He takes a seat in one of the empty chairs so I follow suit. “Well, I wanted to discuss his time here in the ICU, specifically his emotional state. I understand the schematics of his accident and his injuries, but was he emotionally stable? Did he have any outbursts toward you or anyone else in the department?”
I pause, surprised, and wonder whether I should answer him or not. In a way, he is Roman’s therapist, so he may need to know these things. But, then there’s the privacy clause. I take a peek at him. “Did something happen in therapy?”
Tom sighs. “Let’s just say that it was going well until I started talking to him about what he’s going to do once he gets better.”
I frown. “Oh, well I’m sure that wouldn’t sit well with him. Roman wanted to make a career out of being a firefighter and now that that’s taken away from him, I don’t think he fully understands his purpose in life. His life has completely turned upside down.”
Tom nods in agreement. “Yes, I understand where he’s coming from. Yesterday he completely blew up on me and just went off. I mean full on cursing at me and a few other therapists. You see, I started him on a new workout this week and it’s not going so well. So, on top of that with the career business, I can see why he’s a little down right now.”
I clear my throat. “Roman needs to be pushed. He’s stubborn and has lost his confidence. Once you learn how to knock down his walls, he’ll open up to you.”
He looks at me with an equivocal eye. “You know him well don’t you?”
“Well, I’m no expert. Can I ask, how did you know to talk to me?”
He smiles. “I spoke to Mrs. Zeppieri over the phone and she told me to talk to you.”
I laugh at his response. “Ah yes. She has her ways of getting what she wants. Well, is there anything else I can help you with?”
“Yes actually. I’d like you to sit in on a session with Roman and me.”
My eyes grow wide as shock hits me. “What? No, I can’t possibly intrude. That’s a private session and honestly I don’t think Roman would like that very much. It could make matters much worse for you.”
“I insist you come. Besides, he has no say on who can come to watch the session. I’m in charge, not Roman. The next session is tomorrow at eleven AM. I trust you can make it?”
I stare at Tom as I think of a response. Seeing Roman vulnerable and irritable is not a pretty sight, but if he truly needs help, I can’t deny him that. Maybe all he needs is one last push from me. Nodding, I reply, “Sure, I’ll be there.”
Tom smiles as he stands up. “Excellent. Thanks for the chat and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
******
Making my way upstairs to the physical therapy center, a jolt of nerves flows through my body. My nerves are so bad, I almost feel sick, ready to race to the bathroom if need be. Glancing at my phone, I’m about fifteen minutes late, but blame the subway for that. I actually left my apartment on time for once.
Walking inside, the receptionist greets me. “Hi, do you have an appointment?”
Looking around for Tom or Roman, I answer, “Actually no. I was sort of invited here today
by Tom. He asked me yesterday to come and sit in on one of his sessions.”
“Oh yes! You’re Melanie. Right this way. Oh, you can hang your coat up in the closet.”
Today is my scheduled day off so I’m wearing regular clothes and not scrubs. Following her toward the back, we pass a few rooms filled with patients working on their treatment. Therapists coach them, providing a sense of confidence and hope.
We continue to walk toward the back until we come across a closed door. Peeking through the glass, I notice Tom standing and watching Roman with caution. They are both standing in the middle of the room; Roman is holding on to two balance bars and is in between them. I watch in silence as he looks down toward the ground, concentrating on walking and holding his weight, balancing on the bars. Each foot moves inch by inch on the mat provided, getting closer and closer to the end of the bars.
His hands tighten around the bars as his arms tremble, trying to hold on to the balance. The receptionist opens the door and lets me in, but I remain silent, not wanting to disturb Roman’s concentration. She closes the door behind me and walks back toward the front of the center. I step closer as quietly as I can, hoping that Roman won’t notice. Tom peeks up and nods at me, signaling me to step forward.
Sweat beads down Roman’s face as he continues to inch forward. I notice his legs trembling as a look of pain mixed with panic settles across his face. His hand slips from the bar, not able to support the weight of his body. As he starts to fall, I let out a gasp, reaching out to him. Luckily, Tom is right there in a flash, able to hoist him up just before Roman hits the mat.
As he’s caught, his eyes fall upon mine and a flash of rage beams off his face. Steadying himself in Tom’s arms he stares dead at me.
He roars, “What are you doing here?”
Taken aback by his abruptness, I flinch at his volume. “Tom invited me.”
He rips his arms out of Tom’s grasp, holding on to the bars instead. He glances at Tom. “Why is she here? She has no reason to be here.”
Tom stands tall. “She is here because I asked her to come. I think she will do a great job in making you push yourself harder and regain that confidence back.”