“Its starting,” Suzy, one of the LPNs there, said.
“What’s starting?” Kamry asked.
“She has an aneurysm that is inoperable.”
“Oh, no.” Kamry turned, looking to where Ms. Maybelle now played with the four cards she had chosen.
“She doesn’t know. She has pain medication that she can ask for, but it’s obvious she isn’t going to, so I will call and get them scheduled.”
“Thank you.”
Kamry turned, walking back to Ms. Maybelle and kissing her head before going on to the next resident of the day.
Kamry arrived at the gym shortly after six. She changed into her workout clothing and stepped up to the bag. The place was unusually empty, but she didn’t mind. She preferred it this way, because there were less people staring at her.
She stretched her legs and then her arms. She didn’t know a lot about working out and learning to fight, but stretching was right up her alley.
“Hey, you came back.”
Kamry jumped at the deep voice behind her. She quickly turned to see the same man that had approached her before. “Um, yeah.”
“So I was thinking, show me how you handle the bag and then I can help you with the technique. Then I thought maybe you would want to do some self defense on the floor. I’ve never had a need to learn to fight for the same reason as you, but I do know that when I am in the ring with my back flat against the mat, ju ju comes in handy.”
“Ju ju?”
He smiled. “Jujitsu.”
“Oh. Thanks, I think. I’m Kamry.” She held out her hand.
“Jose, nice to meet you,” he replied, shaking her hand.
That explained why he looked so tough then. She assumed when he said ring, he meant MMA. His body was definitely in shape, at least six foot one, maybe two or three. He was rather large, for sure. Probably weighing in at one-ninety or so. She didn’t know much about MMA, only what she had heard the guys in the gym talking about.
He walked to the back of the bag and gripped it. “Well, shall we?”
“Don’t laugh at me and don’t make fun of me. I appreciate your help or any advice you can give me, but I won’t be laughed at.”
She watched his face turn serious as he let go of the bag and stood in front of her. He brushed a strand of hair from her face and locked eyes with her. “Everyone was a white belt at one point or another. I would never laugh at you.”
She nodded.
He walked back to the bag and she began alternating kicks and punches. When she was finished, she waited for him to begin criticizing her every move.
“That was pretty good. My only thing is this...” He come to stand behind her, and then his breath was in her ear. “Don’t knock me out.” He placed his hands on her hips, pivoting them slightly. “When you kick, rotate just a bit like this. Go with the flow.” He reached out and gripped her hands. “Make a fist.” She did. He gripped her wrist, pointing to the ring finger and pinky. “These knuckles here, you can fracture them easily.”
“Yes, a boxer’s fracture.”
“Exactly, so you want to make sure you are hitting with these two digits.”
“Gotcha.” She knew about boxer fractures. She just never really thought about the possibility of punching wrong and so had never paid attention to it.
“Okay, let’s hit the floor mats.”
She followed him to a set of mats.
“Lay on your back.”
“What?”
He smiled and then lay down in the position he wanted her in. “Like this.” Then he stood and waited for her. He had laid flat on his back, knees bent and feet flat on the mat.
She took a deep breath and then as she started to lay down, her body began to grow nervous, trembling. Tears began to pour from her eyes. Sweat broke from her skin to a point that it was like a water hose on a slow drip, just drizzling down her body. The feeling of pins and needles came across her body briefly before she felt numb, almost paralytic.
The room began spinning and then the earth around her followed.
She could feel the weight of Steven laying on top of her. All the control she felt she had in her life now was rapidly disappearing. Suddenly, all she could feel was the overwhelming need to get away. She needed to escape and run for her life.
The next thing she knew, Jose was sitting next to her with the palm resting in his as he used the thumb of his other hand to massage it.
She locked eyes with him and in that moment that she stared into his…it was as if she had just stared into his soul. There was something inside her telling her to breathe with him. She watched his shoulders move up and down in an exaggerated way. He was breathing slowly and deeply just so she could see his pattern and catch on to the rhythm.
Slowly, the nervousness began to fade. The trembling was no longer noticeable. The tears dried from her eyes. The sweat was a glisten on her skin instead of a fountain. Her feet seemed to be okay with sitting still instead of running. She began feeling her limbs come back to her and with that, the control as well.
She knew that she should have felt embarrassed for the reasonless panic attack, but then, most people who suffer from them seldom know the trigger for their attacks. They come on so sudden that most just deal with it the best way they can and move on.
Before long, she could feel herself wanting to smile and she did. “Thank you. I don’t know how you knew or how you managed to help without even saying a word, but I sincerely can’t thank you enough.”
“My mother used to suffer from panic attacks. It’s no big deal. I learned early on to give the person who is in the middle of losing their minds, or so they feel, every ounce of control I can and mainly something to focus on other than what is running through their bodies.”
“It’s a nice trick. One that I should remember.”
“Do you have them often?”
“No.”
“Can you share with me what you think might have triggered it? You don’t have to; I would just like to avoid that if I can.”
She took a deep breath and went to move her hand from his, but his grip tightened and he slowly and very calmly shook his head as he continued to massage her.
“Steven used to do most of the damage when he had me pinned to the floor.”
“I see. Shall we work on that?”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“Sure you can. You just have to make a choice, right here, right now. Do you want to be a survivor or a victim? The choice is yours.”
“I’m a survivor.”
“Not yet, but you can be.”
She didn’t have to ask him what he meant by that. She knew. If she was a survivor, she needed to overcome her fears and put every single ounce of effort into moving on and forgetting him all together.
Jose smiled as she returned to her position on the mat and moved to lay down next to her. “I just want you to look up at the ceiling for a moment. When you are ready, close your eyes and take a deep breath several times.”
“Okay,” she replied, concentrating on one single stain on the ceiling where it was apparent there was a leak. When she was ready, she closed her eyes.
“Keep breathing, relaxing, and keep telling yourself that I am here to help you. I will not hurt you. I am going to show you how to kick a man’s ass so you never have to fear abuse again.”
After several minutes, she was ready to go. She opened her eyes and turned to look at him. He was staring up to the ceiling, patiently giving her the time she needed.
“I’m ready.” She smiled.
“Good.” He moved slowly and explained every last thing before he even touched her. The few minutes he was supposed to spend with her had turned into an hour before it was over. He continued to attempt to control her from the top and with his instruction that she followed so well, she was able to break away from him with ease before he smiled and collapsed to the mat beside her.