quintessence. (6 page)

I looked at my bedroom ceiling and let myself drift through the tenses. I laughed to myself as I visualized as Karl suggested. On our walk back to Gabe’s, he suggested that I think past myself in the little things. I began to think of myself as someone else. It seemed easier to understand my situation if I became the Mother Hen to myself for once. I found that the more I did it, the more I felt myself move outside my personal space.

The rest of the evening at Gabe’s I had watched Karl, trying to gauge when he was visualizing as he explained to me. I think I spotted it when his eyes moved around and seemed to focus on something that wasn’t there. But his smile stole the thoughts from him. When he smiled, it was as if he was brought back and he saw the room again. He was amazing.

But, as I laid there and looked to the ceiling, I tried to quiet my thoughts of Karl. It made it easier as he had been absent for a few days since that night. I could focus on moving past my personal space without the desire to have him in it more.

My shelves still hovered over my head in my visualizing. The future possibilities were up there waiting for me, but they were easier to hold there now.

“What are you thinking about?” my mom said, as she leaned against my doorframe.

“Just shelves and tenses and personal space—and dancing in circles,” I said with a smile.

“Your night out did you well. You’re less burdened,” she said.

“I am less burdened. I have a focus now, and I have Karl to thank for it,” I said, rolling to my side and resting my head on my hand. “He’s a good friend.”

“How long have you known him? You’ve never mentioned him before,” my mom said.

“Well, I met him last Christmas at a party. We’ve talked a couple times, but I have considered him a friend since Friday.”

“A friend since Friday—that sounds like a country song,” my dad said, joining my mom in the doorway.

I threw my pillow at them.

My dad threw it right back at me.

“Are you ready to go?” my mom asked.

“Yeah, I’m about ready. I need to put some shoes on and I’m ready.”

A knock sounded at my door, and I shrugged at my father’s questioning look.

My dad left to answer the door and came back a few minutes later with an envelope and a smile.

“Here you go,” he said, handing me the envelope.

On the envelope, written in a disheveled hand was one word: “Maggie.”

I opened the envelope and inside was a handmade card. On the cover of it was a drawing of a merry go round with my likeness in the middle. My sweater and hat looked exact, even down to the hole on the outside of the left pocket and the missing second button. The detail of my sweater was amazing, but the part that made my heart catch was the smile on my face. It was mine, as was the moment. He gave me that at the park and he gave it again in the card.

I opened the card and inside he said,
“I’m sorry I can’t be there today. I have to work since it isn’t as cold out. I found a good substitute though. I think you will approve—Karl.”

“Hey, sweet cheeks,” Gabe said as he walked into my room with a smile. “I’m upset with you for not including me sooner and allowing him to be the one to tell me I needed to be here.”

“Sorry. I haven’t wanted to bother anyone with this. It’s bad enough that my parents had to give up their trip to the Bahamas to come here.”

“Magistrate, shut it. We want to be here. All of us do. Hannah sends her love. She was Karl’s first choice. That stung. But you know how it goes. I understand how you girls need to stick together or some bullshit. What do they say for you anyway? I know guys say, “Bros before hos”, but what about you? Bitches before stitches?”

“That makes no sense what so ever, Gabe. But I’m glad you’re here. I love Hannah to pieces, but I think there’d be more tears with her and less laughs right now. I need laughs and you always bring them.”

He put his arm around my shoulder, pulling me in and kissing my head. “Of course I do. That’s my job—to be the comic relief when my Magistrate is down in the dumps. But I should make note of the fact you look less in the dumps than when you arrived at my house the other night.”

“I am less in the dumps. I’m getting creative with my thoughts.”

“That’s kind of frightening,” he said, furrowing his brow.

“It’s not frightening. I’m just trying to figure out how to align my former self with this self,” I said as I danced my hand in the air across my body. The body that betrayed me.

“Well, if I can be of any help, don’t hesitate,” he said, standing from the bed.

I reached into my shirt to pull out a strand of hair that was tickling my shoulder. “Damn it, I can’t find this hair and it’s driving me nuts. You know when you have a hair stuck in a shirt and it feels like a spider crawling?” I asked, and he stared at me as if I had lost my mind. “Well, this is awful. This feeling is like a random hair is bugging me and it’s evasive and running from me. Then I itch because it makes me feel like I have things crawling on me.” I knew there wasn’t a hair and this was part of what had continued to happen with me. It was my body betraying me once more.

He shrugged. “Hmm, that’s beyond me. My hair’s short, remember?” He ran his hand across the top of his head, creating an intentional messy look.

“I’m just going to change this sweater, I think it makes it worse,” I said, as I took my sweater off and searched for a cotton tee shirt. Cotton felt better.

My mom walked in the room. “Maggie! Why are you half naked in front of Gabe?” she asked.

I looked at Gabe and laughed. “He doesn’t care, Mom.”

“Well, I’m sure he doesn’t. Any man of his age would love to see a half-naked, beautiful, girl.”

“Mrs. Presley—Rebecca. As beautiful as your daughter is—seeing her breasts is not something I long to see. They’re just there and do nothing for me,” he said with a laugh.

“That’s rude, don’t you think? She’s already in an unsettling place and then to degrade her that way is just
awful
.” my mom said, infuriated.

I laughed then. “Mom, you know Gabe is gay, right?”

She looked at him and her jaw dropped. “No, I did not.”

“Yep—it’s true,” he said with a shrug, and walked past her out of my room.

“Everyone ready?” my dad asked, peeking around the door and putting his jacket on. “We don’t want to be late and I’m not sure how long it will take to get across town so I’d like to be early.”

He was oblivious.

__________

“Do you want me to come in the room with you?” my mom asked. I shook my head, and then nodded.

“Yes, I do.”

“Okay,” she said as I put my ear buds in. I started up the song Karl’s CD started with, and I closed my eyes and turned the music up. I lifted my head to the ceiling and remembered what it felt like on the merry go round the other night.

I focused and visualized how I would react no matter what they told me. I would get through it. I can do it.

I can do it.

I can make it into the present tense.

Stop focusing on the future tense and the “will be’s” and the “somedays”.

I laughed at the word Hannah, Lily and I had once used. I didn’t care about someday anymore. I just wanted to get through the next few minutes. I wanted to get through today.

“Margaret Presley?”

I rolled my eyes as Gabe laughed to himself. “Go be brave for me,
Margaret
.” He squeezed my hand and lifted a magazine from the rack next to him. He pulled his bottom lip in and I saw the tear form in his eye as he tried to ignore it. I ignored it, too.

“I prefer Maggie,” I said, as I stepped closer to the woman who couldn’t be much older than me.

“I’m sorry, Maggie. Let’s get your weight and then we’ll get you in the room to meet the doctor.”

“Can’t wait,” I said with a wag of my brows to my mom. She put her hand on my back and rubbed my shoulder.

They did the usual—blood pressure, weight, but then she handed me a form to fill out.

“Go ahead and answer all those questions please and then the doctor will be in to see you in just a few minutes. Do you have your films?” the nurse asked.

“No, they said they would send them over after my MRI.”

“Okay, doctor can get them from the computer,” she said as she left the room. She hadn’t given me her name and I thought of what Karl said about personal space. Though she worked in healthcare and helped those that were sick, she still clung to her personal space.

I looked down at the questionnaire; there were several questions listed next to a rating scale. I read through them and they blurred across my eyes, blending into one. My breathing picked up and I felt panicky. I was going to hyperventilate.

All of them—every last one of them were things I had issue with over the last year.

Mood Swings? Sex Drive? Tingling? Phantom feelings on skin? Numbness? Weakness? Pain? Constipation? Incontinence? Spasms? Cognitive performance? Problems with walking? Balance?

Every last one of them had affected me.

Rate them. Rate how my life has been over the last year? All of them made an appearance and now I had to force myself to think about them. A twenty-three year old woman shouldn’t be having problems with any of this shit. I shouldn’t have to rate my sex drive and cognitive issues. And don’t forget my constipation and incontinence—that should be non-existent. It was an embarrassment.
I was an embarrassment.

The tears fell. I could rate my tears.

Rate my tears
.

They were a ten. They were always a ten.

“It’s okay, Maggie. It will be okay,” my mom said as she pulled me under her arm. “Let me do it. Let me just hold onto it for you. We will talk to him first, and then look at this, okay?”

I nodded as a gentle knock sounded at the door, but it felt louder. It echoed through my mind as I looked up and saw my future hovering around me again.

The door opened and a gentle looking older man walked in. “My name is Dr. Reed.” He put his hand toward me. “You must be Maggie Presley?” he asked with a smile.

“Yes, that’s me.” I smiled in return.

Get creative
.
I heard Karl’s words echo in my thoughts. I would get creative with my reaction to this and how I would move forward.

“Has any doctor told you what your results look to be? You’ve had so many tests so far. I’ve received the results of many of them and there are some things we need to talk about. Did they tell you about my specialty when they registered you for this appointment?” Dr. Reed asked.

“No, they didn’t,” I said.

“Okay, from your scans—the x-rays, MRIs and even the results of your colonoscopy—in conjunction with the other scans, it all points in one direction. You know you have a spot—deterioration on your spine? There was the larger one that we saw on the x-ray, and then you have a couple smaller ones farther up your spine. The larger one caused your constipation and incontinence, I believe. Has that become better?” he asked with a sincere expression.

“Yes sir, it has.”

“Okay, I want to run more tests. That word is the bane of your existence, right?” He smiled before continuing, “But, I want to do an MRI of the brain and a spinal tap.” His lowered gaze watched my face. My tears fell again.

He reached across the room and wheeled himself closer. He squeezed my hand, and it reminded me of the same motion Karl did just a few days ago.

“Do you know what multiple sclerosis is?” he asked me.

I shook my head. “I’ve heard it before, but to define it or explain it to you, I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Multiple Sclerosis is a scarring of the myelin sheath. Do you know what that is?” I shook my head. “You know how all electrical wires have that rubber wrapping that encases the actual wires that do the work?” I nodded. “That’s kind of like the myelin sheath to your spine. Then you have myelin in your brain, too. Sclerosis means scarring. The spot on your spine resembles one of those scars. MS is an autoimmune disorder in which your body gets confused and attacks itself. When it attacks itself, your brain can’t get the message through to different parts of your body. And, the best way to determine if that is what you have going on is to test some of your spinal fluid. Then the MRI of the brain is an added measure to the diagnosis.”

“Okay,” I said as I took in a deep breath.
I’ve got this
.

“I need to do some other tests now in the room. These are simple. I’m just going to use my little safety pin to poke you. It sounds worse than it is.” He smiled at me as he stood to wash his hands. “I will need you to take off your shoes for me too, please.”

He proceeded to poke my hands and my feet. Then he did some funny tests where he rubbed the side of his knee bopper thing under my feet and watched my toes curl up. That was the easy part.

Then he had me stand.

“Okay, up on your toes please, and then walk.”

I pulled my lip in and fought my emotions.
Laughter
.