08.01.3013: Challenge and Compromise
Summary: Elodie assesses Flint's physical and mental capacity to leave the hospital, with a little egging on from Anabethe
Date: 1 August, 2013
Related: Will let Flint add any if he wants
Anabethe Elodie Flint 

Willowtree Hospital
Physical Therapy room for wheel chair novices
1 August, 3013

Flint …is going crazy. Oh sure, he can watch as much HNN and mindless soap operas only so far. And he can take all the paperwork Marah can give him just for it to be something to do. Day by day, a cast gets taken off his body. First it was the one below his knee for his tibia, next his collarbone, followed by the left arm. And finally, just today, the ones for his femur and his ribs came off. Which was one hell of a relief. Thank goodness for Haven medical technology and it's speedy healing process. Of course, he's still paralyzed, medical technology can only go far. And it's allowed him to get in and out of his wheelchair without too much trouble due to all the casts. Still, the Ash Knight is an active person, and being active is hellish when you can't move your legs. So, he's found himself watching yet again, another soap. "Are you -really- going to believe she's not cheating on you? Come -on-, man. Where else would she of been besides that fundraiser?"

"Oh my. It's worse than I thought," sounds a voice at the bottom of Flint's bed. In a Naval Military uniform with the Iah Family Patch on the left side, and the white arm band with a red cross, Lady Doctor Elodie Iah gives the knight a grin and nods her head to indicate she is speaking of his entertainment as she picks up the tablet to double check that she has the right patient. "Lord Sir Jacob Grantham?" she looks up to the man again.

"That would be me, yeah." Flint looks down from his screen at Elodie. "Hey, you have to find something to occupy your time. Daytime holo shows isn't my first choice, but I have to make do with what's availble. Either that, or get lost in my own head, and I don't think I exactly want to be there right now." You know, what with having useless legs and all. "So, here to run some more tests, doc? I think your nurses have drawn a couple gallons since I got here. And I'm told I'll have some interested scars on my lower back."

Elodie grins once more, and puts the tablet back down. She pushes the wheel chair up next to the bed, and shakes her head. "Tests, yes, but not those kinds of tests. I think these might even be more… your kind of tests." Once she has the wheelchair set next to his bed, she puts on the brakes and stands back. "If you'd be so kind as to follow me, Sir Jacob." With that, she turns and walks to the end of the bed, and takes two steps towards the doorway before she stops to wait for him.

"Goody." Flint sighs. "Alright, be there in a minute." It takes a bit of time, mainly because he's testing his newly healed arm if it can support his weight while he's moving from the bed to the wheelchair, and while the majority of effort is on his undamaged arm, he gets into it pretty easily enough. Pushing the wheels to move him forward, he follows along. "So, what's with this test."

A tiny smile curls at one corner of Elodie's lips as Flint says, "goody." She is patient as he gets himself into his wheelchair, and makes no move at any point to assist him. When he catches up, she walks towards the doorway, leading him out of the patient rooms. "Like most other knights, you're getting restless. I don't think I'm going out on a limb to say that you want to go home." She pauses in front of a door, and waits. "Your case is slightly different. So… if you want to go home, we need to know that you can handle yourself independently."

"That's putting it mildly, doc." Flint states to Elodie, wheeling himself along next to her. Years of staying in shape have thankfully given him the upper body strength to move himself along easily. "Not to say that I haven't appreciated everything the hospital here as done for me. Sure I'd still be in traction were it not for all of you. Frankly, I don't know what I'm going to do when I'm out. A paralyzed knight isn't much of a knight, yeah? One of the other doctors said I should go on vacation, sort my head out. But if you're wondering if I'm going to crack my head on the toliet every time I need to use the bathroom, the only reply is that I hope not. Because that shit would be embarrassing."

"Hm. Literally," Elodie agrees. She still stands outside of the door of the room where the testing is to take place. "With all the tests my lord brother had to accomplish to attain his knighthood, it seems to me that there is more to being a knight than just sitting on a horse with a lance, or bashing Hostiles on the head with swords." She waits patiently.

"Sure, there's always a good amount of testing. Knowlege of military tactics, being able to command troops. Training, stuff like that. Dependant if you're supposed to be an heir, you have even more. Lots of paperwork. I've actually picked up a share of that. Figure it'll let me be good at something." Flint explains. Coming up to the door, he looks to see if he can see the hinges or not, signfying it's a door that swings inward. But he does at least reach for the handle to open the latch and push inward with a the frame of his wheelchair.

Elodie nods as he gets the frame against it the door, then steps forward, pushing the door open. "We'll get to opening a door when you've had some more basic practice. I wanted to see you make an effort," she says. Holding the door open, she commands the lights on, and the room lights up, showing some ramps, curbs and other simple obstacles. "Of course, most doors in places can be opened with a verbal command, or pushing a control panel, but it's good to be prepared for any obstacle."

Wheeling himself through the door(with no casts, for Bethe's sake), Flint takes a look at the room, and then back at Elodie. "Are you fucking with me, doc?" he grunts. A glance look at his chair. "People do this? I mean, I expected to do some weight lifting and whatnot to make sure I still had the upper body strength, but this?" It's so much anger, really. More like a mix of surprise and frustration. "So what you're telling me is that I have to pass through all this to be allowed to leave the hospital, right?"

It's likely that if anyone was looking for Flint, they'd be directed down a couple hallways towards this room.

Anabethe stopped by Flint's room first, then made her way through the halls when she was directed to this new location. Hands in her pockets, she lingers a short distance away, trying to get a read on things before she sticks her nose into them.

Though she is often a soft hearted person, Elodie does not, indeed, fuck around. "Two things, Sir Jacob," she points out, her voice not raising or showing anger, but completely matter of fact. "One, do you doubt that you have the upper body strength and sense of balance to master these skills? And two, are you prepared to have to depend on someone else every time you want to go somewhere or do something?" Her blue eyes challenge Flint's without aggression, just simple statement of fact.

"I may be confined to a wheelchair, and my legs may be useless, but I'm still an Ash Knight." Flint snorts. "There is no retreat, and there is no giving up. Death before dishonor." Maybe such an extreme creed might not be so needed with something like that, but let it be known that he takes on a challenge head on when presented with one. His arms still certainly look like he can bench a couple hundred pounds. It's only been five days, not like he's lost all of his muscle mass in that time. "Alright, then. Where do we begin, doc?"

Anabethe stays quiet a little longer, moving to lean against the doorframe as she watches, arms crossed loosely over her chest. She's not exactly the sneakiest person out there, but there's plenty of noise in a hospital to cover her steps.

Elodie actually snorts as she sets down the tablet and walks out to a level part of the floor. She taps a button, and a series of poles about a foot high rise out of the floor in a straight line. "I don't think anybody who values their life would make the mistake of dismissing you as 'useless' Sir Jacob," she tells the Ash Knight. "First things first. Straight line down the left side of the poles, then come back along the other side. Same as a jousting run, just on the chair. Are you familiar with Lord Brigham Peake?" the question is tacked onto the end of the command without pause.

"Heh, haven't met many Granthams, have you, doc?" Flint remarks, taking the instructions and nodding and what he has to do, watching the poles sprout out of the floor. "We don't do much in the way of jousting. Horses don't do too well on Ignis, but yeah, I get where you striking at." One hand on each side of his wheelchair on the extended circular rails of the wheels, he rolls hims down one end, turning about and coming back. "Sorry, I can't say that I have. Should that be someone I should know?" he asks, coming back around. And that's when he sees Bethe near the back. "What? No cheerleading outfit and pom-poms? C'mon, Bethe."

"Well, Aidan keeps trying to sell him to me," Bethe says in regards to Brigham, a faint smile quirking. "But I can't say I've met him either. And no, sorry, I was never much of one for cheerleading. Always preferred to be on the field myself." Her smile deepens at one corner of her lips, crinkling the corners of her eyes. "Good to see they've got you out of all the pieces holding you together, though. He giving you trouble, doc?" she asks with a glance to Elodie.

Elodie turns when Flint addresses another person, and since he uses such a familiar tone, she summons the woman in with a wave of her hand. "Not many, no," she agrees. "Now start on the left of the first one, and weave through them to the end, circle around the end one and repeat the process back. Should know, probably not. Lord Brigham Peake is a fairly brilliant scientist, and works with robotics, voice activated, etc. If you aren't wanting to go the cybernetics route, I suggest you could work together with him. Creating a wheelchair that can be used by knights. Unfortunately, you won't be the last knight to lose the use of his legs." She glances up from watching him doing the new route through the poles to Anabethe and gives a slight shake of her head. "No more than expected," she replies. "Lady Doctor Elodie Iah," she adds by way of greeting, her eyes studying the newcomer for a moment or two. "Young Lady Sir Anabethe Kournas?" she guesses.

"I've been more than my fair share of solutions to my legs." Flint replies. "Cybernetic spine, or a more organic replacement, bot of which will replace my lumbar vertebrae." Flint comments, taking a look at the invisible path he's going to have to tranverse. Beginning again, it's not as smooth as he'd like to be, but at least he doesn't touch any of the poles, suggesting that he's been using the wheelchair, but haven't come close to mastering it. Wheeling by Bethe, he smiles up at her. "If you were on this field, I'd feel bad for you. Wouldn't want anyone in my position. So yeah, cheerleader is better. Yeah, got out of the last cast on my femur yesterday. Nice to feel without the weight." Then he's off again, bobbing and weaving through the rest of them with the same care, but lack of experience. It's passable, at least?

"Got it in one," Anabethe nods to Elodie, smile easy. "Cybernetic spine, huh?" she echoes, looking between the two. "Sounds pretty impressive. If you're not careful, I'm going to mistake you for some sort of Hostile. Just leave the face to be safe," she adds, winking at Elodie.

"I'm sure you have have heard of those things, none of which would require Lord Brigham's expertise," Elodie replies mildly, smiling to Anabethe when the woman confirms her guess. "Again," she commands. "I'm thinking of a chair, one that can be useful, possibly on shipboard or somewhere else where you would be on smooth ground…" she pauses as there's beep on her comm unit, gives a puzzled look, "please excuse me," she says, answering the call. The puzzlement soon fades to a smile, and she nods. "Thank you. I'm sorry that I can't answer his summons at this time, as I'm doing some rehabilitation with a knight, but please inform Sir Kaedin I will come as soon as I can." She listens to the reply, then clicks the comm off. "Sir Kaedin's cat has gone into labor, and he's promised me one of the kittens," she clarifies for the other two, waiting for Flint to finish. Then she nods. "Has anyone talked to you about going up or down inclines, yet?"

"Well, I intend to walk again. At some point in the future. Won't be today or next week. But I will walk again. I'm not out of this war yet. Just sidelined for awhile." Flint replies. "A chair like that might be useful in the meantime though. I'll at least consider it. Because I mean," a glance over at Bethe. "I'd like to get back in action when I can. They won't start without me." he adds dramatically. "How you doing?" he asks the Khournas while Elodie is on the comm. "Tell your Drakes thanks. Got some good card players in that group. I appreciate it." When the doctor is done he nods. "In the few rides I've taken on my own, I've tackled one or two of them. Good workout for the arms. Doesn't make up for actual weight lifting, though. I might need some help with that when I'm able."

Anabethe's lips quirk, amused. "Cat's gone into labor. Oh good. Well, they seem to be better at popping out kittens than we are at kids, so I'm sure she'll be all right." Now that her cover's been thoroughly blown, she moves further into the room, idly pacing to stay ahead of Flint. Follow the bouncing Bethe! "I'm all right. Had a nice little spat in the tower the other night. Drama. Always drama. I blame the teenagers, personally."

Elodie grins and watches the two. She gestures to the ramps. "So, they've taught you to lean forward and to balance on your back wheel on the way down?" There's a ramp that goes up to a square block, with a ramp set to come down at a ninety degree angle from the other one. "And curbs?" She stays out of the conversation about drama and teenagers, instead concentrating on her job at the present.

"That…" Flint pauses for a moment. "Okay, maybe there was one time where I figured that one out the hard way. Learned pretty quickly what to do when I spilled out of my chair. And…then the chair kept rolling past me. So, I'm laying there. On the floor, trying crawl my broken ass back to my chair when thank the Crone some nurse walked by and helped me out." he relates a incident from yesterday. "The curb part? Okay, yeah I haven't encountered that one just yet." Following along after Bethe, he comes to the ramp with the sheer drop. "Okay…" he eyeballs the curb, it's only like the height of a normal curb, so not anything drastic. Well, maybe not for people who can actually. Carefully, he rolls forward, letting his weight be centered on the back wheel, so when the smaller front wheels touch down, he doesn't go sprawling forward. Then as the back wheels come down, he leans foward so he doesn't spill backwards. tha-dunk. "Okay…" he looks behind at the curb. "People in wheelchairs have it a lot harder than I thought. A lot to remember." After all that, he nods at Bethe. "Yeah, Devon dropped by. Told me allll about it."

"Drama!" Anabethe exclaims, throwing her hands in the air. "It's exhausting. Nobody pulls this shit with Dad, you know. Just me. Granted, it doesn't help that she seems to be under the impression she's actually a princess and not just-" She cuts herself off, shaking her head. "Girl needs her meds adjusted before she gets an attitude adjustment with a foot up her ass. Might borrow yours, if you're not using it."

When it comes to drama, Elodie's going to be silent on the matter. She does nod as Flint pushes himself up the curb. "Not bad. Now go down… same principle applies as going down the ramp. Lean back, balance on your back wheel, back wheel goes down the curb, then lean back to your front wheels again."

"Har har." Flint deadpans at Bethe. "No thanks, I don't want my foot laden with some kind of-" then he too shuts up. "Just know that I agree with her. And if I had been there…well, I'm just glad I wasn't there. But, I'm not exactly as threatening as I used to be. All I could do was break my limbs at her." Yes, he is still listening to Elodie, repeating the process going down the curb. kah-thunk sound again. Going down, he actually has to extert some measure of strength to keep the chair from dropping too fast off the curb, causing him to grunt. "Damn, I just gained a lot more respect for people that deal with this everyday."

"Agree with who?" Bethe walks backwards off the curb, doing her part to keep Flint moving. Totally helpful. Or something. "I really still don't get what the big deal was. Vic and I made up, at least. Not sure how Nitrim's feeling about it. And much as I want to keep things close, I just really…" She sighs, grimacing. "Wish Dad would've set him up with just about anyone else. Or, you know. Someone who would've stayed with us, instead of sending him away. How's he doing, doc?" she asks, looking back to Elodie.

"So, you lost your ability to think or lift a weapon, Sir Jacob?" Elodie asks. She glances to Anabethe's question, and then back to the man. "You have knowledge to pass on, you can still command, coordinate attacks, and if you practice, you'll be able to move around as well as most able bodied people… probably even better and faster if you put your mind to it. You have new respect for people in wheel chairs? Then have new respect for yourself, and what you're going to be able to do. Work at it as hard as you worked at becoming a knight. As for lifting weights… all you need is a spotter, and we do have therapists who are trained in teaching you how to modify certain exercises." She pauses, realizes with something akin to a grimace that she's lecturing, but forges on. "Your brain is a bigger hinderance than your lack of ability to use your legs. He's doing well enough for a beginner, but he's too cautious and slow to be out on his own as of today." Anabethe's question is finally answered verbally. "But… my suggestion to you, Lord Sir Jacob Gratham, is that you only use your bed for sleeping. Now that your casts are off, spend your days in here or in the weight room. Or just wheeling around the hospital grounds. Go eat in the dining hall or have someone bring you decent food from outside and eat in the park. Be active and improve your physical coordination. If you keep at it, you'll be going home in a day or two."

"I know." Flint probably gets the good intentions she's saying, but he's a lot of this recently. "My goal for current is to just be useful, whatever capacity that leads me to, and wherever that leads me. You haven't been the only person to point out that I can still train from a chair" There's a glance a Bethe for a moment. "Look, doc, Doctor Iah, what if I made a comprimise with you? I've been trying to make some plans with some close friends of mine. Young Lady Ashleigh Grantham and one or two others. I've been…'recommended'," he uses air qoutes, "to take some time off, get away from things for a bit. Go on a vacation. What if, taking these people with me, to make sure I don't fuck up, that I'd be allowed a 'tempoary leave'. And then I can come back to show you how exactly I've come along." Pause. "Plan to go to the Terran Islands, I'm told a change of scenery would do well for my…current mental disposition. Give me time to work on all this stuff you've pointed. But I figure so long as I don't go alone, you might be partial to agreeing. So, yeah, a middleground."

"I promise not to let him drown," Anabethe chimes in with a smile that's probably meant to inspire confidence, but mostly looks a little suspicious. Maybe a little more than just a little suspicious. Getting away with things has never really been her strong suit.

"Not only you can you train, Sir Jacob. You can train others." Elodie's attention shifts for just a moment. "No, you'll just be the one to push his head under?" she asks Anabethe with a smile in return, and that could be a wink from the doctor. The smile levels out when she looks back to Flint. "I'll make you a deal," she concedes, her tone considering and maybe not hugely encouraging. "I don't hear one more gripe during our session about your uselessness. You get the rest of the day to practice in here, tomorrow morning, you pass my test, and you can go. I will have one of our therapists work out an exercise regimen for you, and you have one of your close friends go over it with them. Your close friends keep you on that regimen, and you're there. If I come to check on you, and you're not upholding your end of the bargain, then you come back here." One eyebrow is arched as she waits for his answer.

Somewhere, Elodie's words are making sense. But he's heard similair things from Anabethe. And from Ashleigh. And from Devon. Seeing a trend? "You're such a great friend, have I ever told you that?" is the dry remark at at the Khourni. "Alright, Doc, I can live with that bargain." See? Granthams do know how to make a deal instead of just blugeoning themselves through everything. He did learn something during his time as heir. "No more bringing myself down. And if I do, I'm pretty sure there's three people I know that're more than willing to get in line to knock some sense into me. Starting with that one." he jerks a thumb at Bethe. "And if you want to check in on me, feel free. You'd probably look good in a two peice."

"I would never!" Anabethe protests, grinning. "Unless he deserved it. And I'd let him up in time to not die, because I don't want to have to bring his body back, you know?" She finds a place to lean again, crossing her arms loosely over her chest. "I've got important things to do and all, but I won't let him atrophy too badly," she promises. "It'd be a waste."

"I'm sure they need the help of All Six to knock any sense into you," Elodie offers with dry humor. "But if today is any indication, even that isn't enough. I've been told I look good enough in a two piece. But I only wear them when I'm off duty. " She raises an eyebrow. "Why do I get the feeling there's never a time when he doesn't deserve it?"

Hey, this might be so bad afterall. So far, there's the possibility of seeing four women, three because we don't count Ashleigh being family that would just be odd, willing to get half naked around him. So, Flint is going to count that a victory, however slight. If anything, it does wonders for the self-confience. "I'm sure to check in at a hotel that has a gym." he points out, shaking his head at Bethe. "Sure, you'll all important an whatnot, but I won't say no if you find time to help out." Then he looks a little hurt. Okay faux-hurt. "I'll have both of you that I can be a very nice and responsible person. You both wound me. But, uh.." Here's where it's hard for him. "Thanks, Doctor Iah. Know our talks haven't been…well, they usually end in frustration on both sides, but I am thankful for you help." There, he said it.

Elodie's semi tough attitude softens for a moment when he thanks her, and she nods. "I chose to do what I do to keep our Knights in the fight, and not just the one on the battlefield," she tells him quietly. But, that softness doesn't last long. Having wrung the promise out of him to not hear any more gripes, she sets about more thoroughly pushing him through paces. Up and down ramps, forwards, backwards, backwards through the poles (although she sinks every other one to give him a fighting chance), and she even makes him tip his chair over sideways in a controlled fall to learn how to right his chair and get back into it on his own. Only when he's got the basics down, does she leave him with words of encouragement to keep going, and the promise (or threat) that she would see him first thing in the morning for his testing.

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