NUMB REALITYã
BY
CatrinaVee
She laid on the slightly
padded exam table with her right ankle under her left knee staring at the
ceiling and wondering what the doctor would say when he came in the room. Her eyes moved to the window where blue pastel
curtains hung open revealing a cloud-covered sun. The clouds dulled the morning light, much like fear dulled her
senses. Her body felt like it was
protected by a shell of numbness, subduing her feelings of terror, and stopping
her from going into hysterics. She had
seen the x-rays, when the x-ray technician had looked at them in the exam
room, and knew another lengthy surgery
would have to be done. The last one had
taken twelve hours, how long this one would take she didn’t know, and didn’t
want to know.
She tried to relax, to make
her mind go blank by concentrating on the piped in music coming from somewhere
in the room. But her thoughts kept
reliving the past year and a half of agony, threatening to shatter the shell. She noticed a ringing in her ears that grew
louder and louder by the second, she
felt like serpents were twisting the life out of her throat. Her palms became cold and sweaty as anxiety
escalated to panic. Calm down Camille,
she thought willing herself to breathe slowly and deeply. Gradually the serpents constricting her
airway relaxed and, her breathing became easier.
Dr. Faust would be walking in any minute, and Cammy
felt to go into hysterics in front of him would be a disaster. He wasn’t a very understanding man and already
thought she was a weakling because of her complaints about pain. She knew he thought she should just bear it
without complaints or expectations from
him to help ease it. Any show of
unstable emotion, from her, would probably only enforce Dr. Faust’s impression
of her as a weakling, and Cammy couldn’t handle any criticism, or even a
disapproving look at this point.
Cammy heard someone outside the exam room door. Suddenly Dr. Faust burst in emitting an air
of arrogance that would have intimidated a murderer on death row. She immediately sat up on the edge of the
exam table.
“There is a reason for your pain,” he announced as if telling her the
time of day.
A couple of medical residents also followed him into
the room, walked quietly to a corner, and proceeded to watch and listen to the
great Dr. Faust like two adoring fans.
“This is an osteotomy of the pelvis,” he said as he hung her x-rays
over a square light on the wall.
“There is a nonunion here at the pubic ramus, and
the plate I put in to stabilize the bones has broken. The bone must not of
healed in this area, and when you started to put weight on that leg, the plate
couldn’t withstand the pressure and broke.
I couldn’t see that area on the x-ray before because it’s covered by the
plate.” He stated as if talking to himself, or the residents, or maybe even
her, but his gaze remained on the x-ray over the light.
Cammy tried
to concentrate on what he was saying.
She was a registered nurse and understood medical jargon, but the words
hit her like a heavyweight’s right hook.
She stared at the x-rays and tried to make sense of what the doctor had
said. Something had gone wrong in the
healing process. The place in her groin where he had cut the bone had not
healed, and the metal plate he had screwed into the bone to stabilize it during
healing, was also broken. So now she
had broken metal and bone moving around in her body, causing excruciating pain,
and filling her with anxiety at the thought of what she would have to go
through to make it better.
“Will you
lay down so I can examine your incision?” Dr. Faust asked with some compassion
in his voice. Maybe he really did
regret having treated her so badly, Cammy thought to herself, he hadn’t
believed her when she complained about severe pain, but the proof was in front
of him now, and he had no choice but to believe her. She had some difficulty lifting her left leg upon the table
because of the piercing pain in her groin.
So she grabbed her knee with her hands and lifted it on the table with
her arms. Dr. Faust stood next to the
table watching her. As she laid down
she could feel the aching in her groin ease up and was grateful to him for
having her lay down, even if he hadn’t helped her into the position. It quickly became painful for her to sit because
most of her weight rested on her pelvic and standing presented the same
problem. Laying was the most
comfortable, since most of her weight could be taken off her pelvic, but even
that position didn’t suppress all the pain all the time, and she couldn’t just
lay down anywhere she went, or anytime she needed to.
Cammy pulled down the elastic waist of the gray
polyester shorts she had donned for the x-ray and exam to expose her
abdomen. Dr. Faust bent over her and
touched the scar that remained from the first surgery. It was dark red and extended from between
her legs, up around the left hip, and back down to the middle of her left
buttocks.
“I’ll have to go in and take out the broken plate,
do more bone grafts, and replace the plate.
I’ll try to go in just in front this time,” Dr. Faust remarked as if
Cammy should be happy about him only cutting her ten inches instead of twenty.
Cammy looked up at his face to see if there were any
signs he was unsure or skeptical of over the success of the results of another
surgery, but she found none. His blue
eyes and handsome face looked relaxed enough: no worry or concern creased the
wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, or on his forehead. His thick gray hair was a mess as usual, and
even though it didn’t hang over his ears or collar, the strands went every
which way without any order, like a salt and pepper wicker basket. She noticed he hands were large as he took
them off her abdomen and pulled the shorts she wore over the scar.
“Will it be as bad this time?” Cammy
asked, knowing what he would know what she meant.
“You shouldn’t have such a long incision,” Dr. Faust
answered, completely avoiding the real question.
She knew his calculated evasion meant he didn’t have
any idea how much pain she would be in after the surgery. But pressing him for an answer would only
make him mad, and he might start calling her demeaning names as he had in the
past when his anger got out of control.
So she just sat quietly trying to suppress the panic again mounting
inside her chest.
“I’ll go see when Dave can schedule you. And you better go back on your crutches, I
don’t want that bone moving anymore than it already has. You can get dressed.” Dr. Faust told her as he left the room with
his two adoring fans following close behind.
Cammy could hear his muffled voice arranging the
surgery as she rolled off the table and walked over to the chair where her
jeans were draped. She picked up her
jeans, pulled the shorts down over her buttocks, then sat in the chair to
finish taking them off. She then put
her legs in her jeans, left one first, and stood to pull her pants up over her
hips. Everything in life had become so
complicated since the surgery, even putting on her pants, and now she had to go
through the whole thing again. She
hoped it would be soon, the sooner it was the less time she would have feel how
she would rather be dead than go through it again.
Cammy heard a couple of sharp raps on the door and
hurried to zip up her jeans.
“Come in,” she replied more loudly than necessary.
“Your set up for next Tuesday,” Dr. Faust stated
after opening the door and stepping just inside the room.
“Could I have something for pain,” Cammy asked timidly, while following
him out of the room.
“Yes. I guess I can give you something. Write her a prescription for codeine Dave,”
he said to his assistant who stood behind a small white counter across from the
exam rooms.
She was relieved he had prescribed the pain pills
for her, he seldom gave her even mild narcotics like codeine, no matter how much
pain she was in. Cammy didn’t even know
if they would decrease the pain much, but any narcotic was better than just the
aspirin she had been taking.
Dave was writing out the prescription when Cammy
approached the white counter. He was tall
and rather heavyset with dark brown hair and olive skin. He lifted his head which had been bent over
the prescription pad and Cammy noticed he looked frustrated and uncomfortable. Creases marred his wide forehead and the
narrow space between his brown eyes.
His movements were quick and uncoordinated as he flipped through a
couple of appointment books that lay on the counter in front of him.
“Today is Thursday.
That doesn’t give me much time to get this set up with the
hospital.” Dave said quickly, his voice
reflecting the anxiety he felt at having to arrange things so hurriedly.
“ I know it is kind of short notice.
You think you can do it?”
Cammy’s voice shook as she asked Dave the
question. Her composure was draining
away fast, everything was so
overwhelming. She tried to concentrate
on the task at hand, block everything else from her mind, all she needed now
was the prescription.
“I’ll call the hospital and try to get things ready
there,” Dave replied, as he gave her a small white piece of paper.
Cammy just wanted to leave, to escape the tense
atmosphere. She assumed all the office
staff knew of the failed surgery, for she could feel their condescending gazes
upon her. Every time she would look
directly at the chubby redhead behind the counter with Dave, or the middle aged
woman at the front desk, their eyes would look away leaving her feeling
uncomfortable. She quickly turned to
leave, but as she stepped down on her left leg the bone moved in her groin and
the shock of intense pain caused her to quickly draw in a breath, and muffle a
groan. The second step was a little
less painful as Cammy’s body adjusted to the movement, or to the penetrating
dull ache, she wasn’t quite sure which.
Cammy again turned to leave, limping slowly through the patient filled
waiting area, and out the glass exit door.
It was cold, for this late in March, and she hugger
her coat a little closer to her body.
A continuous stream of gray clouds swept past the sun allowing only
brief patches of light to peak out as one cloud ended and another began. The movement of a gray squirrel caught her
attention while she limped down the sidewalk that led to her car. It ran up a small, leafless tree and perched
on a branch about halfway up to munch on a nut it held in its front paws. Cammy’s expression relaxed and the corners
of her mouth lifted in a tiny smile as she stood watching the busy rodent and
remembering a happier time, when there was no pain, no anxiety, and no fear. Seconds later a car passed by scaring the
squirrel and the pleasant memories away.