She Told Me To “Walk It Off” After My Fall—Then The MRI Revealed Why It Was No Accident

to love. She was in her forties, with short gray hair and kind eyes that didn’t offer pity.

“We’re going to learn how to transfer today,” she said on day fourteen, wheeling a chair beside my bed. “Bed to chair. It’s going to suck. You’re going to hate me. But you’re going to do it.”

She was right. It did suck. The first time I tried to transfer, using continue reading …