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Samantha Keys was still at home.  She was in a cast from her waist to her ankle.  At times she experienced the euphoria and guilt that came from realizing that unlike most of the others she still had two functioning legs and with time the injured leg would get better.  Soon she would shed this plaster prison and begin her life again.  Her leg would probably be almost as good as before the shooting.  At other times she was frustrated that she was nearly bed ridden while the others were going back to work.  With some difficulty she could get from one place to another on crutches.  Getting up and down with a cast from the waist to the ankle on one leg was very difficult.  Sitting was impossible.   She could either recline or stand.  The cast itched and it was beginning to smell.   She hoped that it would soon be taken off. 

She looked at the calendar.  She was injured thirty-nine days ago, nearly six weeks.  She would be seeing the doctor today, maybe he would consider taking the cast off and giving her a brace.  As she waited for the transport to the doctor’s office she reflected on her decision to take a shower that fateful morning.  Had she decided to pass on the shower she would be on two feet by now.  Her husband was alternately angry and sympathetic.  She knew now she must follow every one of the doctor’s orders to the letter.

The transport came, picked her up and took her to the doctor’s office.  Without special transportation she could not even leave the house.  She could not get into a car.  Transportation was difficult and demeaning.  Samantha had to be placed on a stretcher in her home and then placed in a vehicle like an ambulance.  At the surgeon’s they carried her inside on the stretcher.  She was x-rayed and taken to a room.  The doctor came in after what seemed like an eternity. 

“I think we can take you out of that cast today but we’ll most likely have to put on a long leg cast.  When they cut off that cast it is imperative that you lay completely still.”

“I understand.”