Full Throttle

004

Ajax woke up to a ceiling he couldn’t recognize and a body that didn’t feel like his.

He tried sitting up but three things stopped him at once—a neck brace held his head, a pain shot into his ribs and his legs barely moved an inch.

“Hmph.” He winced in excruciating pain and stared down at his legs. A white cast was wrapped heavily around both of them it looked like a theatrical prop.

“Come on, let’s go.” He tried moving them again but they didn’t even tilt sideways.

What the hell? Why the f**k can’t I feel my legs? Ajax’s breath quickened trying to understand what was happening to him and the pains at his ribs intensified every time he breathed.

His weary green eyes traced an IV needle taped to the back of his hand. He turned his head to the drip stand to his left but the neck brace wouldn’t let him rotate his head.

The window blinds were closed and he couldn’t even make out what time of day it was outside.

In less than a minute, a nurse walked into the room and saw him awake, “Oooh, you’re awake!” She ran out and soon after Marco and a doctor arrived.

“Ajax.” Marco came closer and sat at the edge of the hospital bed. “How do you feel?” He asked, his grey eyes sunken with worry.

Ajax ignored his questions and looked behind him to the doctor. “W—why can’t I feel my legs?” His voice cracked.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Carver. My names Dr. Fabian Cross," he said. "I performed your surgery after the crash. How's your pain level?"

Crash?

The accident poured into his mind like a hurricane and Ajax clenched the bedsheets tight.

"Mr. Carver, on a scale of one to ten, what’s your pain level?" The doctor tried to assess him again.

"I’m not in any pain." Ajax lied through his teeth. His pain score was a severe eight as the striking ache at his ribs kept him from breathing properly.

Dr. Fabian shook his head and wrote on his tablet. "I'm going to walk you through what we're dealing with. Please, indicate if you need me to repeat anything."

Ajax remained silent and listened attentively to each word that came out of the doctor’s mouth.

"You suffered three fractured ribs on the right side. They'll heal without surgical intervention but it will make the next six to eight weeks uncomfortable. Any sudden movement, anything that stresses the torso will worsen the pain. There's nothing to do but let time pass."

Marco rubbed his face and muttered. “Dio mio (My God).”

"Your forearm…” Dr. Fabian turned his tablet and showed him the initial image taken after the crash.

Ajax glanced at it and then looked away as underneath the bandage was a forearm he couldn’t recognize anymore.

"You have second-degree burns. We've done some treatment and should be receiving a grafting review in the next 48 hours. However, scarring is probable and proper function may return with rehabilitation."

"And what about my legs?" Ajax asked.

He didn't want to hear about his right forearm. He had a left forearm didn’t he? He didn't care about his ribs either, he wanted to know why he couldn’t move or feel his legs.

Dr. Fabian looked at him steadily. "Your legs…" He turned to the next scan but Ajax didn’t look at it.

"The impact caused serious nerve damage to your lower limbs. We managed to stabilize the fractures during surgery, but your nerve repair is something we can’t rush as nerve tissues heal on their own."

"How long will it take?" Marco asked before Ajax.

"The honest answer is we won't know the extent of damage for at least three months. Some patients see return of function early. Others don’t walk for a full month and we don't know which category you're in yet."

“I mean how long would it take me to race?!" Ajax struggled to sit up. "Not to walk but to race!"

Dr. Fabian held his gaze. "On best-case, it will take a minimum of six months intensive physiotherapy."

The room went silent and even the monitor seemed to stopped beeping.

"Six months?" Ajax repeated. His race car, his fans, his name on the pit wall would have someone else's name on it.

"At minimum." Dr. Fabian added.

"And if the nerve damage doesn't heal the way we hope?" Marco’s gaze lingered on Ajax’s cast.

Dr. Fabian looked at Ajax and paused long enough to hint bad news was coming. "If recovery doesn’t happen after six months, then Mr. Carver will be confined to a wheelchair until further evaluation."

Trapped to a wheelchair?

The room went quiet again and Ajax looked at the IV needle taped to the back of his hand then pulled it out.

"No," Marco stopped him as the drip needle pooled blood on the bedsheet.

“Mr. Carver.” Dr. Fabian rushed over to his bedside and reached for him. “Please, stop this.”

“Don’t f*****g touch me!” Ajax barked at him and Dr. Fabian politely took a step back. "I'm not lying in this goddamn bed!" He tossed the blanket off his body.

"Ajax—" Marco seized his left wrist.

"I'm not lying in this bed for six months, Marco. I'm not doing it." Ajax pushed himself to the edge of the bed and tried to swing his legs over the side.

"Stop." Marco grabbed his shoulders upright and held him from falling. "You’ve fractured your ribs and damaged your nerves, you can’t walk."

"Don't tell me what I can't do!" Ajax gripped the railing. "I can’t be useless for a full season, Marco. Do you understand what that means?"

"Of course, I understand."

"They're going to put someone else in my seat and act like it's temporary but after six months nobody will remember whose name was on it first!"

"Ajax, stop. You’ll tear your muscles."

"Then let me tear it!" He shoved Marco's hand off his shoulder. "What exactly am I preserving it for?! To lie here and watch my career go to someone else?!"

"You’re preserving it so you get back on the track." Marco put his hands back on both sides of Ajax's shoulders. "Listen to me for once and stop being stubborn.”

"Get your hands off me!"

"I will not."

Ajax struggled to break free and his ribs stretched violently. “f**k!” His grip on the railing went white-knuckled and his body fought against him.

"I've got you," Marco said, keeping his best friend from dropping to the floor. "It’s okay, I've got you." He whispered.

Ajax knew his leg couldn’t hold him anymore and he shamefully grabbed Marco's sleeve and held on even if his pride scorned at him.

The two of them stayed there at the edge of the bed in an ungraceful standoff while the IV dripped onto the floor.

“I can’t lose everything, Marco.” His withered lips trembled in fear.

“You won’t.” Marco said. “I swear it.”

A nurse peeked through in the doorway and read the room. “Uhm—”

"He's fine," Marco said to her, without looking away from Ajax. "Please, give us a minute."

The nurse hesitated, then turned around to leave but the door flew open again and Ajax’s mother strolled into the room like she owned the air.

"You will sit back properly or I will make you sit myself.”