"It's a Wrap!" - Chapter 4

Here's a new chapter of "It's a Wrap!"- hope you enjoy it!

Cathy has told me to let you know that she hasn't fallen off the surface of the earth and that she is still working on "Every Breath I Take". She's just really busy these days, she's cramming for her fall finals.  She hopes to have a new chapter for us soon and has promised me that she'll try to do more regular updates after she's done with her exams and things get less hectic for her. 

As for me and my stories; my muse is very uncooperative and I'm extremely busy. Hope rings slow down and my muse gets more co-operative soon.

-Mille

WEEK NINE

The last few weeks have been good. A couple of weeks ago I got rid of the rigid back brace. Thank God for that. Another thing I’ve gotten rid of is the incontinence briefs. For the past eight days I’ve had no leaks between my intermittent catheterizing. It’s a huge relief that my bowel and bladder routine seems to be established and working pretty well. That’s another worry I can cross off the list.

I finally got my wheelchair today, two weeks after it was supposed to be delivered. My wheelchair. That’s two words I never thought I’d say. And it sure as hell is two words I didn’t expect to be exited to say. But I am. As I wheel down the hallway from the physical therapy room I’m amazed at the difference between the chair I’ve loaned from the rehab center for the past few weeks and the one made for me.  I’ve gone for a TiLite chair. It’s a lightweight titanium chair with a low backrest, no armrests or push handles. I really like it. I’ve opted for a dark gray metallic paint on the frame and the rest of the chair is black. For a wheelchair it looks pretty sleek.

I pass two of the nurses assistants, Cara and Tommy in the hallway near my room.

“Nice wheels, Chris,” Tommy says, giving me a thumbs up.

“Thanks! I’m amazed at how much of a difference it is between this and the chair I’ve loaned for the past few weeks. It’s like night and day.”

“Most patients say exactly that when they get their first custom chair. It really makes a big difference that it’s made-to-measure and adjusted to fit your body,” Cara interjects.

“Definitely,” I agree. “It’s almost like it’s part of my body.”

“Well, that is the idea,” Cara replies. “I know some paraplegics that say they feel like a part of them is missing when they’re not in their chair.”

We chat for a couple of minutes before I excuse myself. It’s almost lunchtime and I’ve got to cath myself before I head to the cafeteria.

…

Frank shows up after dinner.  He finds me in Joel’s room. We’re watching TV and chatting like we often do in the evenings if Meg and the kids aren’t coming. I had no idea Frank was coming tonight. He hasn’t called or texted me to let me know and I can’t help but wonder what brings him here. Yes, we’re friends, but all of his visits so far has been about business. I know the hospital setting creeps him out. And now it’s very clear that he’s uncomfortable with Joel’s very obvious, severe disability.

“Hey, Frank,” I greet him. “What brings you here?”

“Hey. I’m in town this week. Another session in the writers’ room. I need to talk to you,” he says. Then he adds; “In private”.

“Sure, Frank. This is my friend Joel by the way. Joel, this is Frank. He’s the executive producer of ‘Dean & Dad’.”

“Nice to meet you, Joel,” Frank says. I notice he looks a little unsure of what to do. It’s not like Joel can shake his hand.

“Nice to meet you too,” Joel replies with a smile, which seems to put Frank at ease. “I’m a big fan of the show. I really hope you manage to convince Chris to stay on for another season. I’ve been doing my best to convince him to go back to work.”

“We’ll see,” Frank says, clearly a little thrown that Joel knows me going back is an option. Then he turns to me. “Can we go to your room?”

“Yeah. Just give me a sec to let the nurses know I’m leaving Joel,” I say, as I release the brakes of my chair and put my hands on the pushrims.

…

A few minutes later we’re in my room. I stay in my wheelchair and Frank settles in one of the armchairs by the window.

“Have you been discussing confidential stuff with your buddy Joel?” he asks, clearly irritated.

“I haven’t given him any details, Frank,” I say. “I’ve just told him you want me to stay on and that you’re working on how to write my character in a wheelchair. That’s it.”

“And you’re not worried that he’s going to share that on Twitter or something?”

“Frank, the guy can’t move anything, he’s completely paralyzed from the neck down. I’ve typed the tweets he has posted lately. He’s learning how to use a voice-controlled computer, but it’s difficult because the ventilator influences his speech. It’s not like he can share stuff without me knowing.”

“Well, he could ask a friend or family member to type for him when they visit.”

“Believe it or not; he has no family and I’m kind of it when it comes to friends.”

“Wow, that’s pretty rough,” Frank says, softening a bit. “Okay, I guess you’ve got it under control and I trust your judgment. Has your friend Joel convinced you to go back to work?”

“Yes and no. I really want to come back, Frank. You know how invested I am in the show and I have no doubt we could figure it out on set.”

“But…?” Frank queries. He knows there’s a ‘but’ and I explain my worries about travel and the practical stuff.

“I’ve been looking at the scheduling and I think we can make some adjustments,” he says.

An hour later it’s a done deal; I’m going back to work. Frank has left and I grab my phone and call Meg. She picks up on the third ring.

“Hi babe,” she greets me, she’s clearly surprised to hear from me. “Miss me?”

“Always,” I reply. “Do you have a few minutes?”

“Yeah. The kids are watching ‘Finding Nemo’ so they’re occupied. What’s going on?”

“Frank just visited me. You can probably guess what he wanted?”

“I have an idea,” Meg says. We’ve discussed me going back to work and the challenges it will present several times.

I tell her what Frank and I discussed and what we agreed on.

“I’m happy you’ve worked things out,” she says. A smile is evident in her voice. “I know you love your job and really want to go back to work.”

“I’ve had my doubts over the past couple of months, but I know I’ll regret it if I don’t give it a shot.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling you,” Meg says. Then she changes the subject; “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I say. Tomorrow’s another milestone in my rehab; I’m going home for the first time and I’m spending the weekend there. I’m nervous and excited at the same time. I’ve been out in the ‘real world’ on a few field trips, but this will be the first time I have to manage on my own for two full days.

“The kids are really looking forward to having you home for a couple of days.”

“I look forward to being home with them.”

We chat for a few more minutes, then one of the kids comes and asks Meg for something and we end the call. I lean back in my chair and rake a hand through my hair.

…

Late Friday evening I’m sharing a bed with my wife for the first time in more than two months. She’s curled up next to me, I savor the feeling of having her close to me. I’ve missed this so much.

“So, how do you feel your first day at home went?” she asks me, breaking the comfortable silence between us.

“Pretty good,” I say. I mean it. Things have gone well and I’m amazed at how ‘normal’ everything has been. “It’s great to be out of the rehab-center and just spend time together as a family.”

“When do you think you’ll get out of the rehab center permanently? I remember they mentioned 12 weeks when you were transferred from the hospital.”

“Well, I’ve been there for about eight weeks now and things are going well. If this weekend is a success I’ll probably get transferred to an outpatient program for the rest of my rehab.”

“That means you’ll be at home and go to the rehab center for therapy sessions a few times a wee, right?”

“Yeah, that’s it. I really hope I get the thumbs up for that.  Shooting starts again in a couple of months and I’d really like to spend some time with you and the kids. This summer hasn’t exactly been like we planned, has it?”

“It hasn’t, but I don’t think it has been all bad. I’m so glad things are getting back to normal though,” Meg says.

“As normal as things can get, at least,” I say. “Some things will never be the same.”

“I’m aware of that. We’ll have to create a new normal I guess, but I’m surprised at how well we’ve already adjusted.”

“The kids are amazing. They seem to just adapt to whatever we throw at them. And I never thought I’d adjust to the thought of spending the rest of my life in a wheelchair, but I’m actually okay with it. Of course I wish the accident never happened, but things could be much worse…” My voice trails off.

“You thinking about Joel?” Meg prods.

“Yeah. I mean… he’s completely dependent on other people. He can’t even breathe unaided. He can’t do anything for himself. I can still do most things I did before and I’m completely independent. I’m very lucky compared to Joel.”

“Yeah, you are.”

“I’m also lucky because I have an amazing family that loves me and supports me.  And I have a strong group of friends too. Joel has no one. He says I’m his only friend and we’ve only known each other for a few weeks. I think it’s true. He hasn’t had any visitors.”

“That’s so sad. He really has no one?”

“Nope. I think the saddest thing is that he’ll probably end up in an assisted living facility when his rehab is over in a couple of months.”

“You mean like a nursing home?”

“Yeah, that’s basically it. His place isn’t accessible and he doesn’t have the money to have all the modifications needed done.”

“That’s awful! He’s younger than us isn’t he?”

“He’s 32.  I’ve thought about something, but I’m not sure if we could make it work.”

“What?” Mel props herself up on one elbow so she’s looking straight at me, making eye contact.

“Well, he’s great with the kids, right?”

“Mhmmm… He is.” She’s clearly not sure where I’m going with this.

“I was thinking he could move into the guest house. He won’t be able to go back to his old job, but he is great with the kids and I figured he could tutor them as rent.”

“For real, Chris? Don’t get me wrong, I really like Joel, he’s a great guy, but I’m not up for being his 24/7 nurse. I’ve got enough to deal with, especially when you go back to work again.”

“His insurance will cover around the clock nurses and assistants. He just needs somewhere accessible to live. The guesthouse is accessible, it even has a roll-in shower.” The previous owner of our house had a brother with ALS and he lived in the guesthouse for a few years, until he got too sick and had to move to an assisted living facility.   “Can you please just think about it? I haven’t mentioned anything to Joel about my idea; I don’t want to get his hopes up about something that might not happen.”

“I’ll think about it. Let’s get some sleep, we’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

“I love you,” I say, pulling her in for a kiss.  The kissing escalates fast; we’re both hungry for each other. For the past two months the closest we have gotten to making love is kissing. I’m nervous. I can’t get hard enough to have sex without medications. I’ve gotten reflex erections while cathing, but they don’t last long.  I pull back slightly, Meg whimpers as I break the kiss.

“What?”

“You’re aware that I can’t get hard right? Not without medications and I don’t have those yet.”

“I know, babe. Don’t worry about that now. I just want to make love to you and be close.” She shuts me up by claiming my lips with hers once again.  When we finally drift off to sleep in each other’s arms an hour later we’re both exhausted, but I feel happier and more content than I can remember having felt over the past couple months.