Fallen Angel (ch41)

                            start of  FALLEN  ANGEL

👰 Since leaving NHS care after two more surgeries, this was the first day of being coherent enough at her new facility to remember where she was on waking. Her painkillers and sedation had been on the heavy side, but levelled reduction was refreshing her memory bit by bit.

   Breakfast over, she was pillow-plumped and angled as close to upright as was comfortably possible.  Her room was of the highest standard with modern decor and homely necessities; side screen plasma on wall with cable TV, hi-fi and Wi-Fi, spacious en suite, midi fridge - all the requisites any luxury hotel may offer.  But as soon as a doctor or nurse enters the room starkly reminded one that this was no holiday break, no matter how efficient and pleasant the surroundings. A regular stream of having digital numbers squished from your arm, catheter changes and needles rammed into the back of your hand were but a few to put paid to that.  As beautiful a retreat as Rowan Lea is, taking just one step from a room puts one in clinical overdrive. Still, having ones own space (albeit with interruptions) was better than being in a ward with others.

Neil showed up for this morning's consultation over Saskia's impending therapies (he was funding her stay after all) and it sounded as if she was in for one laboriously hard time. Prior to him attending, he was informed that she had not been her bright and breezy self.  Since visiting times were far more permissible here, her assigned nurse, Lawrence, suggested that Neil took her outside for a short while; the day was beautiful and she hadn't as yet taken in any fresh air. It might even help lighten her mood. 

   It was harrowing to watch her being hoisted into an modified wheelchair. The cast on her right leg needing careful management, and extreme wariness washed over her face during the process, but she was safely ensconced in no time. And since Neil had never moved any chair with wheels apart from an office one, Lawrence thought it best to accompany them. Directions and sensor doors were well signposted, but her particular chair was more awkward to to maneuver, so the extra guidance wouldn't go amiss.

   General chit-chat arose from the two men as they walked, with Lawrence pointing out some of the rooms her recovery would take place in. Neil was, however, more relieved to have gotten her to the Phase 1 Boundary destination - a distance with a quick returning time if a need were to arise - without bashing her leg into anything. The male nurse left after settling them at a courtyard table all ensconced under a huge marquis shelter-roof. 

 Curiosity had Neil walking over to the enclosing fence for a better view, and was struck with wonder. With Rowan Lea situated fairly high up, the panoramic view was grandiose and astounding. Storm-beaten statues, nude and proud, watched over ponds with hissing fountains, while riots of colour threw themselves around. Vast ranges of flowers and intricate topiary shapings dominated the north view, and to the left, an original 18th century orchard was yet fructiferous, with stage-planted saplings helping to hang on to tradition. To his far right - though too far for a proper view - families of swans claimed space in a man made lake. The online gallery pictures of Rowan Lea were persuading enough - being here was on another level. This was viewed from the north side only, there were other radial delights to discover. It was a shame she couldn't appreciate the full view until on her feet again. He sauntered back over to her, mentally noting to bring binoculars at his next visit. 

   'Are you okay, there?'

   'Yes, but I feel I'm insulting the surroundings by wearing this bright yellow track suit, less one of its legs.' 

   He took that as a good sign, at first; to be caring about her appearance. Beverly still hadn't brought in clothes for her, so it was just as well there were boxes of donated attire from ex-patients. The thought of her choosing what clothes of her own would be for the chop felt daunting enough for him, never mind her!

  'Why don't we order some stuff  online once we're back in your room? Shorts and baggy bottoms wouldn't go amiss, would they?

   'Yeah, that would be great, I've not much else apart from nightgowns and this ruddy....' She pulled at her chest '... canary abomination.' 

   'Well, we can't have that, can we?'

   'I'd appreciate, it. Thanks, Da—'

   Neil smiled and looked away, diverting the awkwardness as she cut the last word short. ' That's okay, I saw the physio and occupational therapist this morning, they mentioned they'd come in handy.'

   'Sure would. Mum's in no hurry to see me okay for clothes, she seems to think this place is a hospital. So why couldn't she make the review with you, this morning?'

   'Couldn't get cover at work,' he made up as an excuse, not sure if that was the case or not. Saskia had no idea that they preferred to avoid each other. 

   'What about later on?'  

   'I'm not sure, sweetheart.'  

   'Okay,' she replied, trying to appear impassive about it.

   Thence onwards, as they sipped away from their mugs, Neil struggled conversing with her. When she wasn't in a world of her own, she was apathetic; impervious to general chatter that usually carried her opinionated girly blabbing. She hardly locked eyes with him, and he sensed everything was going to be gloom and doom; he doubted she'd even attempt to put on a front. 

   It was tough she needed to be here for such a long time, and he knew she was terrified by all the changes she had to acquire to, but he had to try to keep up a positive view of where she was, despite her  wanting nothing more than to be walking out the door with him. 

    'I was shown around the exercise and recovery rooms...' he started with. 'Some amazing equipment there - treadmills and all sorts.'

  'Won't be using those for weeks yet, though,' she said, with a weak smile, twirling her cotton hanky round her fingers, 'I've to start with gentle bed exercises first.'

  'I know...' he replied, trying his best to use caution and sympathy sagaciously,  'once your cast's off, it must be a pain. How do you manage sleep with it?'

   'I'm usually staring at the wall or the ceiling. They cut off  TV and music by midnight so you're in with a shout, but I don't always get a full night's sleep despite it being so deathly quiet.' 

    'Couldn't they give you a mild sedative?'

   'They already do, but it doesn't always work. Besides, I'm on medication reduction now.'

   It seemed the reduced medication had opened up and invited reality in, he thought. 

   'But at least you're able to get around in you chair now. Laurence was telling me there's a tropical butterfly house at the top end of the grounds.' It was something open to the public to help fund the running of Rowan Lea. 'We could visit that sometime, bring your mum along,' he was willing to try.

   She didn't answer; this positive view wasn't quite hitting any mark he hoped it might.

   'There's always the flower nursery and the topiary gar—'

   'Neil!' she interrupted, loudly. He was way ahead of himself, desperately throwing his guilt-ridden future at her. 'It's okay. You don't have to pretend that things will be fine. I'm more gathered in my thoughts now, I've pretty-much had things spelled out for me. I know there's no guarantee I can clutch on to that'll bring back the normal me. This might be it, as good as it gets.'

   He sat, close to tears, seeing the dull fear in those once sparkling eyes, feeling the pain he'd inflicted upon her, gutted that he couldn't buy some magical remedy. His insides felt as tight as the hankie she was twisting; unsure what to do, uncertain what to say.

   'This place is beautiful, luxurious, but it's promise-free. That's how it is. I've got to learn to adjust, but I still feel so weak.' Right now, her head felt as if it was made of delicate grass, and her whole body, never mind one damned leg, felt like concrete. There would have to be enormous effort to deal with such fearsome prognosis - a long, sorry slog with no assured result and the guilt was tearing him apart. 

   'I'm so sorry, Saskia. You wouldn't be here if I hadn't arranged for us to meet that night.'  

   'No,' she said, as she slowly shook her head, 'I wouldn't be here if I hadn't fucked you over to begin with.'

   'But I was never angry enough to see you like this.' 

   Eyes cast downwards, she told him, 'I'm not going to lie, I'm terrified I'll never walk again...  I don't know if I can muster optimism for anything.'

   'You've got to try, kiddo.'

   'But I'm struggling, Neil. I still can't come to terms with what I've put you through. All this... ' she lightly tapped her plaster cast, '... doesn't compare to how I felt when I knew I'd lost you.' 

    This would have to be put to bed pronto. He wasn't fully sure of how his own thoughts and feelings lay right now, but a guilt trip on her would only zap her strength even more, and she needed every bit of energy for recovery, he couldn't allow this to dominate her thoughts - even if he had to lie.

   'Hey... hey, look at me.... people can find again, Saskia.'

   'I know, you should, you probably will.'

   'Fuck, sake...' he closed his eyes and tilted his head to the heavens, shook it for two seconds and and locked eyes with her again. 'Let me try and find you again now we can do that with a clean slate. Did you think I was gonna piss off the second you are back on your feet?' 

   Saskia squirmed awkwardly in her chair, trying to sit more forward but failing. 'No, please don't say that, I'm a different version now, might even be like this forever. You can't commit to a burden like this, and why would you want to after what you were put thr—' 

   'I was hurt, Saskia,' he said aloud, shutting her up, adamant she listened. Sod any lies, he was going to be brutally honest with her, it was as well coming out to be put to bed, and maybe then she'd concentrate on the physical fight ahead.

   'I never felt pain or shame like it before. I meant what I said that night of your accident, I really was  getting rid of you. I'd convinced myself hurt would ease with time, and anger would eradicate the good memories. I was resolutely assured that was it, as I made my way back home.

   That lasted an hour, one fucking hour. From telling you face on, that I never wanted to see you again, I was making my way back to see if you were okay. I couldn't cope with the fact that I'd struck you. But  seeing that ambulance there terrified me. I thought I'd lost you... for good, and in that moment of fear I didn't give a shit about anything else - past or present.'

   Listening intently to words that she felt  unworthy of, she'd closed her eyes, trying to envision the scene, but he grasped her hanky-scrunching hand on the table and wiggled it to regain her attention. 'Saskia... I was never going to win over what I was fighting, you're too... persistent...remediless and unending... '

   She bit down on her bottom lip, giving her head a mini shake. 'I've no bloody idea what you mean...'

   He smiled and made a simplified conclusion. 'Young lady... I believe I'm very much stuck with you, like a bogie that doesn't ping!' He fake-picked his nose, flicked his finger again and again in demonstration, making her snigger.

   'Haven't been likened to a bogie before, but it's kind of sweet.'   

Over forgiveness or begrudging, death or survival, he would have missed her pale face, wily heart, funny quips, imperfections and impulsions. The yearning would have grown even though she'd torn his mind, ruptured his heart and tortured his soul. 'We'll do one day at a time, kiddo, till you're sick at the sight of me....' She believed that promise by the tone of his voice.

   'I don't deserve you,' she said, wiping the wet from her cheek the sleeve cuff, despite the holding her tissue. 'I couldn't imagine getting to this point without you. I'm still so fucking scared, Neil.' she added in a whisper.

   'I know, I am too... ' he told her honestly, reaching across, removing and discarding the well-twisted man-sized from her to grasp her bare hand, '... so let's shit ourselves together then, aye?'

   She gave a meek smile, to accompany her meek nod.

  'Good.' he said, sealing the deal by tapping her hand and leaning back on his chair. 'So no more tears, let's just sit here and enjoy this view that I'm paying an arm and... ' he jokingly pointed at her cast, '... that leg for!'

    She picked up the gruesome energy bar he'd bought them both, and washed it down with very tepid coffee. Ten minutes later, she complained of backache and without calling Lawrence to help walk them back, he wheeled her himself. As much as it aggrieved him to be doing what he was doing, he was as well trying to build his confidence in steering this contraption while 'if-need-be help' was around. It would be her means of mobility for a good while. God forbid it to be permanent. 

 

By the time Neil had popped out to call Beverly with a progress report on her daughter, the nurses had changed her and hoisted her back into bed. Almost immediately afterwards, she was out for the count and had asked them to say goodbye for her. He was pleased she was beginning catching up on natural sleep while her body adjusted to the shock of what it had endured; he didn't like the thought of the chemical cocktails she had previously required going on much longer. The mind and soul needed natural balance and routine, and ample preparation for it's comeback.

  He picked a flower from the accumulating vases on her sill, placed one in her hand, and at fifteen hundred hours, kissed her goodnight.  'See you tomorrow, kiddo.' he whispered. 'We'll do our shopping then.'

*********************************************************************************

For the most part, she was adapting to her stay in Rowan Lea.  The planned treatment had included holistic therapies, which had the advantage of going ahead even if confined to a chair.  At one time Neil would have scoffed at such regimen, and her talking about such things as aroma and colour therapies never quite piqued his interest, but they were instrumental in keeping her emotional  - and spiritual - chin up, and for that he was grateful. And once her physical self got stronger, she would take part in more physical curatives.

   Seven weeks had passed since her surgery, and the time for Saskia to try to stand had come. Her cast had been removed a week prior and a high calcium food range had been executed by a dietitian throughout her stay to hopefully give her bones a boost.  That wasn't to say it would have major benefit, but she agreed to the said menu regardless. 

   Her overnight pattern of disturbances had improved vastly since pain was easing, and she was now sleeping through the majority of the night and felt rested on waking. Today she felt chipper, quietly confident she would stand, as she kept to her bed physio religiously. 

  Neil arrived to support her through this vital attempt, and it was hard to see what jacket he was wearing for yet another vast floral bouquet in his hands. 

   'My good God... we're running out of vases and window sills, Mr. Balfour... the place has an overpowering scent of pollen with flowers everywhere... '

   Orlagh - both a trained nurse and allocated companion of the Rowan Trust appointed for Saskia - was in the room playing a game of cards with her. The older Irish woman - with a wicked sense of humour and a no nonsense approach - had bonded with her patient from the start. Saskia had lost count of the amount of 'feckings' she'd heard since befriending her. Orlagh put her cards down on the bed face up, cutting short their game now that Neil had arrived, and told Saskia, in no uncertain terms, that she'd lost that one anyhow.

   'Right,' the rather titch and stout Irishwoman said aloud, standing to take the flowers from him, 'best get these in some water. It's not the fecking law to bring bunches in on every visit you know, you can come in without them!' she called as she exited the room. What Orlagh lacked in height, she made up for in oomph.

   'She's right, you know, Neil.'  

   'Just feel you've got to really, don't you? I promise I'll stop.' He leaned down to land a gentle kiss on her cheek, and parked himself on the bed. 'How are you, anyhow?'

   She shrugged. 'Bit nervous. Mr. Harness says if I can hold my weight unaided for ten seconds they might try me on taking a few steps, too.'

   Neil felt dubious about this. The orthopedic update he was given yesterday didn't mention taking any steps. 'Think you're up to that, so soon?'

   'It's all about attitude. See that painting that's been hanging there?' 

   'What, the abstract one?' 

   'What does it say to you?'

   Neil thought for a moment. 'Too many askew lines and the symmetry on the face is all to pot. Shit artist,' he concluded bluntly.

   'Well...wasn't an artist, per se, but the last person to occupy my room. I've to take that one home and create one for the person who'll be here after me. We never know who painted them, obviously, but it's meant to help psychologically with your recovery.'

   'Really?'  Neil frowned, it seemed a bit absurd to him. 

   'It's part of some mental health art-initiative the centre uses under occupational therapy.'

   He was just about as confused, as he was unimpressed. 'So, what does it say to you?'

   'That's just it, it's not really saying anything. Neither positive nor negative. I felt a bit of a void until I realised it's not about the artwork but the fact that it's there at all. That speaks more to me, getting over a critical stage enough to create. And if I manage a few steps today, it'll be one step closer to making the way, by myself, to the art room - whenever I want, really.' 

   'So... any thoughts on what you'd like to paint?'

   'Not a scooby! But I've time to think yet.  I can mostly draw tech design, something involving rulers and a lot of lines, maybe, so that should talk to you.  It's not for a couple of weeks yet, but it'll be nice standing at an easel.'

   It thrilled him to see her this optimistic. Last week had been a nightmare where she was fretful, abstracted and snippy. It didn't help with Beverly cutting down her visits even more, combining work and distance as the cause, and waiving that level of importance that Saskia was to her. The buck had been passed onto Neil. He was her only visitor despite him offering to bring any friend along, but life was too complex now to allow that. She had built up a few here at least.

 A big voice boomed its way through the doors - Dr. Harness with his crew of white overalls tagging behind.  'Good afternoon, good afternoon!' His thunderous approach amused Saskia. His was a face greatly welcomed, he was always a harbinger of good news.  'Are we ready to get this car back on the road, then?'

   'Yup... let's rev her up!' She chirped back, giving her abstract canvas a glance for good luck. Whomever that artist was, she hoped his or her interpretation was one for success.

   Neil backed away to let the staff move in. The bed had been stripped bare apart from its sheet.  As practiced, Saskia kept her leg perfectly straight with the aid of a gait belt and hooked the loop of elastic round her foot, swinging round till her body sat on the edge.

   'Right, young lady, ' Dr. Harness smiled, 'we'll get you to stand and hold onto this frame. Don't worry, we got you either side. Ready?'

   A nod.

 Everyone's heart was beating with hope at this progressive stage. Neil could see her neck and face muscles tense, but pain gripped and shot up from her groin and thigh, forcing her to sit again. 'It's too sore.'

   'Okay, Saskia, let's try getting you to hold onto the frame first.'

   Not too perturbed, she was willing to give it another go. This time, bad stability accompanied the pain and her leg visibly shook. This hip-and-bone kid was not complying. Professionals all exchanged glances; not a healthy sign. Another attempt failed. Seeing how much she wanted to stand, while her legs simply gave way to gravity, frightened Neil.

   'Ah,' the usually jovial Harness gave a sigh. 'My dear... it's not going to be today. I'm afraid you'll need your parking space a bit longer.'  No sense of humour could lighten the disappointment and uselessness she felt.

   'No!' Saskia said loudly. 'One more try.'

   'Not possible young lady. Might do more harm than good.'

   'But I've done all the exercises, all the preparations and stuff - why can't I stand?'

   'It affects others differently, we talkedabout this, remember? Your healing process is just a little farther down the line. It'll make up for itself, I'm sure, when it's ready?'

   'Ready? Ready? It's been two months!'  Frustration cut through her. The initial first weeks she had felt cocooned in her bed, weighed down by plaster cast and stupidity. Patience was becoming worn, and Neil sensed a wobble coming on, so tried to nip it in the bud. 

   'C'mon, Saskia, just a few more days, kiddo.'  Oh, dear. Wrong thing to say. 

   'A few more days? Have you any idea how bloody long even one single day in here is!!'  She shouted, strong enough to echo down corridors. The two therapists left the room after a whisper from Dr. Harness, closing the doors behind them.  

   'I know,' the poor man tried to sympathise, nodding with closed eyes,  'I know it must... '

   'No you, don't! No you bloody don't!'

   She blew - no warning - into roiled, loud unexpected frenzy. Reaching over, in one fell swoop she crashed the bottles and belongings on her bedside cabinet to the ground, splashing water and glass all over Dr. Harness's shoes.

   'Not one of you know how this really feels!' 

   Neil anticipated her next move, but was unable in time to stop her leaning over and plummet her laptop, magazines and the mini ceramic pots of her favourite violets, to the floor from her over-bed table. Now soil, metal and plastic also spattered the pristine floors. One agonizing howl emanated round the room. Instantly went to her, cradling her to keep her arms still, and she and yielded to the comfort he was offering, muffling her cries into his chest. 

   'It's okay, kiddo, it's okay. You'll get there, I promise you. You're tougher than you think.'

   The sentiment only made her worse, and and the sound of her loud, struggling-to-breathe sobs hurt those around her.

   Rocking her gently, he used every ounce of his body and soul to demonstrate he was there for her. His hunch that hopes for her were to some degree a little premature, proved right. Perhaps all the positive attitude and holistic teachings she'd focused on were far too much for her, despite working for others.  She'd tried, but deep inside she was lost. How long this setback would effect her was anyone's guess. In this room rich with flowers, she was by far the wilted one.

Nothing of value could be said. There was no reassurance, no reaction, words now replaced by a deep hush. Dr. Harness mouthed to him that she should be sedated and Neil threw a significant nod back to him. It was hard to agree with, but understood. Apart from helping her pass through this day of utter despair, they had the other residents to think about. Rowan Lea had experienced such blow outs before, but they were rare.

   The nitty-gritty fact had been reached that if her condition didn't strengthen erelong, it may not at all, and Saskia wasn't the only one who now feared her being immobilised forever; next week would be crucial to her future mobility and her mental health. Having just watched her go from hopeful to hindered was gutting enough, but this misery raining down hard as he held her, was almost impossible to bear.

  The injection took rapid effect, and he lay her limp-limbed frame back down on the pillow. A life without liveliness would be no life at all. Would this annoying, pain-in-the-arse, can't-sit-still rocket ever return to earth? Dr. Harness said she would be out cold for hours, and nothing else before leaving the room.

 He sat by her side with fearsome thoughts for almost an hour until Orlagh returned and convinced him that the best place for him now was home.

          end of  FALLEN  ANGEL