Give it time
Seeing Dean’s eyes water up, this is it, I know it he can’t stand me now.

“What is it Dean?” I ask.

“I think this is too much for me,” he says tearing up more, and his jaw clenching.

“Can you not see past this and help me face this?” my face so red my eyes bulging. He needs to stay, I still love him; he always said he would be there for me no matter what.

“No I don’t think I can, I did this to you and now I can’t look at you and not feel guilty.” he yelled

“I need you!!” I screeched at him. I need you, I need you, I need you.

“No you don’t, I will only hurt you more.” His jaw clenching again, and his voice deeper. He gets up from the chair walks over to the end of the bed, and grabs my legs. He’s scaring me; I don’t want him to leave.

“I did this to you; you can’t even feel me touch you, Aliza. I can’t live in guilt, I paralyzed the person I love the most and when you told me that our—“

“—please don’t say anything about that. I don’t want to talk about it. It’s too much.” holding my face in my hands careful not to touch the gash in my cheek. I look up at Dean. He has his hands on his head, pulling at his brown hair, pacing around the room, his face red, and his jaw clenching again. He’s so upset, why can’t I help him? But he doesn’t want to help me, or even want to be with me anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he says, barely opening his mouth, jaw clenched tight.

“Dean, don’t be sorry. Just stay here with me and help me get through this. I can’t do this on my own!” I grab my face again, tears running down my cheeks, burning the gash. He still won’t stay with me. He just can’t leave me alone with all this. What would I do without him?

“I am sorry. I am sorry that I can’t stay and help you. This will be better for both of us. I love you Aliza.” He said still red in the face. He turns and walks out of the room, slamming the door.
I stare blankly at the bone white wall. He’s still here. My pain. He’s so pale and old, his eyes blood shot, wearing a hospital gown just like me. He sits in the chair beside my bed, and whispers in my ear.
“You can’t go back, so why try to move forward?” When I try to get up he grabs my face and pushes me back to the pillow, reaching for my chest. I feel him squeezing my heart. I can’t breathe. It hurts. Looking at my monitor everything is normal. Why is it normal when I can’t breathe, when my heart is stopped? Get off me, get off me! I can do this, and I can do it alone. Feeling fingertips of the medicine swivel up my back and the pain eases back to normal. The smell of the old broccoli left over from lunch sitting on my tray like a watery lizard. My eyes getting heavy from all my crying. I fall asleep.
Knock, Knock.

“Aliza?”

“Yes?” I turn to look at my clock it’s 8:00am. Wow, I was tired. I can’t believe I slept that long. A tall, tan, fattish man walks in; he’s in a lab coat and has a clipboard in his hand and a pen in the other.

“Hello Aliza, I’m Dr. Render. I’m going to check your vitals.”

“Ok.” I lay there on my bed while he checks my monitor, my temperature, and looks in my eyes.

“Aliza, you’re doing great, let’s keep this up so you can start therapy and get to moving on your own,” He says with a smile on his face.

“Thanks Doctor.” I smile back at him. He turns and walks out. I grab the remote and turn on the TV, flipping through the channels. I stop on a commercial for Pizza Hut’s pizza. I can remember it all now…

I can remember. I watched Dean pull up to the Pizza Hut door. Walking out to the car, I opened the door and slowly got in. My hands shaking, I squeezed them in between my legs.

“What’s wrong Aliza?” he asked.

“Oh nothing. Just tired.” My voice quiet.

“Yeah, Hon.” Watching him from the corner of my eye, I never caught his attention. Not talking for minutes. I have to tell him, I have to, he needs to know.

“I’m pregnant, Dean.”

“What!?”

“I’m five weeks pregnant.”

“How could this happen, Aliza? We were protected every time!” His cheeks getting red.

“I don’t know, but I’m pregnant and we can’t change it.” Dean stomps on the gas.

“We're going to get another test, and talk about this!” I look over at him. He has turned ghost white.

“Dean are you ok?” He doesn’t answer. Seeing the ditch ahead, I try to grab the steering wheel, but my seat belt stops me. I cover my face from the shattering glass. Looking over at Dean, his face is all bloody. Turning my head around a piece of glass grasps my cheek, I feel blood running from my cheek to my forehead. We must be flipped over. I feel and hear a pop, my legs go numb. Losing blood from my cheek and the pressure from being upside down, I am losing vision. I can’t see.


Reaching for my pitcher of water, I see the door open.

"Aliza? It’s Doctor Render again here to check your vitals."

"Ok." Getting excited for good news. I hope it is good news anyway. He checks all my vitals and sits in the chair beside me.

"Aliza, it's hard to explain what happened, we overlooked a place in your left leg. It has an infection in it, and we will need to go into surgery to amputate your leg from the knee down. If we don’t it will rot or spread infections elsewhere. I have scheduled it for tomorrow at 4:00pm. I do have some good news, though. Your right leg has been doing so well that I think it may get some feeling back if you keep up all your therapy. Do you have any questions?" He asks.

"No." I answer, trying to clear the lump in my throat. I do have some questions. What is going to happen to me when it’s over, when I go home, I probably won’t even be able to tie another shoe again.

"Ok then. I will let you get some rest." Walking to the door, he turns around.

"This will help you." He smiles at me and walks out the door. Holding my breath for a few seconds, closing my eyes, trying to take in all that has happened. Why me? I haven’t done anything to deserve this. A nurse pushes in the door with an older lady in a wheelchair.

"Hey there, Aliza, how are you feeling?" she asks.

"I think I’ll be ok."

"I have you a roommate here. This is Martha." She waves at me and I wave back. Wishing I didn't have to have a roommate, but happy that maybe I will have someone to talk to. Martha sits in her wheelchair beside my bed while the nurses bring some of her clothes in, all of them bright colors.



"Hi sweetie," she says with her little soft voice, her white hair curled back, with her short bangs covering her forehead, and her face of wrinkles smiling at me.

“Hi Martha.”

"This is a lovely room, I hope you don't mind sharing it with me."

“No, it's fine.”

“Well good then sweetie, it will be a joy.”

“I hope so.” watching the nurses help her in the chair beside our bed, I see two cuts on her legs with stitches on her knees. She must have had knee surgery. Looking up to her face she sees that I was looking at them.

“Oh dear I'm so sorry.” Her voice in a panic.

“It's ok. I don't mind.” I'm glad she can feel her legs, I wish I could and that I would still have my leg. Only if I would have waited to tell Dean after he got me home. Looking up at the TV, turning the channels. Ugh. I don't like any of these channels. I flip the TV off and close my eyes.

"Aliza, could you hand me my bible on the table there? I can't reach it." Martha asks when I was just about asleep. Looking over to where it is, I can't reach that, I can barely sit up myself.

"No I can't I'm sorry." My eyes starting to tear up, I turn my head away so she can’t see me, but it was too late.

"What is it dear?" looking over at me. Her eyebrows burrowed down to her eyes. I wipe the tears away before they hit my gash.

"The Doctor didn't tell you?" questioning if she really didn't know.

"No dear." still looking at me wanting to know happen.

"It's hard to talk about, I don't know if I want to." turning to look the other way.

"Oh sweetie. It’s that bad?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry" letting a deep breath out.

"Dear it will be alright, God only gives you what you can handle."

"Thanks, I'm glad you’re in here with me." Pulling up the pink blankets over my shoulders, I close my eyes.

"Good night, Martha. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day."

"Good night sweetie, you will be just fine. Leave it to God to keep you safe."
Waiting in my room for Doctor Render to come get me for my surgery. Wishing I could have some water, I watch TV, change the channel, all day dreading going in to surgery, I'm going to keep strong and make it through this.

"Aliza are you ready?" Doctor Render asks poking his head in the door.

"As I will ever be." taking a deep breath in and out. The nurses wheel me to the operating room in my wheelchair, propping me up in the operating table, they put an IV in my AC and put the mask over my mouth and nose, I feel all the air hitting me.

“Aliza, I will see you after the surgery,” Doctor Render says in my ear. I look over to him and nod my head. My eyes slowly shut.
Blinking up to see the pale white ceiling, then to the left, I see Martha in her chair, her head back, snoring. Blinking to the right I see my puke pink door. I look down. I see what is left of my leg. I can’t believe that this actually happened.
“Aliza what happened?!” Martha yelled at me, and about jumped out of her chair. Making me flinch in my bed, I turn to her.
“It’s a long story.” All I can think of to tell her.
“I’m going to be here for a while.” Her face so serious.
“I know, but it’s hard to talk about, it hurts so much.” Tearing up. My gash healed enough that it won’t burn when the tears hit it. Martha get out of her chair and in to her wheelchair and stops just beside my bed.
“Sweetie, maybe talking about it will help, I’m a good listener and I can help you through this.” This women maybe right, she can help me through this, Dean’s not here and hasn’t showed up to help maybe I need to give her the chance to help me.
“My boyfriend Dean picked me up from work and we were headed to my house. I told him that I was--.” Bursting out in tears, Martha puts her wrinkly hand on mine and squeezes. This hurts so bad all I can do is cry. I’m staying strong keeping it together and keeping it to myself.
“It’s ok.”
“I told him that I was pregnant, I was five weeks. He got mad and speed up to get us another test and he was so mad he passed out and his car rolled into a ditch. I heard some pops and my legs went numb, and I turned my head toward him and cut my cheek on glass. Then yesterday the doctor told me that I had an infection in my leg and that he needed to amputate it so the infection wouldn’t spread.” Taking five minutes to explain it to her I finally got it out.
“Oh sweetie. Is the baby ok?” she asks looking at my belly.
“No. I-- I lost it.” The tears still falling.
“It was for the best, I know it, and the baby is in a better place. This gives you a chance to get yourself together and start over.” She pats my hand and goes to sit in her chair again.
“Thanks, Martha.” Looking over to her I smile.
“You’re welcome, sweetie.” Her smiling back.
***
The last few weeks were tough; I went to therapy and took time to get a prosthetic leg and learn how to walk with it. My right leg has a limp but I can walk with it.
“Sweetie. I think you should give that boy a call.” Patting my hand. I need to do this, I can do this. This is what I’m going to do. I dialed his number.
“*Ring, Ring,* this is Dean, you know what to do.”
“Dean, it’s Aliza. I forgive you.” My smile reaching to my ears, I walk out the doors.