Dana blinked sleepily and turned her head, straining to see the time.  Even though she had laid down for a “nap,” she had unexpectedly fallen asleep.  Glancing around room, she saw the wheelchair beside the bed.

Groaning, Dana covered her hands with her face.  God, I just wish I could wake up and see this was a bad dream.  Mr. Piddles looked up at her curiously upon hearing her, and then curled up and went back to sleep.

She sat numbly, staring at her wheelchair.  I could be stuck in that for the rest of my life.  The longer she stared, the more her anger began to build.  Anger at the man who put her here.  Anger at herself.  Anger at the world. 

With that anger came a rush of adrenaline.  Fine, if I have to live like this, I’m going to do something about it, Dana swore to herself, surprised at her own sudden determination.  I’m going to learn how to get in and out of this thing by myself.

The way Dana looked at it, the faster she learned to do certain things on her own and at least attempted to adjust, the faster she could get her house back to herself and get everyone out of her hair.

Dana took a deep breath and used her arms to pull herself to the edge of the bed.  Tiredly, she stopped to rest when she got there.  That was harder than it looked.   Steeling herself, she tried using only her arms to lift her body weight.  Her elbows buckled and she fell back to the bed.