Laurie shook her head at the question of sugar or milk; she drank her coffee like she was doing penance, black and bitter and strong and sour. Her fingers wrapped around it carefully; she had good use of them, they were just stiff and not as graceful as they'd once been.
"They signed me up for physical therapy back in Haddonfield but I wasn't there long enough to really take advantage of it... they did give me some meds for the scars though. And sleeping pills." She said that last almost in a rush; she knew some doctors frowned on sleep aids and tried to wean their patients from them entirely. Laurie had tried sleeping sober; she'd tried it the other night, actually, and had woken from her nap screaming bloody murder and crying. "I put on Renova cream for the scars, and, um, the doctor... Doctor Williams back in Haddonfield, she had mentioned maybe doing steroid injections into the one on my face to try and get it to heal," she murmured, fidgeting with the coffee mug. Her scars were clearly a source of concern for her; she was seventeen and looked like a Frankenstein monster.
"They don't... they said my hands would kind of always look like this, the scars and stuff are from where they put the pins in," she said, glancing down at the gloved appendages. "This boy on my hall, Tristan---" better not say 'boyfriend', unless you want them to separate you guys, her mind reminded her, "he's a pianist, and he let me sit with my hands over his while he played... sort of... feeling it out."