speaking anyway so it is just as well: "I'll talk with the surgeon and we'll get it scheduled." I have been here uncountable weeks now. I should be home next week. Just one more week. |