Page 120 of The Legend
“Oh yeah,”he grinned reaching for it. “Here,” then he slouched in the chair holding hiscell phone. “Now about that nurse of yours...howold is she?”
I gruntedflipping through the channels to find something interesting and not thatreality TV bullshit. “Fuck if I know. Older than you,”
Thesenurses were making me crazy. They were too attentive. I only wanted that typeof attention from one person, my wife.
“Pft...thatdoesn’tmatter.” He craned his neck to watch her walk past carrying a clipboard. “She’shot.”
Most of mytime spent with Casten was him trying to win the attention of the nursingstaff.
Axel and Italked mostly about racing. So far, he’d won the three night show in Barbervilleand then the Outlaws at Pike County, the Texas Shootout and just won the LasVegas Nationals. He was racing the perfect season this year.
This justproved to me the kid was a spitting image of me. While he was determined towin, I was determined to recover and get the hell out of this hospital.
When hewas able to visit the hospital and not talk about racing, he asked if I wasscared.
Was I?
In a way Iguess you could say I was but not for obvious reasons of wrecking or safety.
I wasscared of seeing the look I saw in my mother’s eyes, on my wife.
Arie cameto see me almost every day and forced me to watch ridiculous shows while shegave me all the dirt around the track. Emma and Arie werefartoo alikebut I found her entertaining to say the least. Even though Sway thought forsure she wasn’t like her, I saw it in the way her lips pouted out when sheslept or the way she would look at the bright side of everything. She was likeher. Arie also had this way that she needed to disobey every order given toher.
Oneafternoon she showed up with ice cream and donuts; two things we loved to eattogether; and sat down beside me in the chair next to the bed.
“So,listen dad,” she began flipping the lid of her ice cream and handing me adonut. “How are you really feeling?”
“Huh?” Itook a bite of my donut biding my time for an answer. I couldn’t lie to mydaughter. Just like Sway, she knew me.
“You knowwhat I mean.” Her brow furrowed in warning, her green eyes met mine. “You blameyourself.”
I wasquiet for a while before I answered. “It’s complicated.”
“I knowit’s complicated, but holdingyourselfresponsible forgrandpa’s accident, is not healthy.” She set her ice cream aside. “Grandma...mom, they need you right now and holding thisinside like that is hurting them too.”
Arie wasright. I did hold myself responsible but she was also right that everyoneneeded me now, I needed myself. I couldn’t hold it in like this. But it alsowasn’t something I could just turn off like a switch. Feelings don’t work thatway.
Instead, Ifocused on recovery. That I could control.
I hadphysical therapy every day along with spa time as the doctor called it. Reallyit was just me sitting in a fucking bath. Physical therapy wasn’t ideal. It’sintense, painful and challenging. Everything I was used to with years ofracing, pushing my body and mind to its limits. Being in excellent physicalcondition before the accident played a huge role in my recovery as did mymindset that I would return to racing.
Afterseven weeks in the hospital, I was ready to leave. But no, they wouldn’t letme. They insisted I stay for nine weeks. I had other ideas and wascontemplating just leaving if I could actually drive. But I couldn’t.
They hadall these stipulations that had to be done before I could leave. I had toanswer all these questions everyday about myself, then basic shit like whatcolor grass was or what letter comes after C. I had to be able to walk, notonly walk, but also they wanted me to climb stairs. They wanted me to be able todress myself too.
Then therewere the physical tests. When you have broken nearly every bone in your upperbody, moving hurts. Hell, just breathing hurts. During the physical tests I hada nurse who would come in, was burlier than Spencer and wasn’t gentle. Most ofthe time I would jerk and wince from the pain but then usually I would end uptrying to burn a hole through her with my glare.
Perhaps Iwas being unfair but I was certain that no one had ever had to go through somany hoops just to get released from the hospital.
This leftme once again depending on others, mostly my mom and Sway.
Emma wasthere a lot to and most of the time she was there on business. I didn’t want totalk business. It was as if I was avoiding reality. Not knowing was okay withme and actually made the recovery easier. I wasn’t sure what I would have tocome back to as far as my career and that scared me.
Would mysponsors support me?
Would myfans still cheer for me?
Would theother drivers treat me the same?
