Disabled.

Ten

Ten

Nadia opened her eyes to find that to her disappointment, she was still in the hospital. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, hoping that by doing that, she would somehow go back home. But when she opened her eyes and saw that she was still there, she finally decided to accept it, just in time as the door opened. She refrained from turning to look at the person who had entered, as she looked out of the window, hearing the sound of heels hitting against the floor.

"Good morning Nadia. It's me, Elisa."

As soon as Nadia heard that voice, she remembered how she had first met Dr. Reitman. Slowly, she turned herself around to face the psychiatrist to find her smiling at her.

"How are you feeling today?" she was asked. When Nadia heard the question, she contemplated on whether or not to tell the psychologist how she was truly feeling or if she should just say that she was okay when she knew that she really wasn't.

"It's okay Nadia, you can tell me," Dr. Reitman said to her when she didn't say anything.

"I don't know how I'm feeling," she said truthfully. Dr. Reitman nodded as she walked closer to her and took a seat beside her bed, facing her. 

"It might be too much to ask right away and I understand if you don't feel like talking about it now," the psychologist told her, "but I want to ask, why did you do it? Why did you try to end your life?"

And as soon as Nadia heard that, she couldn't help but to remember exactly what she had been thinking when she had decided to take those pills, in an attempt to end her life. As those thoughts filled her head, she started to cry.

She heard heels hitting against the floor once again as Dr. Reitman stood up and handed her a box of tissues. She reluctantly took a tissue and blew her nose before looking at the doctor.

"I just wanted to end it. I didn't see the point of living when I'm just a handicap," she told her honestly. There was a moment of silence as Nadia used the sleeve of her hospital shirt to wipe away her tears.

"Do you know what a handicap is?" she heard Dr. Reitman ask, causing her to remember Mason's words:

"Before you decide to accept a label that people have given you, why don't you look it up?"  

"If you knew the meaning of handicap, that could help you with how you're feeling," the psychologist suggested. She didn't need to be told twice as she reached for her phone and searched for the definition on Google.

hand·i·cap

/ˈhandēˌkap/

noun 

1. a circumstance that makes progress or success difficult.  

2. a condition that markedly restricts a person's ability to function physically, mentally, or socially. 

"Unless you're an impairment to someone, you can't possibly be a handicap," Dr. Reitman explained. Nadia looked up at her slightly confused and asked,

"Then what does that make me?" 

Dr. Retiman smiled.

"That means you're disabled and not a handicap."

---

It had been several hours since Dr. Retiman's visit and Nadia continued to lay in her hospital bed, replaying what she had said over and over.