I am HER... (52 page)

 
Opening the door to the skinny closet, I see my clothes.  Yes!  There's my blacks.  All neatly hung up.  All beautiful.  God, I love black clothes.  They hide every nook and cranny, every cellulite bump, and any extra fat I own.  Black clothes can even make flabby arms seem toned.  Black clothes are awesome!
   With the catheter, there is really only one option.  Though it seems silly, what else can I do?  Sliding down to the floor, I grab my clothing and reach to untie my hideous green and white striped hospital gown.  Bye bye, baby.  I wish I could reach the garbage, or even a fire-pit.

 
Dressing as quickly as possible so no one sees my breasts naked, I slip on my clothing and finally exhale.  I don't have to worry about the rest of the gown until I stand up again, which should be in about 5 hours, give or take.  God, I’m so tired. I feel like sleeping right here, on the cold floor... my favorite.
   Inside the closet I notice Z's blanket again.  I'll use it for a pillow, just for a few minutes.  I need a little rest, and then I can make it back to my bed.  Placing the blanket under my head is remarkably comfortable.  The blanket even smells of Z, like I knew it would.  I hoped it would, and it does.  His cologne still lingers, and it's so wonderful, I can't help but breathe him in deeply.
   I'm going to leave the hospital with this blanket.  I'm going to wrap it tight in vacuum-sealed plastic, and open it every once in a while when I need a reminder of Z... NOT that I'm ever going to forget him.  But it'll be nice to have his scent to remind me of how good he was.  I'm so excited to steal this blanket when I leave, I squeeze it tightly and smile.
   Smiling, I know it's time to rest now.  I'm going to rest for a few minutes, get up, slowly make my way back to my bed and wait for Kayla to remove this gross catheter.  That’s my first plan- my first independent action.  I chose it, and I'm doing it- No pee-bag! GO ME!

                              
    ==========

   When I wake it is to the scent of Z.  He is all around me.  Oh!  His blanket.  I'm so glad I thought of it.  Now, it's mine to keep...
unlike
Z.
   "Can you open your eyes for me?"
   "Hi Mack," I smile.
   "What are you doing down here?  Did you fall?"
   "Nope.  I just needed a rest, and I love sleeping on cold floors.  The cold always feels good to me."
  "Would you allow me to help you stand?"
   "Yes, thank you.  Walking was a bit hard, and I'm not sure if I can get up again."
   "Here, let me help you."
   As Mack places his hands under my arms, he feels a little too close or something.  Closing my eyes I force myself to
not
panic.  Mack won't hurt me.  I know it, but I still don't like him touching me so close to my breasts.  Cringing, I just try to keep breathing until I'm back on my feet.
   Moments later, Mack is walking me back to the bed.  Leaning against his chest, with his arm
safely
around my shoulders, I'm okay now.  His hands aren't near my breasts, and he didn't grab me, or touch me bad or inappropriately.  Mack is safe.  I
know
that.  I just forget sometimes.
   Once I'm back at the bed, I see Mack hook the gross bag back on the side.  Ew!  He had to carry it.  This is so embarrassing.  I know I'm super red and I can barely breathe for the blush, as he helps me sit on the edge of the bed.  Gross.
  "Why are you upset right now?"
   "Um, I'm sorry you had to carry that bag.  Could you please, please get rid of it?  Please."
   "The bag is needed to..."
   "No!  The catheter.  I need it out.  I don't like it, and I don't need it obviously... I walked!"
   "I'll just have a nurse come and remove it for you, okay?"
   "Can't you do it?”
   "No.  This is more of a nurse’s job.  Just give me a minute."

 
I think he must be grossed out by me
down there
.  I know it's a bit messy and scarred but it still works fine.  Well, actually, I just learned it still works... Z taught me that it works.  But I'm still embarrassed that Mack thinks I'm too gross to look at.
   "I'm sorry I'm so gross down there.  It's really not my fault.  Sometimes they just got a little excited and did stuff to me, but I tried to stop them.  I did!  Well, until I realized I couldn't stop them, then I just closed my eyes and counted till it was over, or until someone helped me get up or until I woke up afterwards."  I think Mack just flinched.  Ooops.
   "Let me go get a nurse and I'll be right back."  Mack says with a kind of ashen face.  I hope I didn’t upset him talking about that
stuff
.
   "Please Mack.  Could you just do it?  I don't want to wait.  Plus, I really want you to see me.  I don't know why.  It's not perverted or anything... I just feel like you should see it.  Maybe so you know what it looks like down there.  Maybe if you see it all, I won't have to talk any more, I don't know.  Can you please just look?"  What the hell am I asking?
   "Listen to me.  I cannot look at your vagina..."
flinch
"... It is highly inappropriate, given the circumstances, and I don't need to look.  Plus, I know you wouldn't be very comfortable with me looking at you so intimately.  Also, I
need
you to talk to me- me looking at your body is not going to change that, therefore, examining the damage inflicted upon your body will not change the fact that you and I need to discuss what happened to you.  Do you understand what I'm saying to you?"
   "Yes. I understand."  I'm used up and too gross to look at.  I understand,
totally.
  God, this sadness is oppressive.  The weight on my chest is so heavy, I can barely breathe.  I really wish I hadn't asked.  I wish I was just like,
normal
or something.  I can't explain any of this anymore. 
   Before my brain became sick, I at least knew what I thought and felt.  Before, I was in complete control of myself.  Before, I acted the way I should for everyone, but at least in my head I knew what I actually wanted to do, and say, and feel... whether I did, said, or felt it, for others to see.

 
Now, I know nothing but I
feel
everything.  I feel too much, and I hate this.  This remembering and feeling is suffocating and nauseating, and honestly, just horrifying.  I prefer my ‘
before’
. 
   My ‘before’ was hard... but easy too.  It was hard to always swallow everything down, but at least I had all the choice taken from me.  I just knew I had to swallow it all, or I would get into trouble.  Period.  That's all.  That was easy, because there was no choice, or decisions to make.
   Now, I'm supposed to choose.  I'm supposed to act on my own.  I'm supposed to do, say and feel whatever I can at all times.  I hate this
‘now'
that I'm living in.  Now is hard.  Now is heavy.  Now is depressing. 
Now,
I’m sad, lonely, scared, and kind of
desperate
, actually
.
   I really hate my life now.  I hate all this
feeling
, and sadness, and confusion.  I know now, I like my
‘before’
better.  I think I need the 'before'... when I didn't feel anything, but simple frustration.  I think I want to go back to my
'before'
.

                           
       ==========

 
"Why are you crying?"  Mack asks gently.

 
"I don't really want to do this anymore, Mack,"  I confess through my tears. 

 
"What don't you want to do?"

 
"Um...
This.
All of it.  I'm not really good at this, and I don't want to do it anymore."
   "What don't you want to do anymore? What is upsetting you?"
   "
Life.
"  Oh, that actually felt good.  I said it.  That's what I've meant all along. I don't really want this
life
anymore, and I don't want to feel this way anymore.

 
"I'm really tired Mack and just
sad
.  It's very heavy, and I hate feeling this way.  I don't want to feel this way anymore.  I
can’t
feel this way anymore.  It’s just too much.  This hurts too much,
all the time.
”
   "Listen to me.  You are depressed, and you’re very stressed out.  There are actual physical, psychological, and physiological reasons for this depression, but it can be helped.  I can give you medication that will help.  I can talk with you and help you understand what you're feeling, and how to cope with what you're feeling.  You
can
and
will
get better in time.  I promise you; you will not always feel this way."
   "Um... thank you, Mack.  But I, ah, don't really care why.  I am just too tired to care anymore."
   Squatting down, Mack puts his hands on my knees and looks up at me, so kindly, I can't help but sob.  He is so special.  He is just, like a
delight
or something.
  "Mack.  I will take your memory with me too.  I will, you know.  I don't have
those
kind of feelings for you, but I think I love you very much for your goodness.  Even right now, you’re touching my knees, and I feel only
good
.  You are so kind, and beautiful.  And I really do love you, I think."
   "Thank you, but..."
   "Please listen Mack.  You didn't do anything wrong.  You’re a really good doctor, but I don't want to do this anymore.  I really don't.  I've thought about it… all the bad, and even the few 'goods', but they're not enough.  I don't want this anymore.  Please understand that it's not you, and I really hope you believe me, but I have to go.  I just have to leave all this
awful.
  I really do want to die now, it’s time for me.”  There.  I said a heart-felt good bye to Mack.
   "Well, I can't allow that, I'm sorry.  As your doctor, but more importantly, as your friend, I WILL NOT allow that.  I have to step in, and take that choice from you."  No! 
   "Please, Mack.  I have to.  You don't understand how much I hurt.  God, everything hurts!  My head is filled with pain, and memories of pain, a lifetime of pain... and my heart hurts so
badly
.  It's agony to continue. 
Please?
  Please understand?  I have to go.  I have to.  I have nothing good and I
feel
nothing good.  There is only awful, heart crushing agony.  Please let me go... I don't want to live anymore, I really don't.  I really have thought about it,
I have
.  I'm not making a hasty decision, and it's not something to regret.  I need to do this.  I
want
to do this... I
want
to die.  I want to be dead now.” And in nothing more than a whisper, I beg, "Please Mack, let me do this. 
Please,
 let me go..."
   For one long moment Mack just stares at my eyes.  Shaking his head suddenly, Mack exhales a hard breath and says, "I can't, and I won't let you go.  You are going to live, I'm going to
make
you live.  And you’ve just given me the power to ensure that you live.  I have to take your will from you,
for now
, until you’re better.  I'm really sorry about this, but I WILL do this."
   And rising, Mack begins walking to the door. 
Shit!
  What's he going to do?  "Please, Mack!  Please don't do anything to me.  Please!  I like you, please don't hurt me."
   Shaking his head, Mack calls for someone in the hallway.  I hear a code of some sort.  I hear his name paged overhead.  What's happening?
   "
Please
Mack... You don't understand! 
Please!"
   Ignoring me, Mack waits at the door.  With his back to me, I see him talking and nodding to someone in the hall.  What's he saying?

 
This is so stressful.  What the hell did I do?  I should have just pretended.  I should have acted happy, and then done this later, or on my own, or somewhere else, or, or
LATER.
 
Fuck!
  Why was I so
stupid?
  Why did I trust him?  I knew he'd screw me over.  I
knew
it.  Fix this.
   "Mack! 
Mack!!
  I'm fine.  I've changed my mind.  I'm good.  I won't do anything!  I promise!  I'll be good, and do, and say, and, ah,
feel
whatever you want me to, I
promise
!  Mack!  Please listen to me!  Please!  I won't be bad again, I swear!  PLEASE!"
 

 
When Mack turns to me, he actually looks sad.  It's weird, I want to comfort
him
or something.  I want to make him not sad.  He kind of looks like Z did. 
Shit.
   "I'm sorry, Mack.  I was just being silly, I promise.  I'm good, honestly.  Don't be sad or anything, I'm not, ah, worth it, I'm really not.  I'll do whatever you want."
   "Actually, you ARE
worth it
.  And I'm going to help you
feel
worth it." Mack says as he walks toward me while 2 nurses, and a man walk in the room.