As I make my way over to my uncle’s room, I see a ton of familiar faces. However, only a few of the people I thought to be my friend stop to chat. Even then though, the moment is short lived, just like with Jim. I know they’re probably just uncomfortable around me because they know what’s happened. They were used to the old me, not some invalid in a wheelchair. But that’s okay, I know everything will be back to normal soon. I just have to be patient. Once everyone sees that I haven’t changed, then they’ll be okay.

I quickly reach my uncle’s door and knock.

“Come in.” He says from the other side.

I smile and fling the door open. “Uncle Ron!”

He looks up from a pile of paperwork. “Zane?”

I rush over to his desk. “Longtime no see!”

He stands up and comes around to give me a handshake. “I’m glad to see you moving around! Your mother said the therapy is going well.”

“Yeah, as well as can be I guess. The good news is that they say I can return to work! So, I thought I’d stop by and see you. I can’t wait to be back in the office.”

My uncle suddenly pales. “Ah, well, Zane…there is a slight problem with that.”

I frown. “What?”

He sighs. “Well, after you left I had to promote Jim and give him your job. He’s the chief editor now.”

“Wait…you, you gave my job away?” I whisper.

“I’m sorry Zane, but I had to. Can’t run the office without a chief editor!”

I shake my head. “Okay, I get it. My job is taken. What else is open? I’ll do anything!”

I watch as my uncle takes a moment to sit on the edge of his desk and face me. “Look, I know you’re probably anxious to get out of the house and live by your own terms, but I can’t hire you like this.”

“What do you mean you can’t hire me? Because I’m suddenly in a wheelchair? That’s discrimination!” I shout.

He snorts. “No, not because you’re in a wheelchair. You don’t live close by anymore Zane. How are you going to make it to work on time every day with a two hour commute?”

I scowl. “Don’t worry about that! I’m planning to move back here and rent another apartment. I will take me half an hour to get here every morning, tops.”

“How are you going to get approved for an apartment in a city like this? Most building are five or six stories high, and few of them have elevators. Besides, how are you going to get by without any help? Your mom says you barely clean your room as it is.”

“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about!” I hiss. “Look, I’m not a child. I can do just fine without my parents’ sympathy. Just give me a job and I’ll prove it!”

My uncle shakes his head. “How about you get an apartment that fits, move in, and prove living alone won’t be too hard. Then we can talk.”

“And how am I supposed to get a place to live without any income!?” I snap.

He shrugs. “How am I supposed to trust an employee who can’t take care of himself?”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “So, just because my legs are useless, you think I can’t do the same job I’ve had for five years?”

“Look Zane, you have to be reasonable here. Your recovery is far from complete. You need to take it easy and learn to adjust. You may think coming back here will make everything better again, but it won’t. We work a tight schedule with a lot of overtime. Can you work with that, given the extra time commuting will take? Do you even know if the subway runs late at night, or what stops the local bus makes? What about working through deadlines and staying for our fast-paced weekends? Can you keep up like you did before?”

I try to respond, but words seem to fail me.

“Face it Zane, you’re not ready for this yet.”

I hate to admit it, but he’s right. “What am I…supposed to do? I just, I can’t…”

My uncle stands up to give me a gentle hug. “I’m sorry, but there isn’t much I can do. Take my advice though, focus on therapy and taking smaller steps. Don’t rush this, there’s no need. Recovery and adjustment takes time.”

I don’t know what else to say, so I nod. Then I back myself away from him. “I think I should go.”

“Look Zane, come by and visit as often as you like. If you want, I can hire you as an occasional contractor and give you small jobs to take on here and there.”

“Okay, cool. I’ll, I’ll be in touch…”

And with that, I turn my chair around and leave. As I make my way through the office, less people stop to seek me out. Even Jim is too busy to offer more than a measly wave. I get into the elevator alone, make my way down, and leave the building slowly.

I’m not ready for this job, and I may never be again. As it turns out, becoming disabled didn’t just take my legs or my girlfriend. It took everything that I was. My entire identity. Nothing would ever be the same again.