𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐚 & 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐲 🩰 | [COMPLETED]

xi. day one: juliana

♚♚♚

"Okay, sweetheart. Let's do one more practice," Dr. Marlen says.

"Dr. Marlen," I start. "I don't really want to anymore."

"I know. Just hold out a bit longer. Do the side plank I just taught you."

I prop myself on my side, put my knees together, and fold my legs.

"Okay, now, sit up," he guides.

I lift my elbow, my forearm now stands straight, all of my weight is on my palm.

"This is meant to be a core strength activity," he states.

My palm starts twitching and my whole body wobbles. My hand feels cold and my fingers are numb.

"I'm a ballerina," I start as I try to concentrate on balancing my body. "I know all about core strength."

"And yet you seem to be struggling not even five seconds in."

"Well, you know why, don't you?" I reply.

"I do."

"Well, it won't be like this for long, probably," I comment. "Once I get the surgery, I can go right back to dance, right?"

I take one glance at him. His blue irises shake, his lips slightly part. I recognize that look. The same look Madame Calvet gave me. The pity look. But...why?

My body wobbles even more. I start to go off balance, Dr. Marlen puts his warm hand on
the small of my back as a support.

"How long do I have to do this?" I ask.

Dr. Marlen takes his hand off my back and says: "Five more seconds. One Mississippi..."

"Two Mississippi, three Mississippi," We count together. "Four Mississippi, five Mississippi--"

Then, my sore arm instantly gives out and I fall back on the blue gymnastics mat. I look up at the animals painted on the ceiling and groan.

"You did good," he says. "Okay. So, you were struggling a bit on the upper body strength and core, I had to help you a bit. But, other than that you did your best on the exercises for the physical part."

"What are we doing tomorrow?" I ask.

"Spinal Decompression."

"Sounds scary." I say.

"Oh, don't worry. It's completely safe."

I turn away from him and back to the ceiling, thinking. Spinal Decompression...

"Ya know, I thought this camp stuff would be hard. But it's actually really nice. It's kind of anticlimactic," I comment.

"Well, if it makes you feel better, you're going to have to come back here at three pm," he replies.

"Wait, really? Why?"

"For the second-half of the physical therapy. That one is going to be longer."

"Well, how long is it?"

"An hour and a half."

"Oh...Can I go now?" I ask.

"Of course. Oh, here—" he says while ripping out a piece of paper from his metal binder. "Take this to your mom. It's a medical progress report."

"Thank you," I reply while taking the paper.

I stand up and walk out of the small room, closing the door behind me.

Outside, I'm greeted to moist, humid air. A pathway with a stone arch that leads to a garden full of red roses stands in front of me. The sun beams down on my skin, warming it up like a blanket. It's like a dream here. You'd forget that you were staying in a hospital. The birds sit cozily on trees in the other side. The heels of my shoes clomp on the cobblestone pathway as I walk.