J O N A S
Dr. Akeson, Jonas's orthopedic surgeon (AKA the one who neatened up what remained of Jonas's leg after the metal from the car door had finished with it), was a short man with a balding head and a white beard. He was like Santa Claus, if Santa wore a lab coat and smelled like antiseptic.
"I've been...I've been trying to walk some," Jonas started, somewhat uneasily. He'd tried to imagine how the words would feel, how they would taste, when he finally said them. He couldn't quite decide yet if they felt good or bad to say. He looked down at his lap, his fingers absentmindedly tapping his leg just above the prosthetic socket, a nervous tic that came out just about every time he was at a follow up appointment. He felt self-conscious in the hospital gown they always had him wear. He knew it was so they could examine his leg more easily, but he felt cold and a little exposed. He quit tapping and crossed his arms tight across his chest.
"Really?" said Dr. Akeson, peering at Jonas over his glasses from his chair next to the computer. He made a note of something in Jonas's chart. "That's good news. How is that working out? Are you having any problems with the socket fitting?"
"I...I'm not really sure," he muttered. "It's all...a little much. I didn't really work much with the therapist and the prosthetist back...when it first happened. To be honest, I'm not really sure how it's supposed to feel, or how to really start out."
"What have you done so far?"
"I've walked short distances. A few times. I don't think the leg feels loose..." He sighed. "The main thing that's bothering me is that...I've had an increase in pain since I started to try walking."
"Does the pain mostly happen when you're using the prosthesis, or do you have it other times as well?"
Jonas thought about it a bit. "Mostly when I'm wearing it. Occasionally when I'm not, but I always had occasional phantom sensations before, so I guess that's not really new...My leg's been a bit sore; I think it's just because it's not used to bearing weight."
"That would most likely be correct," Dr. Akeson said. "It's usually best to start slow with these things. Work up to it. As for the pain you feel when you wear the prosthesis...can you describe it for me?"
"It's sort of a shooting pain. Sometimes it feels kind of like...like a burning sensation, almost. But only when I'm putting weight on it, or sometimes just when I'm wearing the it. I don't know if maybe I'm...walking wrong, or something. Like a misstep."
He tapped his fingers on his leg again. In the ceiling, the air conditioning kicked on, ruffling Jonas's hair. Dr. Akeson was making another note.
"There's a few possible explanations, but one stands out to me at this time, based on what you've said." He scooted his stool forward a bit, and gestured to Jonas's leg. Jonas was used to this, even if it was his least favorite part of being in the doctor's office. He stared straight ahead, refusing to look at his leg as Dr. Akeson shifted the gown and examined the fake leg, and the socket, and then took it off, examining Jonas's residual leg. He massaged a few places, stopping when Jonas winced in pain. "There it is..." The doctor murmured, as if to himself.
"What?" Asked Jonas, massaging his leg again.
"I'm thinking it's most likely a neuroma," said his doctor, moving back to make another note in the computer. "Amputees are known to get them, especially in traumatic amputations, as yours was. Think of it like...a tangle of hair, except in this case, it's a tangle of nerve endings. It can be sensitive, especially to pressure."
"Can it be..fixed?"
"Usually it's as simple as adjusting your prosthesis. In this case, you'll just need another visit with your prosthetist. It would explain why the pain has only started now that you've really worked on walking. It usually takes a few months after an amputation to show up, and if it hadn't been exposed to pressure, it wouldn't be a cause for concern. But since you've started walking again, your prosthesis is starting to put some pressure on it."
He nodded towards Jonas's leg. "Does that help?" he stated, watching Jonas massage a particular spot.
"Yes," said Jonas. "It usually does."
"That's good," he nodded. "Massage is one of the ways to relieve pain from a neuroma."
The doctor stood, preparing to leave. "Just make sure to make an appointment with your prosthetist to get your socket refitted. Not only for the neuroma but, as time goes on, the residual limb atrophies a bit and the prosthesis can be too loose." He paused, meeting Jonas's eyes. "Additionally...If you're going to start walking more frequently...it may be a good idea to start seeing a physical therapist again."
Jonas started to protest, but Dr. Akeson held up a hand. "Now I know you didn't like the therapy when you did it after the initial amputation, but it's something I would recommend now. It can be very helpful for amputees to work with someone."
Jonas frowned. Dr. Akeson smiled. "I'm honestly glad to see that you're starting to work towards walking, Jonas," he said. "It's always a good step." He chuckled a little at his own accidental pun, before picking up his papers and opening the door. He stopped one final time. "Follow up in another month," he said. "I'd like to see you one more time before you head off to school."
"Ok," Jonas said. Dr. Akeson left the room, and Jonas got dressed once more, grabbing his crutches and making his way out to his mom, who immediately put down the magazine she was reading and came to his side.
"How'd it go?" she asked, smiling widely.
Jonas forced a smile. "Fine," he said. "He says I should make an appointment with the prosthetist to get the socket fitting adjusted on my leg."
"All right," she said. "We'll do that."
They turned to leave. Once they were on the elevator, his mom turned to look at him. "Are you ok, Jonas?"
"Fine, Mom," he said. Always fine. He was always fine. And then: "Dr. Akeson also thinks I should start physical therapy up again, before I go off to school."
"Really?" she said. "Are you...going to try to start walking again?" Jonas could tell she was trying not to sound too hopeful.
"Yeah," he said, nonchalantly, as if this was nothing of consequence. He watched the floor number change as they went down. "I think I might." His mom suddenly stepped forward and wrapped her arms tightly around him, almost knocking him over. He hadn't realized how much taller he had gotten compared to her, until she was there, standing a head shorter than him. Everything was so different now.
"Mom?" he asked her, hesitantly. "Are you all right?"
"Yes," she said, stepping back and shaking her head, still smiling. "I'm just...so proud of you."
He almost felt like rolling his eyes, somewhat embarrassed, but this was his mother. So he smiled instead, hesitantly. The most real smile he'd smiled in quite some time.
They went to the grocery store, and he helped her get things off the high shelves, instead of just following behind her like last time. When they went to the deli, he nonchalantly glanced around, looking for Brennan—for messy dark hair and big round glasses—but she wasn't there.
B R E N N A N
Brennan wanted to talk to Jonas again, but at the same time, she didn't want to be the one to message him first, considering that they hadn't talked in a few days.
She had typed up a message, a few times, but had always ended up abandoning it, backspacing until all evidence of any attempts was gone.
She was sitting now, on her bed, legs crossed, trying to come up with an email to her aunt, who was a physical therapist.
"You should shadow your aunt," her mom had said, when Brennan had first expressed interest in physical therapy.
Really, Brennan didn't see how choosing your major before going off and actually experiencing things made any sense. And sure, you could go undeclared, but that just felt like too much pressure for Brennan. She wanted to know. All her friends knew...Emma was going for speech pathology. Her other friend from school, Katherine, was going to be a pharmacist. Left and right, everyone at her high school was declaring majors. Brennan had felt like the weird one whenever people asked her 'What are you going to major in?' She'd always tried to avoid the subject. She would have gone for English, if she thought she could make a career in fiction writing. There was the problem, however, where Brennan couldn't bring herself to post anything for people to actually read, other than the carefully culled bits of scenes that she sometimes sent to Emma when she was feeling especially brave.
So when her aunt (her mom's youngest sister) graduated with her doctorate in physical therapy, and Brennan had listened to her describe her job, she'd been mildly interested in the career, and had therefore grabbed hold of it like a lifeline and held tight.
It was also convenient, because SIUe had a bachelor's program to prepare for physical therapy school, and Brennan had a scholarship for SIUe.
Her mom wanted her to be sure, however, so she was insisting that Brennan shadow her aunt.
Brennan was half excited and half nervous. Part of her didn't want to do it, because it meant she was just that much closer to being an adult and being off to college. Part of her did, because she was, deep down, happy for a chance to see what it was like to do specialized work as a medical professional.
Although, of course, she wouldn't actually be doing anything; she'd just be watching her aunt. But still, she was excited to see.
Dear Aunt Kim...
That sounded weird. Too formal. Aunt Kim was family.
Hi Aunt Kim!
Better...at least more friendly, like maybe she actually wasn't nervous at all about shadowing.
I'm interested in pursuing physical therapy when I go off to college. I was wondering if I might be able to shadow you a few different times before I go down to school for the fall. I'd love the chance to see what a physical therapist does, and how they interact with their patients.
That seemed all right.
If you have any time available, please let me know. I'm off Mondays and Wednesdays, so those would be good, but if you need to do other days or times, you can let me know and I can try to work something out with my boss. Brennan bit a spot on the inside of her cheek absentmindedly, her fingers still poised over the keys of her laptop.
Thanks, she finished.
Brennan
Later, when she checked her email, she had a reply.
Hi Brennan!
Haven't gotten to see you in a while! Of course you can shadow me! I'll be in the office seeing patients tomorrow, and you're welcome to drop by and stay for as long as you like. If that's too soon for you, I'll be there three other days this week, and all week next week.
I look forward to getting to hang out with you!
-Aunt Kim
Brennan smiled.
Aunt Kim,
Tomorrow would be great! I'll be there! Does 9:00 sound all right for me to get there?
A few moments later.
Nine sounds perfect! See you then.