Chapter 28DD - Hawke's Rehab

[Captain Hawke]

I try to get out of bed and promptly start to fall on the floor. "Hold on there Captain!! We'll get a chair for you." Doctor Brahms says. The wheelchair comes and she wheels me to the Rehab Center. I see numerous devices there. A couple of treadmills, a weight bench, stationary bicyles, among other things... "Ok Captain, let's start with the basics..."
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After several centars of diagnostics, the doctor finds my reflexes have diminished 60%, walking ability 40%, speech ability 30%, sight ability 50%, motor control functions 66%..
Doctor Brahms told me the news. "I have some more bad news for you. It's bad.... even with all the rehabilitation in the fleet, I can't in good conscience allow you to get back into aviper cockpit. Your motor skills combined with your reflexes just aren't there anymore. I'm sorry. It will be my official recomendation to Commander Sheba that you be discharged from the Colonial Service on a disability hardship discharge. I'm sorry Hawke. There's no other way." Tears started streaming down my face. No more military? How can that be? The military is everything to me!!!! Forced retirement??? It wasn't fair!!! "Take....me....back...to....my...room...please..." I manage to say through the tears....

[Captain Hawke]

I arrive at my room and get back into bed... "There you go Hawke.... Nice & cozy.. Can I get you anything?" Doctor Brahms asks... "Just....get....out...." I say. "Look Hawke...." "NOW....Doctor.." I manage to say. She leaves.
I mull over forced retirement.. If I can't be in the Colonial military...... No, don't think that way. It's not your style!!! "IT'S......NOT.......FAIR.....DAMMIT!!!!" I yell out to nobody in particular... I break down and cry into my pillow...

[Captain Hawke]

I mindlessly do my rehab. Walking,speech therapy,motor functions. The whole gambit. I mull over my career. So many lives saved. So many Cylons died. I can't even write a book about my career because it's all classified. What occupation am I going to be doing? All I am qualified to do is be a Colonial Warrior.
After dozens of rehab sessions,i had reached the end of them and the doctor told me that I need to walk with a cane for the rest of my life and I'd still speak slowly. My eyesight had improved 10% and my motor skills had improved 5%. Still not enough for Warrior service. I need to talk to Sheba. i put in for a request to see her as her time permits.

[Captain Hawke]

The doctor tells me there is nothing more I can do for rehab. She notifies me that I have my old quarters back. She gives me a regular daily regiment to keep my muscles working. An orderly helps me pack my personal belongings and I move back into my quarters. I vaguely remember something happening here. But the memory fades as soon as it's formed. I sigh to myself and try to catch up on the events of the fleet on IFB. I turn on the monitor and there's so much interference that it's unwatchable. I immediately get mad and throw an object through it. I settle in my chair and start fuming.

[Captain Hawke]

I think to myself this situation is pure unadulterated felgercarb!!! I need to get out of here. I'm starting to get claustrophobic.. I get up and go out into the corridor. I feel like I'm an outsider looking in. I walk/limp to the O'Club and order an ambrosia. Maybe I could make a career out of being a drunk.... As I sit at an empty table, I notice alot of looks and whispers from some of the other warriors. Whispers about being "a cripple, a Cylon spy, worthless piece of flesh." I listen to them halfheartedly and drink my drink quietly.