Love Rehabilitated

Chapter II

Despair

noun

1. the complete loss or absence of hope.

verb

1.lose or be without hope.

Despair is a funny thing.

Most people will tell you that they're sad, hurt or upset. It's rare that you'll here someone say "I am in despair." or "I am in a state of complete and hopeless despair."

Well, I was in a state of hopeless despair, and there was nothing that could have lifted me out of it. I thought my life was over right when I had determined that it was truly beginning, and just like that, everything I knew and was comfortable with had changed...

I know I'm awake before I can open my eyes and before I can open my mouth. Every second seems to be the most painful second of my life as one thought races through my head the entire time I'm waiting or the rest of my body to wake up. Jamie.

The second I can manage to open my mouth the word flies out, though I'm sure no one can understand it. My vision is still blurry, but from what I can see, there are three bodies in the room. Two are distinctively male, and one I can tell is female.

The walls in the hospital aren't white, they're a light blue, and it doesn't smell clean, it smells like me I guess. Dirty, sweaty, and with a hint of iron which I'm assuming is blood.

I can feel the slight prick of a needle in my arm, and I don't look down because I can'st stand the sight of blood or needles and I already feel like I'm going to throw up.My left shoulder burns, and I can only imagine the cut I have there and the scar that it's going to leave.

Most of all though, I hear the most annoying beeping, which I assume I can sacrifice being annoyed for the pleasure of being able to hear the spaces in between the beeps which sound like droning alarms going off in my head.

My lips are chapped but saturated in something that must be Vaseline at the same time, and my throat feels strangely itchy. When I finally clear my vision, I see Drew, Dad, and Malia who has stitches on her forehead and a cast on her arm. Despite my relief at seeing she's okay, still the only thing I can think is of Jamie who was on the side of the car that got hit.

I feel panic rising up in my stomach, but hope at the same time. Mom isn't in here, which means she must be with Jamie, which means she must be alive.

My body starts to tremble and I almost feel like I'm going to throw up. They all move towards me once realizing I am awake, and my impatience and anxiousness intensify a tenfold. 

Please.

Drew reaches my bedside and puts a cup of water up to my lips. I sip greedily, and when I do open my mouth, I haven't even quite swallowed all of the water. "Where's Jamie?"

I notice Malia's red rimmed eyes as she opens her mouth to speak. Her voice trembles slightly as she tells me, "She's in a coma, Harv."

I swallow the rest of the water and the spit in my mouth. I don't know how to feel. Relieved or guilty?

I called the Uber. I invited them to come with me. My fault.

I barely manage to get the words out, "How long?"

"We don't know." Drew replies and his voice wavers. "Doctor said couple weeks, maybe years, but most likely months. There was uh, lots of brain trauma damage stuff, and they said that she might, you know, never wake up."

"Can I see her?" I asked, trying to sit up. The world went dark for a minute, and I felt strangely unsteady trying to stand up. It was like I was trying to balance on a wooden plank a centimeter thick.

It was the look of sheer panic on my dad's face that alerted me to the fact that there might be something wrong with me, and that I was not as invincible as I may have previously thought.

Drew lunged out to wrap his arm around my shoulders, "Woah, you gotta be careful, Harv."

"I'm fine." I dismissed as I looked to my right and saw the alarm clock at 11:27, "Oh crap, I missed practice, and I'm gonna miss afternoon practice if I don't get out of here soon."

"Harvey," my dad said.

"Dad you don't understand. I'm trying to qualify for Olympic Trials, missing one practice could set me back a whole week." I whined. "I literally need to get out right now."

"Harvey you can't swim." My dad said gruffly.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I'm the fastest collegiate women's swimmer in the 200 Fly and the 400 IM, our relay team is ranked twelfth globally." I replied.

My dad looked to Malia, "I think you should tell her."

"Tell me what?" I responded. Drew still had is arm around me, and it seemed his grip had gotten tighter.

"Look Harv, I know you're on a ton of painkillers right now, and I guess you haven't noticed because your tunnel vision is focused on Jamie, but you didn't get out of the accident... whole."

"What does that even mean?" I asked slightly airily. I was awaiting bad news I didn't want to hear.

"Harvey, look down." Malia said, looking everywhere but my eyes.

I look down and that's when i see it, the source of my unbalance and discomfort, the reason I'm on such heavy painkillers. From the mid thigh of my left leg down, my leg is missing.

The first thing that runs through my head is fear. Fear because I only have one leg now.

The next thing that runs through my head is stupidity. If I wouldn't have called that stupid Uber, we wouldn't have been in this situation.

The last thing that runs and stays in my head is despair. I am no longer comfortable. There is no comfort in this new life that I'm going to have to live. I can't swim anymore. I've let my team down, I've let my country down, and I've let myself down.

For the rest of my life, I'll have to deal with the odd stares, people thinking I'm weak and trying to help me, or people thinking I'm some sort of freak or disgrace and being disgusted by me. For the rest of my life, I'll have to live without my left leg, and that terrifies me.