Unable To Fulfill My Duty

• Tom Hunter, Grade 12
• Short Story
• 2008

Unable to fulfill my duty, I just have to lie here. I feel worthless. I am in hospital, in a solitary room, miles away from home. I’m lying in a cold bed for days on end without seeing a familiar face. The walls are painted an eerily lonesome white and only a 15cm TV on the other side of the room to keep me company. Just the sight of a recognized individual can bring a smile to my face. I try to imagine I am at home and I’m not cramped up in this unfamiliar room, with the pungent odour of disinfectant and the echoes of footsteps in a deserted hallway.

My mind is filled with ambitions of what I am going to do when I get home. During the routine daily dressings a worried look came across the nurse’s face, she walks out. She returns moments later with my doctor. The suspense is torturing, they whisper to each other. The doctor turns to me in a dreadfully painful tone, “the skin has to be regrafted”. I can still remember that instant vividly, it was a gut wrenching disappointment like I have never felt. My shoulders slumped and I fell deep into the mattress. I just wish it would have swallowed me up forever. I feel like I have no control whatsoever, I feel like I am the doctor’s puppet.

The road to recovery isn’t easy; the first steps I take are with the aid of a walking frame. According to the physiotherapist, “every little bit will help me in the long term”. At first I am only allowed to walk to go to the toilet. Even this menial task requires my full concentration. Walking used to come so natural and almost automatic to me, but now I have to think about every little step I take. I have to learn to trust my legs again; after all, I have lost 10 kilos. Will my legs be strong enough to carry my weight?

Now that I am out of hospital, people are trying to relate how they had once been injured to my situation and that they understand. The truth is they will never understand. They cant, they weren’t there with me. They didn’t have to bear the incomparable stench of burnt flesh; they didn’t have to endure the first painful steps on the way to recovery. They didn’t have to undergo the constant reminder of my ordeal, when on my first day back at school, every person I walked past asked about my experience and how it happened.

It took tremendous will power to regain my confidence in my actions, but I have learned to trust my legs after enduring the long recovery process and I am now truly appreciative of what and who I have in my life. I will never underestimate my will to get through any situation.