Oh, as we were talking together about this, this story is so sad in tone yet so good!~

Lay on the bed, the outline of ceiling tiles etched into her vision.

Now that's a scene setter, and one that sets the reader for an incident our poor protagonist had inflicted on her.

They told her she was lucky. She didn't feel lucky, lay waiting for a nurse to sit her up.

Well there's our prompt word, movement, being exacted there and also the title in play here as well. Where she's basing her personal luck as unlucky because she couldn't move despite people thinking she was lucky to survive the life-damaging event. But truly, the last paragraph caps it off.

Her life felt over. It wasn't, she could still do so much. Just not by herself.

And this is where I think you mean by the title "Lucky" there. That despite not being able to independently move she can still live her life and still can do a whole lot as probably a handicapped person (though it would be annoying). Well I do hope her life will improve from there and probably helped by a good caretaker or by her lover or her friends~