When I awakened, I found myself in a white, high-ceilinged room. I was lying in a narrow bed that had rails on the sides. It wasn't long before I realized that I was in the hospital. A short, black-haired nurse with snapping, dark eyes was peering down at me, a look of concern on her face.

"You're in the hospital", the nurse said softly. "You were in an accident, but we are gonna' take good care of  y'all." She spoke with a Cajun accent that I found comforting. "The doctor will be in shortly to discuss further what happened to y'all. My name is Louisiana Sandusky; I'll be your nurse for the day."

The doctor came shortly after Louisiana had stopped speaking. He was mean looking; he had a scowl on his face; his expression terrified me. He spoke with a grim tone to his voice.

"Katrina", the doctor intoned, "My name is Dr. Stryker. I am a neurosurgeon; I specialize in diseases or injuries involving the brain, nervous system, or spinal cord. You suffered a devastating injury to your lower, or lumbar, region of your spinal region; I'm afraid that the news isn't good. Your injuries were quite serious. You'll probably never walk; you'll be paralyzed for the rest of your life, paralyzed from the waist on down."

"P-P-Paralyzed?" I managed to squeak out. My voice, to my surprise, seemed ragged, hoarse. The doctor nodded. At the news, I began to cry. I called for Frank. I was happy to know that he was in the room with me; but I was devastated by the horrendous news Dr. Stryker had just delivered. I was to be a cripple, a person dependent on a wheelchair for mobility. If I ever did walk again (which seemed highly doubtful), I'd need a walker or crutches. It was worse, much worse, than I'd imagined.

~End of part two.~