Page 21 of Falling With You

Not that it was actuallymyclinic, I was just one of the six physical therapists. I didn’t own the place, but it was in my dreams to one day own and run my own clinic, much like this one.

I loved this place, though. They worked wonders for people and really cared about an athlete’s body rather than what that body could do for the sports.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved sports. I watched them, went to games, I had even played some in college and high school. Hell, I still played softball and even touch football with friends every once in a while. But I hated what professional sports did to an athlete’s body.

So, it was my job to try and get those battered, bruised, and broken bodies into some form of shape. Not physical shape, but in a way where someone could actually have a fulfilling life without constant pain, fatigue, or even death at times.

Rocko was one of my many football players who had just run his body to the ground. He had been an offensive lineman, so he was big, a little bulky, and not very quick on his feet, but he had loved the game and had always protected his quarterback. And, because of that, he hadn’t actually protected his body or his own back. So now, it was my job to make sure that he could sit in an airplane and not want to cry from the pain. That he could take a casual walk with his wife and not want to throw up. Rocko’s knees and back were shot. It had taken over three years of working with me to get to the point where he could sit in his car and drive to see me.

Penalties came from throwing your life and body into professional sports. Sure, they paid you well, but you ruined your body by the age of twenty-five or thirty. I didn’t think it was worth it, but then again, I liked being able to move.

Just the few days I had been sore and bruised from the attack had been enough.

I pushed those thoughts out of my mind and got my room ready for my next patient.

Jefferson was also a former football player, a quarterback. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and had a wicked smile. He also had a traumatic brain injury thanks to his sport, and sometimes had problems remembering to come in or recalling the conversations we had.

It was my job to work on his knees and his shoulders, but he refused to get help for everything else.

It didn’t matter that he wore a helmet, helmet-to-helmet contact was still too much.

So, his brain was messing with him. And while it was my job to help his body, other people helped his mind. At least, that was the goal—if he’d let them.

“It’s good to see you, Miss Knight.” I gave him a small smile and nodded. “It’s good to see you too, Jefferson. Did you do what we talked about last time?”

“I made a note and everything. See?” He pulled out a note from his back pocket, and I smiled. His mother usually came with him to these appointments, and for that, I was grateful. Sometimes, Jefferson was normal, or at least as normal as someone in his position could be. Other times, he got angry. Even more times, he just reverted back to a sweeter, younger version of himself.

I knew he got headaches and had other issues that came from having so many concussions while he was playing professional football.

But there was only so much I could do. Today, we were going to work on his shoulders.

And I could just hope that he was happy, at least as much as he could be.

I pushed all those thoughts out of my mind and went to work. I worked in the same gym area with the other therapists, but during this hour, I was alone with Jefferson. I didn’t mind because I knew others would be around, and his mother was in the hallway. But sometimes I had to push back the thoughts that I was alone, much smaller than any of the men that I worked with, and a woman. I never used to think so much about that, even though it was always a constant note in my head. More like I could get through it. But then the alley happened. And I thought about it a bit more now.

I shook my head and then went back to what we had been working on.

Jefferson was in pain a lot of the time, so our goal was to decrease that and restore mobility. Eventually, we’d increase strength and flexibility. But mostly, we just wanted to make sure that he could function. We didn’t need to optimize his performance like some sports medicine people did because he was no longer a professional athlete. But some of my job was to prevent injuries and educate my clients on what they could do to not re-injure themselves. Because no matter what you did, you couldn’t take the athlete out of some of these people. A lot of them still did charity events or just played with friends. And it could all lead to more injuries if they weren’t careful.

What was funny to me, was that a lot of these guys with shoulder injuries just went off to golf in charity tournaments, thinking it wouldn’t be that bad, only to hurt their shoulder again and need a whole new plan.

Today, we were working on Jefferson’s shoulders, but I knew that next time we’d work on balance. And that meant I got to do my favorite thing, dancing.

All of my guys rolled their eyes at me when I brought it up, but they were light on their toes when flexibility and balance were key.

“Your bruises are going away,” Jefferson said, glaring down at me.

I knew he wasn’t actually glaringatme, more at what had happened to me, but I still didn’t like seeing the glare.

“I’m fine. You know me, it takes forever for this pale skin of mine to stop showing bruises.” I pulled down the sleeve of my shirt. The only place there was still a bruise was on my wrist. And even then, it was so faded that you couldn’t really tell it was there. I just happened to heal slowly, despite my profession.

“Now, let’s work on your shoulders. Grip the handles and then pull back. We’re on bands today, so you’re going to have a little more give than you would on a machine.”

He nodded at me, pulling his gaze from my wrist as he went to work.

We did a few reps and then worked on a couple of other things before I went to work on his shoulder, making sure we were all cooled down and ready to go.

I was tired but still had two more patients before the end of the day.