One Step at a Time

I don’t remember anything. What happened to me?”

“You just came out of surgery. The surgeon says you’ll be just fine.”

“Surgery? Why did I need surgery?”

You really don’t remember the accident?”

“No. The last thing I remember is getting dressed for a run. I wasn’t sure if I needed a jacket. You suggested a light shell. I can’t remember if I listened. Sorry babe, you’re usually right but none of this has anything to do with surgery. Did I fall and break something? My legs feel sort of weird. It’s as if they’ve been wrapped in cotton and restrained. I can’t seem to move them.”

Sara, Rob’s wife, turned her head to avoid his gaze. She didn’t know how to proceed. How do you tell someone who had been a lifelong runner, a champion marathoner, that he had lost his legs.

“Come on babe, you can tell me anything.” Rob didn’t want Sara to see the fear that had suddenly consumed him. Had he fractured both his legs and torn some cartilage in his knees? He could rehab anything. Over the years, he had overcome many injuries. He just needed some answers. Why couldn’t he remember anything and what wasn’t Sara telling him? Would he be ready for his next race in four months? Surely rehab wouldn’t take that long.

Rob reached up and touched Sara’s arm. “Come on babe, I can handle anything. It can’t be that bad. We’ll handle it together. We always have.”

Sara bent down and kissed him on the cheek. He noticed for the first time that she was crying. Something was really wrong. Sara was not a woman who cried easily.

“Alright, give it to me straight. The suspense is killing me. Why am I lying in a hospital bed?”

Sara couldn’t stop crying but she bent over and embraced Rob while whispering in his ear: “You were in an accident.”

“And…?”

Sara straightened up and shook her head trying to regain her composure. After a few minutes, she continued.

“You were hit by a car on Wharton Road and lost consciousness.”

“So, I had a concussion. That would explain my loss memory. I don’t have a bandage on my head and other than my memory, my brain seems fine. So, what else?”

“The car crushed your legs.”

“Are the fractures fixable? Will I be able to run soon?”

Sara stepped back, shook her head and sobbed uncontrollably. Rob tried to sit up.

“What is it?”

Sara continued to look down at the floor and uttered almost imperceptibly: “Rob, honey, they took your legs.”

“What do you mean they took my legs?”

“They had to amputate. They weren’t salvageable.”

In a moment of hysteria and giddiness, Rob could only ask: “You mean I will have to be the next Blader Runner? You remember what the guy from South Africa did to his girlfriend?”

Sara didn’t know how to respond. She couldn’t laugh. Yet she wanted to encourage any optimism or positive thinking, but this was ridiculous, maybe macabre. She decided to go along with it anyway. It was a distraction.

“Why? Are you planning to get rid of me?”

Rob smiled ghoulishly. “Better make sure there are no guns in the house.”

“I wasn’t aware that either of us owned any firearms. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Rob’s heart was racing. He had always been able to mask his emotions with humor. It helped him avoid painful feelings, but this was something else. How long could he keep up this charade without breaking down? He identified so strongly as a runner, it had overshadowed every other part of his personality or life. Sara often said running was more important to him than she was. When people asked him what he did? He mentioned running before his successful career as an architect or his reputation as a prodigy violinist. He had put off having children until he could no longer compete as a runner. Between work and training, he insisted he couldn’t be a proper father. He told Sara, he never could do anything half assed. Fatherhood would require his full attention, and he wouldn’t have the time to devote himself to it until his running career was over.

When she heard the news from the doctors, Sara was afraid Rob would become suicidal. He was always such an up person, but this blow may be too much. She knew it was only a matter of time before he crashed. As a psychologist, she counseled many patients how to deal with trauma, but this was different. It was Rob and it was his legs. She felt helpless and clueless how to proceed.

“Rob, honey, I’m not sure it’s the right time to joke, although I always appreciate your humor. Talk to me. Tell me what you’re feeling. It’s okay to grieve but we still have each other and you’re still Rob. Let’s plan for a way forward. Talk to me. I love you.”

Rob face turned dark. He pursed his lips and nodded. He pulled back the covers and stared at his bandaged stumps. It was a below knee amputation, so he slowly lifted his thighs off the bed. Then he tried moving his stumps up and down slowly building up speed until blood stains appeared on the bandages. Sara put a hand on one of his thighs.

“Rob, stop! Honey, you’re hurting yourself.”

Rob turned his head into his pillow to hide the tears. He didn’t talk for what seemed like an eternity to Sara. Finally, he regained his composure and smile.

“Sorry, I just had to see what I could do. The Blade Runner idea is not so far-fetched.”

“Oh Rob, honey, one step at a time. See, you’ve got me doing it. I didn’t mean to be punny. Let’s wait and see what the doctors say before we make any plans. Maybe it’s time to embrace the other aspects of your life and personality, that make you the Rob I love. You’ve been neglecting the violin, and I know you have an exciting new project at work.”

“Yeah, yeah but you know I won’t be able to go on any long runs with you anytime soon. What about that run we were going to do together in Utah?”

 “Rob, honey, stop! We’ll find plenty of other things to do. I’ll cancel our reservations in Utah. We share many other things besides running. If you don’t run again, I’ll still love you.”

“What do you mean? Don’t you think I’ll run again? Is that what the doctors say?”

“No, no. I’m just saying you’re multidimensional and we can have a rich and full life together even if you don’t run again.”

“So, you don’t think I’ll run again.”

Sara realized she had taken the wrong approach with Rob. He was fixated on running. After all, they met in a running group. Much of their early relationship was built around runs. They still ran together on weekends, but Sara had dropped out of competitive running. She had to find a way to support him without disillusioning him. How could she give him a reality check without causing him to crash?

“I’m not saying that. What is it, you used to tell me when I’d bonk near the end of a marathon? One foot in front of the other, one step at a time. That’s all I’m saying. We’ve got to get you well enough to leave the hospital and start a rehab program. In the meantime, let’s find things that fill your life with joy and happiness. Maybe it’s time to plan that concert tour you’ve avoided the last few years. I’m sure the opportunities still exist. A few years ago, you’d built quite a repertoire. A month or two of practice and you’ll be ready.”

Rob had a wan smile as he nodded. “Yeah, I’ll think about it. I’ve got a lot to digest before making any decisions. Give me some time.”

The rest of the day, Rob and Sara sat quietly and held hands. Rob was transferred to a rehab unit and was given prosthetic legs which sure enough resembled blades. The physical therapist, a young woman put him through his paces on parallel bars, several grueling hours a day.

“I think you have a sadistic streak, Jenny.” Rob was exhausted but Jenny always pushed him to do a little extra each day.

His mood became darker and darker as the days passed and he became more frustrated. “F**k off!” became his mantra when pushed. Eventually, he just refused to move and would go back to his room and mope. Jenny called for a conference with his doctor and wife. They decided some radical changes were needed. Two young Paralympic runners were contacted and the doctor prescribed anti-depressants (which Rob refused).

***

Mary was an Afghanistan war veteran. She had lost one hand and both legs during the war. After a year of rehab, she won a gold medal in the mile in the Paralympics. Steve had lost both legs due to a flesh-eating bacterium and was training to compete in half marathons. He wore the identical prosthetics to Rob’s and had been an Olympic silver medalist prior to his illness. Also, he and Rob were both 35 and had competed in many of the same marathons.

Sara led them both into Rob’s room. Rob lay on his bed with his head turned to the wall and did not acknowledge their entrance. Sara had become accustomed to his moodiness but would have none of it this day.

“Rob, stop acting like a baby. These busy and quite accomplished people have agreed to talk to you today. The least you can do is greet them and listen to what they have to say.”

“Can they give me my legs back?”

Steve stepped up to the bedside and said: “No, but I can tell you how you can get back to competing so I can beat your butt again.”

Rob turned his head, and he blinked a few times.

“Steve Brand? I thought you had died. You had a fatal infection. The whole running community was mourning you.”

“Yeah, I know. It was premature. My legs died but I didn’t. Now, I’m the new Blade Runner and coach college kids. Your wife tells me you thought you’d be the next great Blade Runner. Well, you’ve got competition. Buddy, I know how you feel. It sucks but you can still have a great life and even run. I had a great wife supporting my recovery and it looks like you’ve got the same.”

Sara smiled and nodded in appreciation. She then introduced Mary.

“Rob, this is Mary Sutter. She’s a decorated war veteran, accomplished artist and runner”

Mary had a prosthetic left hand and two prosthetic legs. She reached out with her right hand and shook Rob’s.

“I saw some of the buildings you designed online and watched one of your concerts on YouTube. You’re a very talented guy. I wanted to be an architect but after the war, I settled on being an amateur artist and runner. Believe me, it wasn’t an easy road. Two suicide attempts followed by a lot of therapy, but I got there. You can do it.”

Sara added: “Mary is being modest. Some of her art pieces are hanging in the Museum of Modern Art in New York and she just won a gold medal in the Paralympics.”

Rob became a little more animated and engaged both Steve and Mary in conversation. They shared their ups and downs during their rehab and finally the sweetness of their success. Both had full lives and avoided calling themselves crippled or disabled.

Steve even urged Steve to stand and walk with him down the hallway. Rob leaned on Steve’s shoulder. It was a sight to behold! Two Blade Runners walking the hallway of a rehab ward. Steve noted Rob’s atrophied quadriceps.

“Come on man! You’re not doing your exercises. If you work hard on those quads, you’ll be walking and then running in no time. It took me a year, but I got there.”

Rob shook his head and for the first time in months, he was determined to do better. When they returned to his room, Rob became emotional.

“You guys don’t know how much this meant to me. Thanks for sharing.”

Both Steve and Mary smiled and said they’d keep in touch. Before leaving, Steve winked at Rob and said: “See you at the next race!”

When they left, Rob took Sara’s hands in his and said: “Thanks honey. I needed that. Sorry for being such an asshole. I will do better.”

Rob’s depression slowly lifted, his attitude improved, and he worked harder in rehab. By the time he was released from the hospital, he used only a cane. After months of outpatient therapy, he was able to walk unassisted. He began to practice violin daily and eventually returned full time to work. On the first-year anniversary of his accident, he joined Steve at the college track. His training had begun. He was ready for the next step.