Chapter Text
Ilya felt his heart hammer in his chest. He should not feel this anxious. It was just getting from the wheelchair and over to a PT bench placed against the wall. What could possibly go wrong? This should be nothing compared to the stuff he’d willingly and happily put himself through on the ice through the years.
It sure as hell didn’t feel like nothing.
It felt so incredibly impossible, even with the PT doing most of the work for now.
Before he’d rarely given physical consequences even half a though. Putting himself in a position where he was likely to be targeted by one of the big enforcers of the league, even the down right dirty ones, in order to get the puck or make a play? Of course. He’d probably do that with a smile most days of the week.
The fact that he’d needed the damn sail lift in order to get into the damn wheelchair so far, and still tended to have a dizzy spell as a result did nothing positive to his confidence going into this.
He kinda wished that Shane was there to offer morale support. Or something like that.
He eyed the PT bench, the thin plastic board, two sheets of a red silky material that removed friction for when he had to slide against either beds or those plastic boards, and the red and black weird belt that laid on top of it.
“You ready?” the physio therapist who had worked with him in his own hospital room so far asked.
“Doesn’t feel like it, Rita.” Why put on a brave face and lie? He was pretty sure a neon sign placed on his forehead would be a less obvious giveaway of his hesitation (read: fear) towards the transfer they were about to put him through for the very first time.
She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, studying Ilya as he sat there. “Any particular reason?”
He shrugged. No, there wasn’t an actual justifiable reason. He was just scared. Honestly, he was being a baby about all of this. Getting from the chair to the bench, WITH HELP, should be nothing. He could practically hear his long deceased father berating him for being the worlds biggest sissy.
Well, logically… If his father still had been alive, and not riddled with alzheimers, the old man would probably have cut ties right as it became obvious that Ilya’s injury was a permanent one.
“…Just nerves? Feeling like you’re being rushed into this?”
“Yes.” Ilya nodded, “I am being a whimp about this.”
Rita’s expression softened even more, and she sat down on the PT bench. “No. You are not being a whimp. I’ll let you in on a little secret…”
Ilya glanced up.
“Most people are some level of scared or at the very least nervous when I put them through stuff they haven’t tried yet.” Rita shrugged, “But I can assure you, it won’t take long before you feel confident doing these transfers unassisted. -You’ll probably suggest we ditch the transfer board in like a week or two.”
Ilya took a calming breath, before giving the slightest of nods.
“We’ll do the first few transfers with Matt up on the bench acting like a closer wall. Just in case you get off balance and start falling backwards. But, you’ve proved already that you sit really well on the edge of your bed as long as you can support yourself with your hands, and you’re doing better than expected without assisting yourself with your hands too. Most people with your level of injury takes longer to be able to balance like that.”
“-I can only do that for a few seconds.”
“You did 55 seconds without touching the mattress with your hands yesterday.” Rita shook her head, “That’s longer than just a few seconds, and it’s longer than the balancing act being all luck. Okay? Once you build up a bit more tolerance, you’ll have no problem sitting for way longer.”
“Okay, yes. A bit more than a few seconds.” Ilya felt the corner of his mouth quirk upwards into a small smirk. “But I was so tired afterwards.”
“And that’s where the tolerance bit comes in.” Rita shrugged, “Remember it’s only been about two weeks since you had to get back into bed after sitting up in the comfort chair for like 45 minutes.”
Ilya nodded a little.
“-And I have it from good authority that you got helped over in your chair at 9am this morning. It’s almost 1pm. Have you been back in bed yet?”
“No.” Shit, was he smiling? It felt like he was smiling. Actually, grinning.
“Exactly.” Rita grinned back, before her expression turned a tad more serious, “Now, have you remembered to do the little pressure relief things? The shifts from side to side, or leaning forward. Or the push ups that your wrist was cleared for? -the dips, minus the actual dip part…”
Ilya nodded, “Yes. At least every half hour. I try to get it done every 15, but that slips out a bit…”
“Super.” Rita nodded with a satisfied grin, “Have you tried the push up version, or are you sticking to the leaning versions?”
Ilya answered by locking his wheels and placing his hands on top of the push rims, proceeding to lift himself off the cushion he had been sitting on.
“Great! How does that feel? Balance wise…”
“Mostly fine.” Ilya answered with a tilt of his head, a stand in for a shrug, “I have felt like falling off balance a few times, but then I just drop myself back down and hold on until I know I’m not falling for real.”
“Good.” Rita grinned, “I might need to adjust the time before you ask to drop the transfer board down to a single week. Because that move right there is like a quarter or a third of the unassisted transfer, if you break it down into specific parts.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. She’s serious.” Matt nodded as he stepped over from where he had been tidying up a few things after his session with his patient earlier, “It’s just a slightly different hand placement. Making sure your feet are placed in a sensible way. The lift combined with shifting yourself sideways… And then the final part is just stopping the motion and making sure you’ve found your balance. Of course, it will take a bit of practice… But… You’re no stranger to pushing yourself in order to get technique down to an art.”
Ilya nodded a little, “I do like getting things right…”
“Bet.” Matt grinned, “Now, why don’t we start getting you ready, put the belt on and get the board in place, and maybe you’ll feel ready once everything’s prepped?”
Ilya nodded a little.
HEATED*RIVALRY
The first transfer had been terrifying to get into. But in the end it had gone way smoother than what he’d pictured in his mind. That being said, since his injury his mind had been way better at jumping to worst case scenarios than it had been before.
He had seen himself pass out and slip onto the floor. He’d seen his chair rolling off. He’d seen Rita underestimating his weight and both of them landing on the floor. He’d seen all sorts of mishaps.
Rita and Matt had tried talking him through what was going to happen, but he’d been to busy thinking about everything that could go wrong.
But everything had gone exactly as they had explained. He hadn’t even felt dizzy after the transfer. He had needed to support himself once he came to a stop.
For the first transfer the PT’s had done everything for the transfer for him. It was mostly for him to feel the speed of a normal assisted transfer. So that he knew what to expect for the next few attempts. They had checked up on him, making sure he was doing alright after the first transfer, how he had experienced it.
He got to sit for a bit before they transferred him back into the chair. Well, Rita transferred him. Matt only hovered behind him.
“How was that?” Rita asked once Ilya had situated himself properly in his chair once more.
“…I was scared of nothing…” he scoffed, but there wasn’t any spite or self-degradation in his tone, just a tiny bit of awe. “It felt safe.”
“Yeah, that’s what we aim for.” Rita shrugged, “Do you want to go for it again? Maybe taking a bit more of an active part?”
“Can I?”
“Of course.” Rita nodded, and started explaining how Ilya best could help with the transfer.