[fanfic-drabbe] Thaw : Just My Luck
Title: Just My Luck
Day/Theme: Sept 2/None of a Kind
Series: Thaw
Character/Pairing: Dane
Rating: PG13 (swearing)
Why had I been so foolishly optimistic at the beginning? Sure, I'd known my situation had been bad. Not doing conditioning the entire summer had already fucked up the ski season, starting school in September would've brought along its own set of troubles, and Elise... Elise was a whole other set of problems, ones I would've dealt with later, when she'd finally started thinking straight and apologised.
A 75%1 chance of recovery had sounded good to me. But looking back, I don't know what the fuck I was thinking. A 75% on a test is a C. That's not an acceptable grade, so why had I considered it an acceptable recovery rate?
Hmph. Seventy-five percent. That would have made me a 'normal' case, if normal is a word that can be applied to GBS. And it's not like normal is word that could be applied to me, either.
Before this stupid disease I could ski better than anyone, a fact my parents so kindly hammered into me by sending me down here to Florida of all places. Best treatment facility my ass. I'm the closest thing they have to normal here; my fellow inmates would all fit in nicely with the Chronics. Am I really supposed to believe that the PTs here are better than the ones back in NY? I'm probably one of the few patients who has the mental capacity to move their body. The very least my parents could have done is put me in a facility that had seen snow since the last ice age.
But here I am. The special one. Brains, looks, athletic ability, Elise; then GBS and being in that that stupid, unlucky twenty-five percent.
1according to wiki, the recovery rate is 80%, but the books lists it as 75% so that's what I was going by.
Day/Theme: Sept 2/None of a Kind
Series: Thaw
Character/Pairing: Dane
Rating: PG13 (swearing)
Why had I been so foolishly optimistic at the beginning? Sure, I'd known my situation had been bad. Not doing conditioning the entire summer had already fucked up the ski season, starting school in September would've brought along its own set of troubles, and Elise... Elise was a whole other set of problems, ones I would've dealt with later, when she'd finally started thinking straight and apologised.
A 75%1 chance of recovery had sounded good to me. But looking back, I don't know what the fuck I was thinking. A 75% on a test is a C. That's not an acceptable grade, so why had I considered it an acceptable recovery rate?
Hmph. Seventy-five percent. That would have made me a 'normal' case, if normal is a word that can be applied to GBS. And it's not like normal is word that could be applied to me, either.
Before this stupid disease I could ski better than anyone, a fact my parents so kindly hammered into me by sending me down here to Florida of all places. Best treatment facility my ass. I'm the closest thing they have to normal here; my fellow inmates would all fit in nicely with the Chronics. Am I really supposed to believe that the PTs here are better than the ones back in NY? I'm probably one of the few patients who has the mental capacity to move their body. The very least my parents could have done is put me in a facility that had seen snow since the last ice age.
But here I am. The special one. Brains, looks, athletic ability, Elise; then GBS and being in that that stupid, unlucky twenty-five percent.
1according to wiki, the recovery rate is 80%, but the books lists it as 75% so that's what I was going by.