Page 71 of Skipping Stones
Unfortunately, moving to rehab was not quite as quick and easy as Linney expected. It took all day for the papers to be ready for her release from the hospital and for arrangements to be made with the facility and the transfer service. She had hoped to be graduating to crutches or a cane so was disappointed to learn that the walker was coming with her, and worse, that the transfer required a wheelchair.
It was late in the evening before the service attendant picked her up from the hospital and wheeled her into the beautiful facility. Linney carried her few possessions—the duffle bag of pull-on pants, a couple of books, and her computer—on top of the quilt on her lap. The attendant left her in the hands of a young nurse, who took her place behind her chair and wheeled her into the reception area.
“I am Ilse,” she introduced herself. “After you have filled in some forms, I will take you to your suite and we will get you settled in.”
“More forms?” Linney couldn’t imagine there could be any more.
“Ja, I am afraid so.” Ilse laughed brightly. “Our German bureaucracy demands much paperwork.”
Fortunately, it was only one last signature, and Ilse whisked Linney off to a suite with a bedroom, a sitting room, and a tiny kitchenette with a fridge, a kettle, and a microwave. “I think you will like your new home. We’ll have you more independent in no time.” Linney saw all the new bouquets. “You seem to have a few admirers,” Ilse continued as she spun around to face Linney with friendly, laughing eyes. “Linney knew right then that she was going to like Ilse.
27
Linney hated Ilse. The sweet nurse who chatted with her when she arrived turned into a vicious taskmaster in rehab. As hard as Linney worked, Ilse pushed harder. Walking more often each day. Taking longer walks out into the flat concrete path in the gardens.
Within a few days, Ilse insisted Linney start tackling stairs, which made her hip ache all over again. But Ilse knew what she was doing. She taught her patient how to move in ways that she wouldn’t twist her healing hip and ribs and every day, and Linney could do more. Ilse gave her a grabber so she could pick things up from the ground without having to bend over. The tiny kitchen in her suite meant she could supplement her meals, and Ilse took Linney to a local grocery store to get some basics. It was a humbling beginning.
When MJ returned two weeks later, she brought Linney a small suitcase of comfortable—but stylish—clothes and shoes with her, which cheered her up instantly. She could dispense with the fleece pants and T-shirts! Linney’s bruises were gone now, and her ribs were finally beginning to hurt less.
“Not much,” she answered honestly when MJ asked if her memory of the explosion was getting better. “It was a complete blank at first, but parts of it are coming back to me. One minute I was working away, then there was this huge noise and a force that slammed me against the wall. The ceiling collapsed, and that’s all.” Linney shrugged her shoulders. “Next thing I knew, I was in a bed, in incredible pain and as blind as a bat, trying to figure out what had happened.” She pushed her glasses up her nose.
“How is the pain now?” MJ asked.
“There’s still a fair amount. But it’s getting better every day. And you should see how fast I can get around with my walker now.” She saw MJ react to that. “It’s okay, I need to be able to joke about it. And actually, you’re just in time to see it for yourself.” She eased herself up from the chair slowly, put her hands on the walker and started toward the door. She banged the walker into the doorframe, a common occurrence. Ilse and a counsellor were helping her understand that was less due to the cumbersome walker, and more to do with her compromised depth perception, and they were teaching her how to deal with it. The bump jostled Linney’s ribs, and she sucked air in through her teeth. MJ ran to help her. Linney sighed. “I’m fine,” she said. “I bang into lots of things now, because of my eye.”
“You used to bang into lots of things before, too,” said MJ with a grin, and suddenly they burst into laughter, breaking the tension.
“Oh,” Linney gasped. “Don’t make me laugh. Ribs!” But she grinned, holding her midsection tightly.
They slowly walked the paved path around the quadrangle twice and then Linney took them back to her room where she proved she was competent enough to prepare coffee and snacks. She was happy for the company, but she was equally happy when MJ went home a few days later.
Linney had a lot of time to think in rehab and the counsellor helped her talk about Ernst. They dove into what it was about her that led her to look to older men. Ernst had been almost old enough to be her father. They hadn’t had a relationship per se, and neither of them expected anything more from each other than the comfort they found in each other’s arms when world events saw them end up in the same city. But it was a pattern, Linney realized. She’d always fantasized about her male high school teachers and then her university professors. Mac was the most significant relationship she’d ever had, and he too was almost twenty years older than her. Maybe it was time she started looking for men closer to her own age. Once she could get around properly, that was.
“So are you dating anyone?” Linney demanded, talking to Derek one evening—lunchtime for him.
Derek almost spat out his water. “Where did that come from?”
“I’m tired of talking about me. And my counsellor got me thinking about my own terrible track record. But what about you?” Linney let that hang in the air remembering the last time she’d asked, and then added softly, “I know I’ve been pushy. And I am sorry about that. But it’s been four years. You can’t be alone forever.”
She could almost hear Derek rolling his eyes on the other end of the phone and she braced for an emotional response, but then he continued quietly. “First, you shouldn’t be sorry. I know it comes from a good place. But it’s hard. I have a full-time job, two young kids, and a mother in long-term care. And the dating pool in Silver Lake is not exactly huge.”
“Those sound like excuses.”
“Maybe they are, but please don’t push me too hard on this. I’ve been on a few dates, but nobody’s been special. And honestly? I don’t want to be hurt again.”
Linney nodded. She understood that. It was hard to let someone new in when you’d had a relationship that had left scars.
As her hip and ribs continued to improve, Linney had more time to think not just about the past, but also about what was next for her. She graduated to a cane, but it became abundantly clear she wouldn’t be able to handle the four flights of stairs to her London flat for a long time. And despite what the doctors told her, she worried that she would always have pain, and maybe a limp. She thought about taking a leave of absence from work and going home to Silver Lake to recover fully. And the more she thought about that, the more appealing going home felt and the less she wanted to go back to the network at all. She didn’t know what was next, but it no longer felt like London was where she should be. She mentioned it on a call with Jake.
“I always thought you’d come home,” he replied. “You’ll stay with Rachael and me until you know what your next move is.”
Linney shook her head, tiredly. “No, I need to go up to Silver Lake.”
Jake had heard something in her voice and knew there was no point in arguing. “Just promise us you won’t do something silly like try to go up the stairs to the office any time soon.” At least he’d have his sister closer than if she was in London. He could go up and check on her from time to time if necessary.
With that decision made, Linney worked harder than ever with Ilse to increase her mobility and with a visual therapist to help her develop strategies to deal with her monocular vision. When she told her medical team she was going back to Canada, not the UK, they decided to keep her a couple of extra weeks because of the long flight. Linney talked every couple of days with Jake and with her Silver Lake friends. Everyone was full of questions about how she was progressing, and they were delighted to learn she was coming home.
“We’ll be neighbours again,” Derek said, making her smile. Linney called him during his lunch every day. It was just after dinner time for her, and she insisted they talk about normal things. She needed someone who wasn’t always asking her how she was.