“As of right now, no,” she said. “When we get into physical therapy, we can discuss options, but for leaving the hospital you must use the wheelchair.”
Poppy kissed his cheek, her brows furrowed nervously. "It'll be okay, Craw," she murmured, watching him anxiously.
She bit her lip, standing up next to him and folding her arms, feeling as if she had done something wrong. The doctor cleared her throat, bringing the wheelchair closer to him. "Ms. Abernathy, could you come here for a moment? I'm going to need you to brace his weight so he doesn't slip when we move him into the chair." She nodded, not meeting Francis' gaze, and came over and stood at the ready.
He got settled into the chair and the doctor beckoned to the handles. "You can push him, if you want..."
There was a twisting feeling in her stomach and she didn't say anything as they headed out to the car. The hospital provided one for them, one with a ramp in the passenger seat that Francis would be able to use to get into the van. Poppy was silent as she took the keys and the doctor began to work on loading him into the car.
