Finally Discharged

The days began to blur together for Benjamin.

Each one felt the same, boring as the last, nurses checking his vitals, doctors administering treatments, the constant sound of machines beeping in the background.

Coach Jansen visited regularly, sitting in the same chair beside Benjamin's bed and offering words of encouragement.

The nurse, whose name he eventually learned was Diane, was different. She wasn't much older than Benjamin, probably in her early-twenties, with a calm demeanor that made him feel like he wasn't just another patient.

Her smile was soft, and her voice always gentle as she moved about the room, tending to his needs. She had a way of making the hospital room feel less suffocating, even if just for a moment.

"How's the pain today, Benjamin?" Diane asked one morning as she adjusted his IV.

He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the ceiling. "Same as always," he muttered.

Diane paused, her fingers brushing lightly over the edge of his cast. "It's been a few weeks now. Your body's healing, but it's going to take time. You know that, right?"

Benjamin clenched his jaw. He was tired of hearing that same word. Time. Everything was about time. Time to heal. Time to grieve. Time to get back to normal, whatever that meant.

"Yeah," he replied, his voice flat.

Diane didn't push him. Instead, she changed the subject, asking about football or chatting about her life outside the hospital.

She told him about her small apartment in Haarlem, her love for cycling through the nearby parks, and the quiet little café she frequented on her days off.

Benjamin appreciated those conversations, even if he didn't say much in return. It was a distraction from the pain, both physical and emotional.

Coach Jansen came in later that day, as he did almost every afternoon. He greeted Benjamin and sat down beside the bed, his large hands resting on his knees.

"How are you holding up?" the coach asked, his voice gruff but full of concern.

Benjamin didn't answer right away. He stared at his leg, wrapped tightly in the cast that still felt like a prison. "The doctors say I'm healing," he finally said, his tone devoid of any real emotion.

Coach Jansen studied him for a moment. "And how do you feel about that?"

Benjamin let out a bitter laugh. "I don't know, Coach. I feel like… like I'm stuck. Like no matter how much time passes, I'm not getting anywhere."

Coach Jansen leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "It's natural to feel that way. You've been through hell, Benjamin. No one expects you to bounce back right away."

Benjamin's throat tightened. "I just don't see how I can come back from this," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "My family's gone. Football… I don't even know if I'll ever play again."

Coach Jansen leaned forward, his blue eyes sharp but kind. "You don't have to figure it all out right now. One day at a time. Right now, you focus on healing. The rest will come later."

Benjamin wished he could believe that, but it felt like an impossible task. Healing his leg was one thing, but how could he heal the part of him that had been shattered in that car crash?

What was even the need of him coming back in time when he'd still lose those important to him? During the pass few days, he even had thoughts on committing suicide but couldn't bring himself to.

***

The days passed in a haze of treatments, checkups, and therapy sessions. Slowly, painfully, Benjamin started to regain some movement in his leg.

The cast was eventually removed, replaced by a brace, and he began the long process of learning to walk again with the aid of crutches.

The doctors warned him that it would be months before he could even think about putting weight on his leg without assistance. Each step was agonizing, both physically and mentally, but he forced himself to keep going.

Three months after the accident, Benjamin was finally discharged from the hospital. He could move about with crutches, albeit slowly and with great effort.

The doctors had done everything they could, and now it was up to him to continue his rehabilitation outside the walls of the hospital.

On the day of his discharge, Diane helped him pack up the few belongings he had in his room. She had become a constant presence during his stay, and in some ways, Benjamin had grown attached to her kindness, treating her like an elder sister.

"You've been a good patient," she teased lightly as she folded one of his shirts and placed it in his bag.

Benjamin smirked, shaking his head. "I'm pretty sure I've been a pain in the ass."

Diane laughed softly, the sound filling the room with a rare warmth. "Maybe a little," she admitted, "but you've also been through more than most people can handle. I think you're allowed to be a bit difficult."

As she finished packing, Benjamin felt a pang of sadness. He hadn't realized just how much he had come to rely on Diane's presence until now, when he was about to leave.

"Thank you," he said, his voice quiet but sincere. "For everything."

Diane smiled, her eyes soft. "You don't have to thank me, Benjamin. Just take care of yourself, okay? And don't give up on football."

He nodded, though the thought of returning to the pitch still felt far away. "I'll try."

When Coach Jansen arrived to pick him up, Benjamin said his goodbyes to Diane. She gave him a quick hug, careful not to jostle his crutches, and wished him luck.

As Benjamin and Coach Jansen made their way through the hospital's front doors, Benjamin paused just outside, taking a deep breath of fresh air. It felt strange, stepping outside for the first time in months.

The crispness of the autumn breeze filled his lungs, and for a brief moment, the weight on his chest lightened.

"Ready?" Coach Jansen asked, his voice cutting through the stillness.

Benjamin nodded, even though he wasn't sure if he was ready for anything anymore. But he didn't have a choice. Life was moving on, whether he was prepared or not.

With some difficulty, Coach Jansen helped Benjamin into the passenger seat of his car, carefully folding the crutches and placing them in the back.

As they drove through the streets of Haarlem, heading towards Benjamin's home in Leidsebuurt, he stared out the window, watching the familiar sights pass by.

"Benjamin," Coach Jansen said after a while, his eyes still focused on the road. "I know this has been… more than anyone should have to bear. But I want you to know, whatever happens, you're not alone. We'll figure it out. One step at a time."

Benjamin didn't respond right away. He didn't know how to. His thoughts were a tangled mess of grief, anger, and confusion.

But deep down, beneath all the pain and uncertainty, there was a small flicker of hope. It wasn't much, but maybe, just maybe, it was enough to keep him moving forward.

"I'll try," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Coach Jansen gave a small nod, his lips curling into a faint smile. "That's all I'm asking for."