Free Love Still Stands by Kelly Irvin Page B

here and into the
     PT room ASAP—don’t you worry. You’ll be plenty warm when you start your therapy.”
    PT room. ASAP. This wasn’t her last stop? Bethel checked the clock on the wall over
     the doctor’s head. She’d already been at the clinic for more than an hour. If Elijah
     took his time and stretched out his errands, he might not show up at the clinic doors
     for another half hour—at most.
    “I really should be getting back to the farm.” She tried to read the words on the
     screen. They were too far away. “We just moved here and we have much work to do to
     get settled in and a school to build and the house is a mess—”
    “How’s your pain level?” Doctor Karen wheeled around and faced Bethel. “I’ve reviewed
     Doctor Burns’s records. He’s very thorough. He indicates you suffer pain related to
     the incomplete spinal cord injury you suffered. I assume he’s explained your injury
     to you. He also indicates you’re a prime candidate for physical therapy. I agree with
     him that you have the potential to regain at least part of your mobility if you’re
     willing to work at it.”
    More foreign language. “I’m willing to work at it. I just don’t know what I’m supposed
     to be working at.” Bethel skipped over the question of the pain. Some days it seemed
     unbearable. On those days, she resorted to the pills Doctor Burns had prescribed.
     But then she felt as if her arms and legs were overcooked noodles. Her head seemed
     stuffed with more noodles and her pillow beckoned to her. “Is this work something
     I can do at home? I need to watch the children and help with the cooking and the laundry.”
    “You have children? How many? Your record doesn’t indicate that.”
    “No, no, they’re my sister’s children. She has five. Young ones. She needs my help.”
    “It’s good that you’re active. I’d like to start your physical therapy here at the
     clinic. You’ll get a home program as well, but I want to supervise your movements,
     at least at the beginning.” Doctor Karen returned to the computer and tapped the keys
     again. “The record indicates that your internal injuries healed rather nicely. They
     removed your spleen, repaired the damage to your uterus—”
    “Yes, yes, I know.” Bethel didn’t need the recitation of her injuries and the words
     relating to her female parts only served to deepen her embarrassment. “Do we need
     to talk about this?”
    Doctor Karen looked around, her thick brown eyebrows lifted, giving her a quizzical
     expression. “Do you want children?”
    “Jah—yes.”
    “Then we need to talk about these things.” She wheeled across the slick tiles within
     inches of the table. “There’s a notation in your files about your faith. Your lifestyle,
     if you will. I don’t know much about it, but trust me, everyone here is in the same
     boat as you. Georgia and I and the other staff members are the only ones who will
     see you in this gown. The PT is a different thing. Everyone uses the equipment. Do
     you own workout clothes?”
    “Workout clothes?”
    “A T-shirt. Sweatpants. Shorts. Sneakers.”
    Sneakers. She had sneakers. Feeling like a student trying to please her teacher, Bethel
     almost raised her hand. “I have sneakers. At home, I have sneakers. But no shorts.
     No sweatpants. We only wear dresses.”
    “The sneakers are a start. We’ll work something out.” Doctor Karen smiled as if pleased
     with her star pupil. “Now let me take a look at you.”
    “A look at me?” Bethel clutched the gown to her. “Is that necessary?”
    “I’m a nationally certified physical therapist with a doctorate degree. It’s what
     I do.” She patted Bethel’s arm. Her hand was cool and soft. “I need to see where you
     are so I can benchmark your improvement. Based on your records and exam, I can design
     a rehabilitation program for you. I’m not doing this to be intrusive or to embarrass
     you. I promise you that. Do you trust