"Try to put them all in a binder for me so that I can look over them, a lot of information will be coming over and I need to go through them all before he gets here" I tell her.
She looks frazzled, but so does everyone here including myself. I have roughly 3 hours to have everything ready before he gets here. The stem-cell specialist will be here in 20 minutes to discuss options, and I just finished speaking with the London spine surgeon. This is all too stressful and exciting at the same time.
"I can't believe Levi Dawson is coming to our rehab center as a patient!" I hear Sarah, one of my aides say as she runs down the hall carrying sheets and towels.
It's really is hard to fathom, a movie star, no less, is in need of my help I start thinking to myself. Famous or not, the poor guy doesn't deserve everything he's going to have to go through now, no one does. From what I have been told, he was put on a flight here right after his surgery. He probably has no idea what is going on, which makes everything more perplexed.
I'm starting to feel a little nauseas, probably just my nerves. Although, I don't know why I am so nervous, I opened this center for people like him, like my sister, so they can have every possibility of living an active happy life. I have spent all my time in this building, working with patients, perfecting this program. I sleep at home, but otherwise, I am rarely there. I have dismissed most relationships because of my commitment and my goals. My parents admire my work ethic, though still want other things for me. All that I want at the moment is right here. This is the place I feel most needed, most helpful. Helping my patients regain their independence is something I strive for.
"Hey Charlie!, I have got the room all ready for him, and I have spoken to the staff about keeping it hush. I think they all get it" Nate says.
Nate is my assistant. He has poured as much sweat and heart into this program as I have, and I would not be able to run it without him. He does everything from toileting patients to helping them dress and taking over therapy sessions for me when I do not have enough time.
Everyone loves his honest personality. The women here adore his looks too of course. His dark curly hair and dark brown eyes, his dimples when he smiles, and his perfectly toned body; which is something he acquired from working out every day, and from lifting patients all day I'm sure.
"Thanks Nate", I smile back at him, and he can't help but notice my smile is more an expression of worry.
He grabs my hand, stares at me with his encouraging eyes and says "you are great at this! He may not be a typical patient and this is not a typical situation, but you are great at what you do. If his family and who ever else in charge of him didn't think you could handle this, they would not have sought you out all the way from London". I allow his words sink in for a minute and my smile turns genuine.
I finish reading all of the paperwork sent from the London hospital as the ambulance pulls up. Right behind the ambulance is a black SUV. Nate directs the EMT's to room #5 and tells the SUV full of family, I assume, to follow him to the room.
I did not get a chance to have a good look at him, but I heard him mumbling "Emma, Emma".
She's tall, blonde and beautiful, and I recognize her from a few movies. She's definitely his fiance.
An older couple maybe in their 60's are nervously following the stretcher. The woman's eyes are swollen and tearful and she's holding on to the older man's arm for support. This must be his mom. She has the same expression of worry and fear that all mothers have when something horrible has happened to her child.
Left behind in the front doorway is a well groomed British guy frantically waving one hand around in the air while he shouts into his cell phone.
Just when I am about to head to room 5, the angry dark haired guy walks over to me.
Immediately his bright green eyes open wide and he jerks his head back slightly while looking me up and down. I already know what he is thinking. I am young, no one expects someone of my age to be responsible for a facility like this.
"My name is Mark, I'm Levi's manager, I will be here for a while making sure he gets settled in", he says to me as he looks down at the floor and rubs his hand on the back of his neck.
As I lead Mark towards Levi's room, I see Levi’s father standing outside the door with his face resting in his hands.
Yelling is coming from Levi’s room.
"Walk again!, walk again!, what the fuck!", he starts screaming again.