Melissa: A Hathaway House Heartwarming Romance, Dale Mayer [best motivational books to read TXT] 📗

gym. Shane was there, marking something down on a tablet. He had the computer set up, charts off to the side, but the equipment around the room was intimidating. She’d seen it all before and knew the agony of using most of it.

He didn’t look up but said, “I don’t bite. Come on in. Shut the door behind you too, please.”

That seemed even more ominous. She closed the door and slowly wheeled toward him. “Did you create a plan for me?” she asked with a light voice.

“Yep,” he said. “At least one to start with.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, we’ll have to adapt it as we go,” he said, “as we always do.”

“Why?”

“Because some exercises could have different results. Don’t worry,” he said. “We won’t go too far, too fast. We’ll do our best to minimize the pain.”

“Is that even possible?” she asked.

“To minimize, yes. To stop all of it, no, not in PT at least,” he said, “because the whole idea is to force these muscles to work again. They’ve been sleeping, and they need to wake up, step up, and do the job. But we don’t want to shock them or force them. We want to coax them into doing it.”

She shook her head. “Sounds like a lot of pain to me.”

He looked up, smiled at her, and nodded. “It won’t be pain-free, that’s for sure. But one of the first things I want to work on is the fact that you’re in so much pain now.”

“Well, that’s not something you can fix easily.”

“No, it isn’t, but it is something we work at on a steady basis.”

She waited.

“We’ll start on the floor,” he said. “So down on the mat on your back, please.”

She groaned but managed to get down there. It was almost halfway a collapse. When she made it to the mat in the position he’d asked for, she closed her eyes and said, “Okay. Let’s do this.”

Two hours later she lay here, shuddering on the floor. He sat beside her and said, “You’re still not willing to let me know when the pain is too strong, are you?”

“I’m not sure if it’s a case of not being willing,” she whispered, “as much as it’s potentially something I don’t recognize.”

“And that’s a good answer,” he said. “I think you’ve been disassociated from your body for so long because of the pain, because of the brokenness, that you haven’t been in tune to what it needs, what its own needs are.”

“Maybe,” she said. “But, when you have many health problems, it’s a lot easier to ignore it all than to figure out which parts are working and which parts aren’t.”

“Understood,” he said, “and that’s why I’m here. We’ll get it figured out.” He straightened. “That’s enough for now.”

“Good,” she said. “I couldn’t do any more.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

She looked at him in surprise. “Why is that?”

“Not that you’re done,” he said, “but that you’re finally realizing that you can tell me that you’re done.”

“Well,” she said with half a smile, “I don’t have a great record with relationships. Including therapists.”

“In what way?” he asked, standing with his hands on his hips.

She shook her head. “It’s nothing to do with you.”

“It has everything to do with me,” he said. “At any point in time, where something’s blocking your healing, it matters to me.”

“Yeah,” she said, “but I see the shrink today. I’m not sure I can handle two sessions in one day.” And, with that, she dragged herself into her wheelchair and, without saying another word, slowly wheeled herself toward her room.

She would have another shower, to ease up the soreness; then she had her first session with the shrink. Too bad that session wasn’t after lunch. She would need food because she already felt weak. Her body hummed nicely. It was sore but maybe a good sore. Tomorrow she’d be even more so. She’d probably regret having done as much as she had done today. But, as long as Shane seemed to think he knew what he was doing, she’d have to put some trust in him.

So far, he hadn’t let her down, and that was more than she could say about a lot of other places she’d been in.

By the time she had a shower and redressed, she was running late for her appointment. Swearing to herself, she rushed as fast as she could toward the office. Then she realized she was likely going in the wrong direction and had to stop and ask someone for directions.

By the time she arrived, she was a good ten minutes late. She knocked on the partially open door, and someone called from inside. Pushing the door wider, she slowly made her way inside to see a woman. Melissa didn’t know why she assumed it would be a male. That’s what she had had for psychologists up until now. Only after seeing the woman in front of her did she recognize her from her first day’s introduction.

Dr. Sullivan looked up, smiled at her, and said, “Hi. It’s good to see you again.”

“Well, I wasn’t in very good shape when you saw me initially.” Melissa choked, feeling the need to pull some armor around her from that way-too-searching gaze.

“Arrivals are always tough,” Dr. Sullivan said with a nod. “How are you settling in now?”

“I’m settling in,” she said. “Still tired, still not quite there yet. But I’ve recovered from the transfer.”

“Good.”

At the silence that ensued, Melissa could feel herself tense.

“I gather you’re not particularly open to having this visit?”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you’re already guarding against any questions I might ask.”

“Well, it’s always a bit awkward,” she said, “because they never seem to be the questions that I can answer.”

“How so?”

“It just seems like, whenever I come to a session like this,” she said, “I feel like I’m a student in class still, where I’m searching for the right answer that you want to hear because that’s the only way to get a passing grade.”

Dr. Sullivan looked at her, then started to chuckle. “Honesty.