My hands are shaking uncontrollably. No, my whole body is shaking. I raise my hand to the automatic soap dispenser and wash my hands but I never get the chance to dry them off before what is going on hits me full force. I break down in a blubbering mess, pressing my hands against the edge of the counter. The physical pain is gone for now, but… maybe I’m just being paranoid. Yeah, that’s all it is. Paranoia. The pain is gone, so surely I’m all right.
I take a deep breath and then several more before raising my head from between my slouching shoulders and look at myself in the mirror. I lift one wet hand and wipe the sweat from my face and the leftover tears from my cheeks. I even feel better long enough to be grossed out when I realize I’m standing in a public restroom with bare feet.
The entrance door swings open and Natalie marches inside.
“Seriously, are you OK? No, I take that back, obviously you’re not, so what’s going on? I’m calling Andrew. Right now.” She starts to leave the restroom and go back into the front where her phone is, but I stop her.
“Nat, no, just wait.”
“Screw that,” she says. “I’m calling him in exactly sixty seconds, so you have less than that now to explain.”
I give in because as much as I wanted to let myself believe I’m OK, deep down I know I’m not. Especially after what I saw before I left the stall.
“I’ve been having back and side pain and I’m spotting.”
“Spotting?” She makes a slight disgusted face, but masks it well and is clearly more worried than disgusted. “You mean like… blood?” She looks at me in a suspicious sidelong glance and then holds it there until I answer.
“Yes.”
Without another word, the bathroom door swings shut behind her and she’s gone.
Now, there comes a time in a person’s life when you have to face something so horrible that you feel like you’ll never be the same person again. It’s like something dark swoops down from somewhere above and steals every shred of happiness you have ever felt and all you can do is watch it, feel it go, knowing that no matter what you do in your life that you’ll never be able to get it back. Everybody goes through this at least once. No one is immune. But what I fail to understand is how one person can go through it enough for five people and in such a short time.
*
I’m lying in an emergency room hospital bed curled up within a blanket. Natalie sits on the chair to my left. I can’t speak. I’m too scared.
“What the fuck is taking them so long?” Natalie says about the doctors. She stands up and begins to pace the room, her tall heels clicking softly against the bright white tile floor.
Then she changes her tune.
She stops and looks at me and says with a hopeful face, “Maybe since they’re taking their sweet time about checking you out, they don’t think it’s anything to worry about.”
I don’t believe that, but I can’t bring myself to say it out loud. This is only the second time I’ve ever been to an ER. My first time, when I nearly drowned after jumping off bluffs into the lake, it seemed I was in there for six hours. And that was mostly just to stitch up the gash I got on my hip from when I hit the rocks.
I roll over and lie on my side and stare at the wall. Just seconds after, the sliding glass door opens. I think it’s finally a doctor, but my heart skips a few beats when Andrew comes into the room. He and Natalie exchange a few low words that I pretend not to hear.
“They haven’t even been in here yet except to ask her a few questions and to give her a blanket.”
Andrew’s eyes fall on mine briefly, and I see the worry in his face even though he’s trying really hard not to be so obvious. He knows what’s happening as much as I do, but also like me, he’s not going to say it or let himself believe it until a doctor confirms it first.
They talk for a few seconds more and then Natalie comes over to the side of the bed and leans over to hug me.
“Only one person allowed in here with you at a time,” she says as she pulls away. “I’m going to sit out in the waiting area with Blake.” She forces a smile at me. “You’ll be alright. And if they don’t hurry up and do something, I’m going to raise some hell up in this bitch.”
I smile a little, too, thankful for Natalie’s ability to make that happen even in my darkest hour.
She stops at the door and whispers to Andrew, “Please let me know as soon as you do,” and then she slips out of the room, closing the glass door behind her.
My heart sinks when Andrew looks at me again, because this time I have his full attention. He pulls the empty chair over and sets it down next to my bed. He takes my hand and squeezes it gently.
“I know you feel like shit,” he says, “so I’m not going to ask.”
I try to smile, but I can’t.