God, my legs also needed some attention with a razor.

“You ready.”She asked.

Nodding, I moved my legs off the side of the bed. With one nurse on each side, both getting me under my arms. I slide off the bed a couple inches. Until my foot landed on the floor.

I was able to stand leaning on the bed. Bending my legs slightly. I stood on my own. My knees buckled a little but I was able to recover. Standing up fully. I attempted to take a step. Both legs crumpled under me. Luckily the nurses were there to catch me.

They leaned me back against the bed again.

“Get a wheelchair. I will take her down to therapy. So they can get her up and moving.”

Shortly the nurse came with a wheelchair. I was able to turn and sit on my own. I lifted my feet onto the pads. And away we went. God everything was so different. Not seeing anything for three years. I was wheeled down a couple halls to an elevator.

Going down several floors. One of the halls just out side of physical therapy was a larger window over looking the gulf.

“I can never get used to that view. It is always so beautiful.” The nurse agreed with me.

Once inside therapy. I got the work out I so needed. By the time I was finished I was able to walk some. As long as I had help. The parallel bars worked great for that. After about 45 minutes. I was told to quit for the day. I didn't want to but I was out voted.

Once I was pushed in the hall. Zoey was waiting there for me.

“Mommy” She called. “Aunt Whitney told me you where here and that I could wait outside for you.”

“She knew I wanted to see my girl. I missed you, sweetie.”

“I missed you to Mom. I can't wait till you are home again.” She said as she walked along side the wheelchair holding my hand.

Once back to my room, the nurse helped me use the bathroom. Then Zoey and the nurse helped me back into bed. Which was freshly changed and my room cleaned while I was gone. Zoey laid down right next to me, just like she did when she was little. She is not so little now. Zoey is very beautiful young lady, 4'11" athletic figure. Dark brown hair, blue eyes. She hasn't said anything about a boyfriend.

I wonder. “So, have you gotten a boyfriend yet?”

“Mom, don't you remember I told you. I like girls. I'm a lesbian.” Zoey answered.

It then clicked in my mind. She came out about a year after her dad got killed. “I am sorry I forgot. What ever happened had an effect on my memory.”

“That is OK, MOM. Aunt Whitney actually told me you may have memory issues. Once you came out of the coma. Before you ask. Yes I do have a girlfriend.”

“Why don't you tell me about her. If you would like.”

Shyly She told me. “her name is Brittney. She is also 4'11, blond, blue eyes. We met the first day of high school. We hit it off. We love each other.”

“Honey, that is all me and your dad always wanted for you to be happy.”

Smiling, “Thanks mom. I wish daddy was here. I miss him.”

“I do too, Zoey. I do too.”

My daughter stayed until visiting hours where over. She had rode her bike from Cassie's house. It wasn't far. Plus the base had bike paths all over. So she barely was near traffic.

For dinner, it was still liquid but Whitney had OKed some coffee. Decaf but beggars can't be choosers. It was great. Soon as I finished. I got back to work on moving. Even though I was sore from this morning at therapy. I still worked my arms and legs. Being I didn't work my core. It was tight again, popping when I got to a point when I twisted. It however did feel good.

Again I was in the middle of twisting when Whitney came in.A loud POP went my back. “Ahhhhhh”

“What are you getting a heads up when I am coming and pop your back.”

“How'd you guess. I got spy's everywhere.” I said is a creepy voice.

“You would.” She acknowledged. “Well I got good news.”

“I am going to get out of this chicken shit outfit.”

“Not hardly. Physical Therapy reports you having a great treatment. Above par. Keep it up and you will be back to your 3 mile run in no time. It could be as early as next week.”

“Thanks Warden.” I smiled.

She did her checks, Moving my arms and legs. Making notes on a pad. “Everything is looking great. I agree with PT. You are doing great.

The next day I actually got real food. Physical therapy along with the even bars. They brought weights into the fix. Working both my legs and arms, light loads at first. Then increasing the weight everyday. 3 days after I woke from my coma. I was walking on my own. With a walker though. By the 5th day I was walking totally on my own.

The weights slowly increased, also by the 5th day I was leg lifting 120#s. More than my body weight. My arms at 75. Sunday broke into some faster walking on the treadmill. By Tuesday I was moving like my old self. Still couldn't put my palms on the floor. Then Whitney reminded me, I never could.

I told her a girl can dream can't she. I was finally given the all clear to have a regular diet. The menu was fairly decent. Being I am a pilot I get real meat not soy. As soy can mess with your body. I was able to move about freely using the latrine, even taking a shower. Which was fantastic to finally able to do, and shave.

That Thursday I got paroled. Whitney came in just after Breakfast and said. “Well baby face, your pardon came though.”

“You mean I can get out of here.” I happily said.

“I called Cassie. She will be here to take you home around 3.”

“Why so long?”

“You know the government the paperwork needs to be filed. The T's dotted and I's crossed.

I did have an therapy appointment that day. With everything working as it should. I had follow up appointments for the next month.

Whitney showed up at about 1:30 go over some precautions. Which there where hardly a one. Do my therapy appointments.

I had to ask. “OK, Dr. What about my flight status?”

“That is on hold for now. Let's let you get up to speed again. Remember you are 3 years behind the times. The ops officer is leaving the 4th SOS. So, you will be replacing him for at least a little bit. Don't worry,Brie. I'll get you back in a flight suit soon enough.”

“And back in the pilot's seat?”