By A Slight Mistake 27

Translator: Silver Editor: Namorax

「27」

Every day, I underwent rehabilitation at the hospital.

My right arm wasn’t the focus this time.

The skin’s thickness was still too insufficient to do anything with it.

Instead, my right leg was the focus of this timee’s rehabilitation.

A person who has never had a comminuted fracture might not understand, but even the slightest movement of your leg was enough to cause pain.

Even after time passes, the aches still remain.

The only treatment was proper palliative care.

The bolts they removed were quite big.

After overcoming a life or death situation, enduring the pain wasn’t that big a deal, so I pressed on.

However, occasionally the pain was too much to bear.

Well, the fact that it had gone from constantly feeling sore to an occasional bout of pain was a good thing.

As long as I didn’t make any sudden movements, my condition only generated very few obstacles to my daily life.

A part of the rehabilitation process was listening to stories about people with similar injuries.

I’ve heard various pieces of advice about what types of behaviors to avoid and how difficult recovery could be if you give up on rehabilitation.

People who recklessly tried to recover usually worsened their symptoms instead.

Yes, I understand. The doctors wanted me to know this, definitely.

Basically, they were trying to hammer home the fact that I shouldn’t try to run away just because the rehabilitation was hard.

Even if it was just a little bit, it was nice that I was regaining control of my body.

Besides, my current rehabilitation program was professionally tailored to my current condition.

The shortest road to recovery was to do as I was told.

However, from the doctors’ perspective, it was quite eerie to deal with a teenager in their rebellious phase who did what they were told without complaining.

Typically, teenagers in my situation would throw a tantrum when their bodies were stressed to their limits, so my silent acceptance was a bit abnormal.

Well, that was to be expected.

I was around forty on the inside after all.

This kind of incongruity was to be expected.

I only broke my silence in cases of unnecessary pain.

I hated doing useless things.

That wasn’t a childish way of thinking.

Therefore, I visited a counselor.

The counselor had a wary smile on his face because of my insistence on having regular sessions during my stay here.

I wasn’t having any trouble thanks to my counselor.

Because of their rationality and management skills, my diagnosis and treatments were as accurate as possible.

However, since I tried to process everything as rationally and positively as possible, I was told to act with caution because I might not recognize when I’d pushed myself too far.

I wasn’t irrational or emotional though.

The way doctors interacted with me changed as a result of the counseling.

They explained things to me as an adult.

Of course, there were times when the language was too technical for me to understand, 『This is the situation. This is our objective. For that reason, we will be doing this.』in those cases, they would provide a generalized explanation.

For children, the explanation usually began and ended with 『This is what we’re doing』.

If you just agreed with that explanation, then you’d be seen as an easy-to-handle child.

When I didn’t understand something, I thoroughly researched it.

There was an abundance of morning activities to do during my stay at the hospital.

Blood was collected twice a week, an hour before my usual wake-up time.

My blood pressure and oxygen saturation were measured at the same time.

At my usual wake-up time, I got dressed and ate breakfast.

My weight was measured once a week.

Of course, my weight was strictly confidential information.

It was a maiden’s secret.

Only after finishing my breakfast, does my day truly begin.

Depending on the schedule, I’d have a day full of examinations or treatments.

Everything besides basic rehabilitation practice was done in specialized rooms.

I usually aim for time slots when the rehab rooms were mostly empty.

That was because I didn’t want my presence to stress out the other patients.

Also, I didn’t walk around with black-suited bodyguards either.

As a result, I was basically within my own little world when I did my rehabilitation exercises.

“Yes, what shall I do today?”

Today was a rehab day.

I began by stretching my right leg until I started sweating.

The most useful measurement of the strain each session placed on my body was how sweaty I became.

It seems that excessive sweating wasn’t a good thing for someone undergoing rehab.

“Yes. I understand.”

With my stretches done, I took a single deep breath.

To keep my heart rate constant and because I was told to pay attention to my breathing, abdominal breathing exercises were included in my rehabilitation.

Inhale deeply, exhale slowly.

My heart rate leveled out, and my sweating began to slow.

I have been taught to inhale without exhaling and to exhale without inhaling.

The psychical therapist jokingly said that the breathing exercises had beneficial dietary effects.

Well, it was good advice! I’d use it sometime!!

“Isn’t today’s regime a bit much? I’ll work up quite the sweat.”

Even if I wiped it off with a towel, the doctors would notice the sweat across my brow.

There was also a new stretch today.

It was meant to build muscles around the hip joint by slowly rotating my legs.

Because I didn’t have a muscle fetish, I didn’t know what that particular muscle was called.

Still, it was refreshing to do muscle training.

“I see. My leg is starting to ache a bit more than usual.”

“Is that so? Then, you should take a break. Would you like to return by wheelchair?”

“I’ll walk. The doctors say that walking is the best therapy. Even if it’s slowly, I can walk on my own.”

I disliked wheelchairs.

The combination of linoleum floors and wheelchairs made me anxious.

Therefore, I firmly declined the offer.

Besides, the number of wheelchairs was limited.

If I took the wheelchair now, a person in actual need if of it wouldn’t have it later.

“I understand. We shall respect Sagara-san’s decision. However, at least use some crutches. You do need to allow your right leg to rest.”

“I’ll do as you say, Doctor.”

I nodded my head and accepted the compromise.

There was no point in being stubborn.

“Then, please wait for a little.”

“Yes.”

While my doctor fetched a set of crutches, I wiped myself off down with a towel and glanced at the scenery outside the window.

This building called a hospital had quite a few rest areas scattered about the place.

It was a small private hospital, so that was to be expected, but its waiting room was larger than those you found in large general hospitals.

There were many receptionist counters: the counters for first time visitors and examinations were separated, and there were also a number of consultation counters, a payment counter and a counter to pick up prescriptions.

Roughly one hundred people could be seated on the various sofas in the waiting room.

A considerable number of sofas were placed at each consultation counter.

There were also two sofas within proximity of the toilets.

There were other chairs for the attendants wait at as well.

In the rehabilitation rooms, the back walls were filled with over-sized sofas.

It was a place for people to rest after they completed their treatment.

Other than the sofas, there were windowsills that had been expanded into seat-like ledges for the patients.

The room’s setup allowed for inpatients and outpatients to attend rehab with peace of mind.

To get to the hospital rooms, you need to take the private elevator in the lobby.

The rehabilitation room was the farthest away from the receptionist desk.

I’d be quite the walk before I reached my room.

If it weren’t for the various rest stops along the way, I would’ve obediently taken the wheelchair when it had been offered.

Because I could rest when needed, I chose to walk.

While using crutches, I walked at a leisurely pace.

In the case of emergencies, a doctor or nurse always accompanies patients undergoing rehabilitation.

They insured that the patients safely made it to their rooms.

It was something that any hospital would do for someone undergoing rehabilitation.

They would never tell a patient to hurry up.

That’s why it was so easy to walk with them.

“Huh?”

As we entered the lobby, the doctor behind me suddenly made a strange expression.

“Sagara-san, is that person an acquaintance of yours?”

When asked the question, I caught sight of a woman holding a bouquet and small basket who seemed to be looking for someone.

The woman seemed to have realized something before she walked up to the hospitalized patient receptionist.

“N-no. Why do you think so?”

I knew that woman.

But that wasn’t important here.

After finishing her conversation with the receptionist, the woman respectfully bowed to them before turning to the elevator.

She saw me the moment she started walking.

“Ara, what a surprise.”

The woman uttered that slightly confused comment as she stared at me.

“Are you Sagara Mizuki?”

“Yes, I am. And you are?”

I only asked her name out of courtesy.

It was impossible for me not to know her name.

I knew of her, but this was the first time we’ve met.

“Forgive me, my name is Fujiwara Umeko.”

Umeko smile as she told me so, but I was utterly lost as to what was happening.