Beyond the Pain

Getting across thirty ninth street.

Thirty ninth was a busy street. You wouldn’t think it. But it was. Because drivers used it as a shortcut. To shave a few seconds off their commute. To get on with their important jobs. And, important lives.

It was twelve thirty. Drivers grabbing a quick take out. Before they returned to work.

Just two days after discharge I was limping slowly. As slow as a turtle returning to the ocean. As slow as a caterpillar traversing a stone cold sidewalk. As slow as the senate reaching a conclusion.

Should I walk the half block to the corner. Where thirty ninth street intersected with seventeenth avenue? Should I walk just twenty paces north and cross directly to the parking lot?

In the end I chickened out. I limped along the sidewalk that ran in front of my apartment. Forty two steps. I turned and limped across to the eastern side walk. Made the other side. Walked another half block. Turned into the McDonald’s parking lot. Walked across the parking lot. Looking right and left obsessively.

I had survived an almost fatal car crash. I was determined I would not meet death in a fricking McDonald’s parking lot. The first time I had visited McDonald’s. Since sixteen hours before my car crash.

I reached the front door.

Another, albeit minor, challenge.

I was using the wooden cane Kenny had given me. Properly. In my left hand. But the door opened to the left. What to do? I finally shifted my grip on the cane. Moved my hand down to the shaft. And, gripped the door handle and my cane, simultaneously. Pulled the door open. Stepped into the tiny foyer. Between the outer and inner doors.

The inner door opened right. I levered the door open. Stepped into McDonald’s inner sanctum. A cacophony of noise. More noise that I had heard in two months. I took two steps into the McDonald’s.

I couldn’t take the noise. And, the people. And, the smells.

I turned around and left.

Repeated my trick with the cane. And, the door opening. But, now in reverse. I walked carefully across the McDonald’s parking lot.

But, now I headed for the western most exit. The exit right and up a bit. Across thirthy nineth street from my apartment. The traffic had calmed a bit. I limped down the driveway into the parking lot. Aimed for a space between two cars. On the other side of thirty ninth.

Scuttled across. Like a beetle. Reached the western sidewalk. Decision time. Should I lift my left foot. Or, my right foot. Right it would be. I braced my cane on the concrete of the sidewalk. Raised my left foot. Planted it firmly on the concrete. And, then raised my weaker right foot. Up. Onto the concrete. Made it.

I limped the fourteen paces to my apartment sidewalk. Turned into it. Limped along the side walk to the front door. It opened to the right. Easier to open. I opened it. Stepped into the apartment foyer.

Faced the next challenge.

Pre-Publication Draft – Copyright Lyle T. Lachmuth

Kenny let the belt out just a tiny millimeter. To me it felt like a yard. I lurched forward. Out of control. Or, so it seemed. A fierce jerk brought me back. Into balance.

“You’re okay. Now let’s take that step.” Kenny said. “And this time hold onto the railing.”

I lifted my left foot. Stepped down. Felt my foot rest securely on the riser. Took a deep breath. Lifted my very week right leg. Set it down on the riser. Next to the left. Breathed again. Kenny stepped down behind me.

“Ready to go again,” Kenny said.

We did three more. They seemed to take forever. Finally we arrived at the bottom landing. Relieved. Shook. Exhausted. Happy.

“Great job Lyle.”

“I will see you tomorrow. Remember, tomorrow’s my last day with you. Someone else will be working with you. Till you are discharged. ”

I was instantly depressed. Kenny had prodded, provoked, and pushed me to get better. He helped me back into my wheelchair.

I looked again, down the apartment stairs. I can do this.

I gripped the railing with my left hand. Took a deep breath. Lifted my left foot. Guided it down to the riser below. Took a breath. Paused. Lifted my right foot onto the riser below. Took a breath. Paused.

And, did the same routine twenty three more times.

I had finally arrived at the first floor. I opened the corridor door. Turned to the right. Limped to the aparment foyer. Opened the glass security door. Limped into the foyer. Checked my mail box. Nothing.

Opened the door to the outside. It was glass. Like the inner door. I pushed it open. A blast of air hit me. I limped along the apartment sidewalk. Underneath the cottonwoods that grew on the property. I reached the public sidewalk.

And, faced the next challenge.

Copyright 2016 — Lyle T. Lachmuth, Pre-publication Draft