Stand Up

Chapter 6: Giving Up

I sat uncomfortably in my wheelchair at the doctor's office. I sighed. My lip quivered and every time the nurse would come out and say a name, I hoped it wasn't mine.

I looked around the room. The walls were painted a nice thick baby blue and there was a fish tank in the corner. In the tank were four of five exotic fish. There was a little girl, maybe about five years old, staring intently at the fish tank. Each fish swam around the tank as she watched closely. I remember when I used to do that.

There was another person sitting next to me. She was a little younger than me. Probably by a year or two. She turned her head and coughed almost every three seconds. A rough, dry cough that must've hurt her chest because I could see her reaction. She looked at me in my wheelchair. She looked sorrowful and sad. I felt sad too. I couldn't walk.

"Isabel," The nurse called out. I began to sweat a little, but with a some courage, I wheeled myself to the door with my mother not far behind me. We entered a small little doctors office where the nurse asked me some questions.

The little office was quite roomy. The same baby blue color followed us into the room. Pictures of human skeletons adorned the wall. Pamphlets and brochures were on a shelf for the parents to take.

"Are you comfortable in you wheelchair?" I nodded my head as she typed all of this into a computer. "Any problems at all?" I shook my head. "The doctor will be with you soon," The nurse said making her way to the door.

My stomach had butterflies in it. I was nauseous. I had never liked the doctor's office. Now I was more afraid than ever. I was afraid of the news I'd get. Last time I'd been here, the doctor took some tests. Now he had the results.

A man in his thirties stepped into the room. He had a professional look to him. Combed black hair, suit and tie. According to his name tag, his name was Dr. Green.

"Hello, Isabel. How are you today?" Dr. Green asked with a broad smile on his face. I only nodded, not feeling like talking.

"Look, I know you're nervous," He said sitting down in a chair next to me.  I didn't know my emotions were that easy to read, but I guess they were. "But there's nothing to be afraid of. I don't bite."

Yeah, but you do poke me with sharp needles and prick my finger for blood. I didn't dare say that out loud. It would only lead to a long lecture from my mom and a disapproving look from my father. I didn't need any of those right now.

"Now to your results," Dr. Green said standing up. "It is still very unclear whether or not you will get your legs back. You could wake up one morning and feel perfectly fine. Or you could live the rest of you life in that wheelchair. I'm sorry to say, but the odds are against you. I have never encountered a case like yours. I have no possible clue what might happen next." He had a look of sympathy in his eyes.

"So, I'll never get my legs back?" My voice was cracking. I was holding back the tears. Never get my legs back? That was my worst fear. That was the reason I was so afraid to come here. I was afraid to face the horrible truth.

"No. I never said that. Maybe tomorrow you could wake up with your legs working. Maybe in a few years." He was trying to calm me down. He could see this was a difficult thing for me. I know what he's doing. He's trying to make me feel better, but it wasn't working.

I only nodded my head and didn't say anything else. I was done talking. Soon after, we left. Mother didn't bother talking to me in the car. She knew I didn't want to hear about it. Even I couldn't bare the truth. I was probably never going to get my legs back. Ever.

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I rolled into my dance academy. It was a small little lobby with a few rooms for dancing. Trophies were displayed in cases surrounding the room. Too many trophies to count. There was also a couch in the room. A girl was laying on it, probably doing homework. There were also a few chairs  for parents to sit, if they wanted to wait for their child. I rolled up to the counter where Mrs. Jenkins stood. She was filling out a form for another dancer to join. Probably to take my place. She looked up from her paper.