“Don’t put any weight on your bad leg. Eventually you’ll have a walking cast. This isn’t it. We’ll use a wheelchair to get you around for now.”
She directed me to move from the bed to the chair and then rolled me to what I assumed was a bathroom. Without strength or sight, I was totally at her mercy. Throughout her instructions, she asked if I was all right or comfortable. Remembering Jacob’s warning, I only moved my head. The first time I did, I expected the throbbing from the day before, but it didn’t return. Maybe I was healing.
Now if only my memories would come back.
Sister Raquel removed something that felt like tape from my side, explaining that I had at least one broken rib. Then she fashioned some kind of covering for my cast that fastened tightly on my upper thigh. As she secured the material, I envisioned plastic wrap surrounding my leg. To prevent my leg from bearing weight, she directed my hand to a handle above my head. I guessed it was suspended from the ceiling. Holding tight, I was supposed to navigate on my one good leg; however, my underused muscles rebelled, cramping with each exhausting step.
I began to wonder if it was worth the effort until I sat on a plastic bench, she turned on the shower, and warm water rained upon my skin and hair. The clean scent of soap and shampoo filled my senses, washing away the musty remains of the hospital bed and tubes. Without thinking about the consequences, I opened my lips, filling my mouth with the water that continued to rain.
“Not too much, Sara; it wouldn’t be good for you,” Sister Raquel whispered, reminding me of the Commission’s decree.
After I rinsed off, she helped me out of the shower and dried my skin. She wrapped me in a soft robe as droplets of water continued to fall from my hair, and she said, “Your hair is quite pretty.”
I contemplated her comment and realized I couldn’t picture my own hair. By the way it clung to my back, I knew it was long, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t envision the color.
Would I even know my own reflection? I was lost in thoughts of other things I’d forgotten when Raquel helped me into the wheelchair, handed me a toothbrush, and directed my hand toward a cup of water. Unsure what to do with the water, I hesitated, not knowing if it was a test, or if she wanted me to drink.
“If you’re all right in here, I’m going to leave you alone for a moment while you brush your teeth. I need to go back in your room and change your sheets. When I come back, I’ll bring a fresh nightgown.”
I nodded. The little bit of water I’d consumed in the shower had merely whetted my thirst. I wanted more. As soon as I sensed that Raquel was gone, I drained the cup and hastily refilled it. At the rush of the running water, a cold chill tingled down my spine. I remembered Sister Lilith and felt sure that if she heard, she wouldn’t hesitate to reprimand me for my blatant disregard of the Commission’s decree. Nevertheless my thirst prevailed as I drank another cup of water before brushing my teeth.
Sister Raquel returned and whispered, “Elizabeth just arrived. I’m pretty sure Sister Lilith is ready to go, but she won’t leave until she sees you again.”
My tired muscles tensed and the water in my stomach churned at the mere mention of her name.
“Don’t worry,” Raquel continued, “They’re both still in the hallway. We’re the only ones in here. Before I take you back out, I want to get you dressed and comb your hair, and I need to replace the bandages on your eyes. It’s not good for them to stay wet.”
I sucked my lip between my freshly brushed teeth to keep from speaking. She was going to remove the bandage around my head. What if I can see? What if my eyes aren’t damaged? Then again, what if they are?
Raquel slipped a fresh nightgown over my head. Taking in the soft material, I felt long sleeves and buttons that ran down its entire front.
Whether from exhaustion or from being disconnected from the medicine, my fingers shook badly as I tried to fasten the buttons. The water I’d managed to drink sloshed violently in my otherwise empty stomach.
“Are you all right?” Sister Raquel asked as she reached out to stop me from falling forward.
I shook my head, perspiration coating my freshly washed skin.
“I was going to change your bandage and braid your hair, but let’s get you back to bed.” Concern laced each word. “I don’t want to be the one explaining to Father Gabriel why you collapsed in the bathroom.”
Father Gabriel? Wouldn’t she tell Jacob?