Page 55 of Tobias

Chapter Twenty

Tobias

I knock on the door of room 207 and enter a moment later.

“Good morning, Mrs. Simmons. How are you today?”

“I’m okay. How are you today, Tobias?” she responds in a raspy voice, her words coming out slowly as she catches her breath.

“Not bad.” I wash my hands at the sink, dry them good, then put on a pair of gloves.

She’s alone today, which isn’t a surprise. Mrs. Simmons has a family, a husband and kids old enough to visit her on their own, but she tends to shoo them away, not wanting them to see her like this. She’s a frequent flier here, unfortunately.

“We’re just going to do some range of motion today, if that’s okay?”

She nods, giving me a weak smile. I get her bed situated, lowering the rails and putting the bed at a height that’s comfortable for me. I start with her hands, stretching each finger carefully. Then I move to her wrist, elbow, and shoulder.

“This okay?” I ask.

“Yes, it’s fine.”

“If it’s too much, let me know. I won’t be upset.”

I get another nod as her eyes fall closed. I’ve worked with her for years, due to her MS diagnosis. She does physical therapy regularly to keep herself mobile and walking around, though she does use a walker on bad days, which seem to be more frequent. Usually she ends up here after getting the flu or pneumonia, some illness that really knocks her on her ass. It weakens her body further, making her bedridden, and because she’s a fighter, she wants to get back on her feet. Only this time, she’s looking a little worse for wear and the fire in her eyes isn’t as bright as I remember it from the last time I saw her. These are the cases that break my heart but also urge me to do better. If this woman can fight so hard for her life, even though she’s in pain every day, then I can too.

Brandon wasn’t wrong when he said I do this job because it satisfies a part of me that needs to help people, but it’s more than that. It really does keep me humble, and it reminds me that people have it worse than me, and I should always fight for what I want. Only now, I’m not so sure what I want anymore. Theo has my head all messed up.

“How are the kids?” I ask.

“Martin graduated high school this year.”

“Wow. He’s that big already?”

She huffs a little laugh that turns into a coughing fit, so I pause the stretches and pour her a cup of water. She takesa sip, then says, “I can’t believe it myself. Seems like just yesterday he was learning to walk.”

“I hear they grow up fast.”

I finish with her second arm, then move the covers back to shift her and work on her legs.

“You ever think of having kids?” she asks.

I huff out a surprised laugh. “I don’t know. It’s scary to be in charge of other humans.”

“You do just fine here.”

“I don’t have to take you home and change your diaper.”

She barks out a laugh that turns into another cough and a flinch. I don’t apologize because she hates that. I pause what I’m doing and help her get another sip of water.

“People like to say babies and toddlers are the worst, but it’s a lie,” she adds once she’s able to.

“Oh?”

“Teenagers are the hardest. Once they get to the age when they start doing things on their own. When you have to let go and hope they keep all the good things you told them in the back of their mind. When you have to pray they stay good humans and keep themselves and others safe. That’s the hardest.”

I cover her left leg with the blankets then move around to the other side of the bed.

“I can imagine letting go isn’t easy. Especially of someone you love so much.”

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