-Charlie-
I don’t understand why people care about the personal lives of professional athletes. Why do they care what goes on outside of the game? As long as the player is performing, there’s nothing else for them to know.

Yet, at some point, someone decided to idolize professional athletes and suddenly their personal lives became a public interest. Their parents, siblings, girlfriends, wives and children all became subject to the same scrutinization as their play. And for what? What’s the point of knowing every little detail about their lives away from the ice, field, or court?

In the couple of days since the falsified article ran, more people have sent me messages on my social media accounts than I can even count. It became such an issue that yesterday I had to just turn my phone off completely. I couldn’t do anything without getting a message from some random person who felt the need to comment about Sean and my life.

And somehow these people believe that they have the right to pass judgements on us. Sean is a horrible human being. He should be ashamed of himself for being such a dirty douche bag. And I’m a complete moron for still wanting to marry him after he practically emotionally abused that poor woman.

Fuck off.

You don’t know jack shit about this situation. You have no right to say these things to me about my future husband. You don’t know Sean enough for that. I’m sorry that I have more faith in my relationship than you have in yours. I’m sorry I know I can trust my fiancee. I’m sorry that we love each other more than anyone will ever love you. I know my Sean. I know the whole story, where you only know one side of it. The side that was completely falsified. So excuse me for standing by the love of my life when his character has come into question.

I really wish I could say that. But of course I can’t. I have to be civilized about it. So instead, I post a picture of my engagement ring on Instagram and leave my comment classy and truthful.

[i]“@SrACharlieC: Thank you to everyone who is willing to support me. But when Sean put this ring on my finger, he made a promise that he would love me and only me for the rest of our lives. That’s a promise I know he will always keep. I know my fiancee, and I know the truth behind this situation. Soon enough, you all will know the truth too. Until then, you will have to take my word on this. Sean is a wonderful man. The allegations against him are completely ridiculous, and anyone who knows him personally can attest to that. Thank you for understanding.”[/i]

Almost instantly I get dozens of comments. Some are softer and clearly these people believe me. But most are just the same: I’m crazy for standing behind a man like that.

I don’t really feel like dealing with this right now, so I send a quick text to Sean and leave my phone in my room as I leave for therapy. Christina gives me a sad look as she helps me up onto the treatment table.
“People just want drama in their lives.” She says. “Eventually they will realize how wrong they are, and things will go back to normal.”
“I just wish they would leave him alone, you know? He’s a good man.” I respond.
“Honey, I could see that the instant I saw you with him. He’s absolutely madly in love with you.” She says, smiling.
“And I’m absolutely madly in love with him.”

I begin doing the exercises just like the physical therapist showed me. Morning therapy is focused around my leg, and afternoon therapy is focused around my arm. They said that once I get my prosthetic, we will add an extra session dedicated just to walking. It’ll be shorter than the others, but it’ll be the most important. I can’t wait.

“Ah, Ms. Coleman. It’s nice to see you already working on your exercises.” My therapist John says, coming over to my table I’ve told him many times to call me Charlie, but he believes in being professional. Always Ms. or Mr. and a last name. “But I’m going to need you to hold off on the rest for now.”
“Why?” I ask.
“I have something special for you today.” He says with a smile. “Christina, when she’s done with this set, bring her into the private treatment room please.”
Christina nods and John walks away.
“Do you know what this is about?” I ask her.
“I have an idea, but I’m not completely sure. I’m not going to tell you, though, so don’t ask.” She laughs.

I finish the exercise I’m currently working on and Christina helps me back into my chair. She wheels me into the private room and helps me up on the table. Just as she’s folding up the chair, John comes in with Dr. Wells.

“Hello, Charlie!” Dr. Wells says.
“Hey, doc. What’s up?” I ask.
“Well, there’s a reason you were asked to wear shorts to today’s therapy. Are you ready for one of the most important days of your life?” He asks in return.
My heart skips a beat.
“It’s here?” I ask. He nods and a huge smile breaks out on my face. “Oh gosh. Yes! Bring it in!” He laughs and steps out of the room.
“Now Ms. Coleman, we’re going to show you how to put it on and the basics of how it works. We’ll stand you up and let you feel it out, but that’s it for today. After this, you’ll go back to what you’re scheduled to do in this session. We’ll start teaching you how to walk again tomorrow.” John says as Dr. Wells grabs a box from the hallway and sets it on the counter.
“Yeah, sure. Whatever you say.” I laugh. “I just want to put it on!”
They all laugh with me.
“Get your phone ready.” Dr. Wells says as he opens the box.
“I, um... I didn’t bring it with me.” I admit. He pauses and turns around to look at me.
“Do you want us to send someone to get it?” He asks.
I’m torn.
“No...” I start. “Things have just been so intense on social media and everything. I’m not going to post anything else right now.”
“Are you sure? You don’t have to post it now, but wouldn’t you like pictures of your reaction? Send them to your fiancee.”
Damn. He has a point.
“I could take them with my phone.” Christina suggests. “I’ll send them to you. That way we don’t have to wait.” I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Christina, that would be fantastic.” I say. She smiles and takes out her phone.
“All ready when you are, doc.” She says.

Dr. Wells reaches into the open box and pulls out a long velvet bag, about the size of a leg. My face contorts into a huge smile.
“I’m going to let you open the bag.” He says, placing it on the treatment table in front of me.
I reach down with shaky hands and undo the drawstring ties. I pull the opening apart and slide the velvet down.

The first thing I see is the plastic cup where my real leg will sit inside. There’s a thick spandex liner attached to it. The plastic tapers down to a metal hinge that will be my knee. From there, a long pole extends down to my “foot” which actually kinda looks like a real foot. Except it’s plastic. I blink a couple of times and realize that my eyes are filled with tears.

“You ready to learn how to put it on?” John asks.
“Yeah.” I manage, still somewhat in a daze.
Dr. Wells pulls out a smaller box and it contains a couple of things he explains I’ll need to put on underneath of the prosthetic.

The first thing is a thin sheath, like a sock.
“This will help keep friction to a minimum.” He explains.
I slide it onto my leg.
The second thing looks like a plastic tube.
“This helps with movement.” He says, showing me how to spray alcohol into it and roll it up my leg.
The third thing is basically a sock. He says it helps cushion my leg while it’s in the prosthetic, and balances out the forces. Often times people will end up with a couple of them on by the end of the day, depending on their activity level.

Finally he reaches for the prosthetic.
“It’ll help if you’re sitting on the edge of the table.” He says, and I scoot to where I’m doing as he said.
“Okay, this is the fun part.”
He shows me how to slide my leg into the cup, and it fits perfectly.
“Now roll the spandex liner up over your thigh.” He instructs.
I do, and I’m surprised at how well it holds the prosthetic on.
“This model is specially designed for people who lead a more active lifestyle. It lets you slip it on and go without having to worry about straps and buckles and all that nonsense.” He explains as I move around, feeling the weight of it. “It’s also designed to be light, so you can move around more easily.” It’s perfect.

“Are you ready to stand up?” John asks.
“Absolutely.” I say. He and Dr. Wells each take one of my arms, supporting me on either side.
“Put all your weight on your right leg first.” John says. “We’ll get you standing on that leg and then transfer your weight so you can get used to how it feels.”

Using my right leg, I do the exact same thing as I have been doing in therapy. Once I’m standing, John gives me the go-ahead to shift my weight, and suddenly I’m standing on two legs.

“By far one of the best days of my life.” I declare, tears of joy running down my face.

Notes

Woohoo!