Page 23 of Through the Snow Globe
“I’m perfectly capable of pulling down my Christmas tree and the boxes of ornaments, you know?” Maria said. “The stroke may have slowed me down, but it didn’t ruin me.”
“I understand that you want to be independent, but please don’t do it on your own, Ms. Harris,” Diana pleaded. “I’ll help you when I get there. Just wait for me, okay?”
Maria hesitated. “You’ll help me?”
“Of course. It won’t take long.” And it would save Maria a lot of future suffering with a broken limb.
“Fine. That’s very nice of you to offer,” Maria said. “I’ll see you soon.”
Diana exhaled softly and disconnected the call. Then she drove to the west side of town as fast as the speed limit would allow. Ten minutes later, she pulled into Maria’s driveway and cut the engine. The sleet had stopped, leaving the ground a soft mush that sank beneath her boots as she cut across the lawn and headed toward the older patient’s front porch.
When Maria opened the door, she greeted Diana with a weak smile. “There you are. I was just about to give up on you coming and go ahead and climb into my attic.”
“Well, I’m glad you waited.” Diana stepped into Ms. Harris’s home. “Sorry, I’m late. I’m having a bit of a strange morning.” That was an understatement. She shut the front door behind her and followed Maria into the living room where they normally worked together.
Maria moved slowly. Her stroke had affected the whole right side of her body, which made her right arm hang flaccidly at her side and her leg drag just a touch as she moved. Diana had taught her to use her left arm to support the right when she walked, which the older woman was thankfully doing. “It’s no problem. It happens to the best of us,” Maria slurred, another effect of her stroke.
Earlier this week, when Diana had seen Maria, the slur had been barely noticeable. Now that time had reversed three weeks, however, there it was again.
“How are you today, Ms. Harris?” Diana looked around the living room, her gaze falling on the box of Christmas decorations near the wall. “I thought I told you to wait for me.”
“I did. I had already gotten that little box down when we spoke. There are three more boxes I wanted to get. I waited on those since you were so adamant on the phone.”
Diana inwardly cringed. Maria had been less than five minutes away from breaking her ankle again. She hadn’t, though. Diana had changed fate, and if she could do that for Maria, she could do it for every horrible aspect of this day, including Linus’s accident.
“Good. Thank you for waiting. I’ll just get those boxes once we’re done with our therapy.” Because therapy came first. That was Diana’s job and Diana did it well. She was more than a qualified physical therapist and she wasn’t curt, despite what her anonymous patient had written on a Glow Card.
Maria reached for her right shoulder and grimaced. “Ow. This arm is so stiff today. Must be the weather. It’s been so cold this past month. I could hardly stand to come out from under the covers this morning.”
“I’ve heard it might snow,” Diana said, knowing good and well it wouldn’t, no matter what the weatherman on her local television station said. Diana gestured for Maria to lie on the twin-size bed, which had been moved to the far corner of Maria’s living room last month. Right after her stroke, Maria was unable to safely climb the stairs to get to her bedroom so everything had been moved to the ground floor of her home. She was taking the stairs better these days, but that would all change if she broke her ankle while pulling boxes from her attic.
Diana pulled up a chair and took hold of Maria’s right arm, gently guiding it up and past her head until she couldn’t easily move it any further. Then Diana held the position for a deep stretch, lowered Maria’s arm back to her side, and eased her through several repetitions. Diana passively stretched all the joints of Maria’s arm including her shoulder, elbow, wrist, and finger joints, swollen from limited use.
She had been seeing stroke patients like Maria for so many years that she could practically do this type of therapy in her sleep. She bet William couldn’t say the same. When William had been hired, Diana had gone with him to several clients’ homes and she’d taught him the basics of good patient care. Of course, William had invested more time in talking to those patients than listening. He’d later said he was building rapport, but Diana suspected he was just making up for a lack of knowledge.
Not that being inexperienced was a crime. All therapists started out that way. But William shouldn’t be her supervisor. And he wouldn’t be after today. This afternoon, Diana was going to walk into Mr. Powell’s office and walk out as the facility’s newest supervisor.
After stretching Maria’s arm, Diana helped her patient sit up on the edge of the bed. They ran through basic strengthening exercises in a seated position because Maria’s balance was affected—all the more reason the older woman shouldn’t be climbing up and down a ladder with heavy boxes.
“Okay, let me get those other boxes for you,” Diana finally said. “Where are they? In the attic?”
Maria nodded. “That’s right. Thank you so much for offering to help me. To tell you the truth, I was a little worried I might hurt myself.”
Diana turned back to her patient. “If that’s the case, why didn’t you call to ask someone for help?”
Maria lowered her gaze a moment. “Because I don’t have anyone to call.”
Diana remembered seeing framed pictures on Maria’s mantel. “No family?”
“Just a daughter, but she doesn’t speak to me. We had a falling out many years ago.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Diana knew exactly how hurtful it was to have family that didn’t want to see you.
Maria forced a wobbly smile, but Diana could see the sadness in the woman’s eyes. “It’s okay. It was my fault, and I understand why she doesn’t want to speak to me. To be honest, my stroke has been good for me because it brings you to my home. I guess one might say I’m a bit of a shut-in. I used to know most of the people in this town, but now, well, I’m afraid I don’t keep up with many of the locals.”
Diana was speechless. She was Maria’s only visitor? In all these weeks coming here, Diana hadn’t even taken the time to learn that Maria didn’t have any family who visited. Diana hadn’t wanted to cross a professional boundary. She was here to treat Maria’s symptoms after all, not to pry into her personal life. “I’m sorry, Maria,” she finally said.
“For what?” Maria chuckled softly. “For being my angel?”
