The Unbalancing Act

by Lynn, Kristen

  “Hurry up baby,” I say.

  “I’m trying.”

  “Think about boobies,” I say, “and butts!”

  “Shut up. Don’t make me laugh, you are breaking my concentration.”

  “I’m not making you laugh. I’m serious...hurry up and do whatever it takes. Think about someone else for pity’s sake. How about...oh...I don’t know...”

  “You’re not helping. Quit talking normally. Talk like we are having sex.”

  “Umm...okay. How is the sex going there, dear? This a fine day for having sex, ain’t it? I’m sure glad we are doing the sex.”

  “Oh Vada just shut the hell up! I’m almost done. You obviously aren’t into this.”

  “Yes I am! You are rude. Why would you say that? I’m in the hospital you know?”

  “Vada...shhh...just shut up.”

  “Oh fucking fine...boobs and butts and big floppy nipples!”

  Eric finally finishes. “Seriously Vada, what is wrong with you?” But then he pulls me up and kisses me. It was a real kiss, one that wasn’t a joke. Now I kind of feel bad. I think maybe I may have ruined that whole sex vibe thing. Oh well, it’s over now. Too late!

  “It was the big floppy nipples comment I made that turned you on wasn’t it?” I ask, laughing.

  “I wasn’t even listening to you, but if you said that, then no. I’m not into big and floppy anything, but thanks for trying.”

  Eric gets dressed, and then helps me get dressed and lo and behold we hear a knock at the door and in walks Dr. Ames.

  “Just wanted to check on you, Vada. I didn’t know your husband was still here.”

  “He was just leaving. Maybe you could call for someone to walk him out?”

  “Yes, of course,” says Dr. Ames. He picks up the room phone and pages a nurse. Wanda, the nurse who seems to be excited for the apocalypse, comes in to walk him out. Eric gives me one last kiss goodbye and says he’ll hopefully see me at home tomorrow. I love him.

  This is the part I did not want to happen. Dr. Ames is standing there all stout and splotchy and he looks nervous. Why the hell is he nervous? I’m the one who snuck out, got trashed, and ended up in the hospital from climbing a fence.

  “Vada,” he says in a more serious tone than I would like “I would like to say this only once and then you and I shall never speak of this again. I realize you are aware of my relationship with Gerri. It was wrong. My wife and I have been going through marital problems and I made some very poor choices during a period of weakness. I am ashamed and embarrassed of the affair. I have a plan for change. Gerri and I have decided to end our relationship and it is now strictly professional. Does anyone else know about this?”

  I shake my head no.

  “Very good. Now let’s keep it that way. I will report your incident last night in the way I described it to your husband. I have had the security tapes destroyed and told the staff that I went to check them and they were blacked out…recording error, if you will. I told the staff you were resting with a headache and that is why you failed to report to your session. Do you understand what I mean, Vada?”

  “You mean if I keep your secret, you’ll keep my secret?”

  “Precisely. After I leave this room, I am your doctor, you are my patient...and none of this ever happened. Gerri is aware of course, as she had to come and get you, but like I said, all that is in the past.”

  “I like the way you think, doc.” I smile as sweet as cherry pie. “It’s all forgotten!”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Bower.” Ooh...I’m Mrs. Bower now.

  “No sweat...but Dr. Ames, I really am ready to go home.”

  “Yes, I know. We’ll work on that, just let us work with you tomorrow and we’ll see what we can do about that, okay? If I let you go now, things would look suspicious. Bear with me and I will see what can be done. You must be patient.”

  “Okay.”

  “Now you rest the remainder of the evening. Dinner will be on its way soon and should you need medical attention, please ring your nurse. We will need to stay on top of your pain medications and I don’t want you getting up tonight, unless it’s to use the restroom. You should feel better sooner if you get some rest.”

  “You got it, Dr. Ames.”

  Dinner comes and I am famished. I would really eat anything, but this is not what I would have picked. It is some kind of cheese and chicken situation with vegetables. What I would really like is a burger and fries. I eat this nonsense anyways and it’s not that bad. I fill my belly and drink a huge glass of iced tea. I lay there tired and satisfied thinking of all the things I am looking forward to when I get home. But my stomach lurches. My much-needed dinner is unfortunately taking a turn for the worse and I think I am going to hurl. I try to get up and make it to the bathroom, but my sore body will not get me there fast enough. I grab my plate and lean off my bed and try to hit the target. It splashes off the plate and onto the floor. Super. Now I need to clean up this vomit, but I do feel much better. I am not even going for the bathroom to get a towel, so I take off my sweatshirt (I have a tank top underneath) wipe it up, and toss it in the hamper across the room. I’m impressed by that shot…nothing but net. I do realize what I have done just there is quite gross, but after having three boys, you learn that your shirts can be used for many purposes, like wiping noses and catching spit-up. So long as it’s cleaned up right away, I can handle it. I hide the plate under my bed. I just can’t get up right now.

  I lay there, realizing that I really need to get back to my life. I need to update my blog. Most importantly, I need to be parenting my children. My mind is racing and I have so much guilt that it makes me want to jump out of my skin. I am so relieved when Katelyn walks in. She’s looking beautifully perfect as always and seems like she is trying to hide a smile.

  “What the hell happened to you? No...I don’t want to know. Yes I do, and I have your meds. So start talking.”

  I fill her in on what happened with the sneak out and swear her to secrecy. I leave out the part about Dr. Ames and his affair. I am a lot of things, but I’m not a big mouth when it comes to other people’s issues. Mostly because I have enough of my own issues so I don’t spread news that’s not mine. Katelyn sits there with her mouth open wide like she’s in total shock.

  “I didn’t even know. Gerri came and told me I had too many hours so to leave early. I thought that was weird. You know I probably would have been in big trouble if I would have been working when this all went down.”

  “Let’s just say that the hospital thinks I was sleep-walking.”

  “Vada, I don’t know how you got so lucky, but I must say you are one crazy chick. Oh God...I didn’t mean crazy like crazy-crazy. I meant it like crazy-funny...um..sorry.”

  “Oh shut up. Do you really think I am offended? I have stitches in my ass cheek, my husband just came for a booty-call, and I am an inpatient in a mental hospital. You’re not even kind of hurting my feelings. So don’t worry about it.”

  “Not to change the subject, but I got all my stuff from your brother last night, so leaving early had its benefits.”

  “Oh really? That was quick. That’s great!”

  “Yeah, he brought the truck back and unloaded it. You wouldn’t believe all the stuff I got. Some of it I need to sell, but some of it I’m going to keep because I think I’ve earned it. Heath helped me set everything up. Oh, and then he spent the night.”

  “Oh really? That was quick. That’s great!” I say again, slightly mockingly.

  “Are you serious or are you kidding? You’re not upset or anything, are you? I think I like him.” Sweet, perfect Katelyn looks at me with puppy dog eyes. I can tell she really wants my approval.

  “Hell, I hope you like him if you let him spend the night the first time you hung out with the guy for crying out loud. I didn’t know you were a whore Katelyn,” I say laughing.

  She laughs too. “I’m not a whore, but he was so nice and we got all flirty with each other. After he hooked up my TV for me
, I asked him to stay for a beer. We ended up talking all night and we are going to see each other again. We have a date next weekend!”

  “I’m happy for you both. Just be prepared. He sleeps with almost every female customer of his. If you pay forty dollars extra, you get the full service move.”

  “Shut up!”

  “I’m just kidding! He’s actually pretty lame. He hasn’t dated anyone in a long time, so I’m glad you guys are hitting it off.”

  “Good. I’m glad you are okay with it. Now take your meds and ring me if you need anything. I’m here for another hour. But go to sleep; you look like you’ve been mauled by a tiger.”

  “Thank you for your kind words, ya hoe!”

  “Goodnight, Vada.”

  “Goodnight, you brother-fucker.”

  “Shut up! Good night.”

  She is totally smitten. I haven’t seen her so excited and jumpy since I met her. Her whole demeanor is different. Good for her. Katelyn shuts the big creaky door and I can hear her footsteps fade down the hallway. I must admit that I am totally shocked that perfect flawless Katelyn would be messing with my pot-head brother, but maybe they’ll be good for each other. Maybe she’ll give him a reason to straighten himself up. I turn off the lights and cozy up under my covers, careful to not rub any of my stitches. I can’t think anymore because my medicine kicks in and I am being pulled off to a fuzzy, itchy sleep. I let go and surrender to the sandman who brings me a dream.

  March 9th

  I wake up to a hefty gal with a breakfast tray. I have never seen her before. She introduces herself as Sheila. She is as chipper as a freshly fucked fox. Her tight brown curls are bouncing as she walks, and she’s got tie-dyed scrubs on, which are annoyingly cute. She asks me if I need anything. I just ask for my schedule and tell her I plan on leaving today.

  “Oh,” she says, “that’s too bad. I’m new here, today’s my first day. So if you are leaving this may be a short friendship!” she says chuckling at herself.

  “Yep,” I say. “I don’t suppose you have my medicine?” I am still hurting.

  “Oh my goodness gracious!” She smiles revealing plum-colored lipstick on her top front teeth. “Why here you go, lamb, I bet you are super-duper sore!”

  Did she really just say that? I wonder if she’d like a super-duper black eye.

  “I mean it always hurts a little worse the next day in these type of situations, but don’t worry, Vada, we are going to take good care of you.”

  “Thank you,” I say, “but like I said, I am going to be leaving here today.”

  She looks at me smiles and cocks her head to the side. “Yes, of course sweetie. Of course you are.”

  Bitch better get the hell out of my room. I don’t know why this chick is rubbing me the wrong way, but I think she’s being condescending and I am in no mood for this crap. My Sam Kinison internal dialogue is screaming in her face right now. Sounding a little like, “get the fuck out the doooooor! Wipe that shitty smile off your faaaaacccce!” But I just smile, take my meds, and look at my schedule.

  One on One with Rita, ten o’clock.

  Evaluation, eleven thirty.

  Hallelujah! I’m getting evaluated and getting the hell out of here. It was fun while it lasted but I’m ready to go get my babies! I refuse Sheila’s assistance with taking a shower. I hobble in the bathroom shower and let the hot water run all over me. She insists on waiting outside the door in case I need anything. For goodness sake it was bruises and cuts, not head trauma. I guess this is what I get for being the dumbass that climbs a fence with barbed wire. But my shower feels delightful after the initial stinging of the sore spots. I decide to take my sweet time and sing just to annoy Sheila. I choose “Crazy Train,” just to frighten her a little. I do not normally enjoy making people uncomfortable, in fact, I’m normally really freaking nice. But this whole thing has turned out to be so much work. Being here I have felt just as stressed out as I did at home. Everybody needs something. I’ve been taking care of my own nurse for God’s sake! I’m done being nice for right now.

  I get out of the shower and grab a towel and realize my clothes are out in the room. Unfortunately, so is little Miss Purple Teeth with her curly tendrils bouncing about. I cover myself as best I can and open the bathroom door. Guess who’s looking at me? Yep, she’s looking right at me. I try to pretend I don’t notice, and start routing through my bag to find some clothes. I also need to get some under-britches and a bra. I choose some black yoga pants and a yellow flowy tank top, very casual, yet very sane. Now I must get these clothes on. I wish she would turn around. I keep my towel around my body and do the whole “junior high locker room” thing where I put my underwear on while still wrapped up. Then I must do the bra. I try to swing it into place, but my hand is still so sore I can’t grab the back strap and fasten it while holding this towel. She is still watching. I am getting fussy. This must be a hoot to watch. Why the hell won’t she just look away? I hate awkward situations and I’m starting to feel my inner bitch come out. Oh fuck it. I drop my towel and stand there with nothing on but pink underwear.

  I throw my hands up against the pain. “Do you see them? Get a good look there, girlfriend. They are implants, Sheila, but I bet you can tell that. Are you satisfied? You were betting they were fake, weren’t you? Weren’t you? Yep, I’m just a superficial, selfish, plastic girl who has gone mad, that’s what you are thinking right?”

  She looks at me like I poked her in the eye. “I was actually looking at the drawings behind you. Perhaps you should quit being so full of yourself.”

  I turn around and see what she is talking about. It’s the one I hung by my bed that Max made for me. It’s the butt cracks picture that I hung up. Oh I am such an idiot and I feel so stupid.

  “But now that you mention it, yes, I recognize that your boobs are fake. I’m so happy for you.” Her voice is still an octave higher than I am comfortable with.

  What do I say now? I am really looking like a crazy person. I swallow my pride and ask her to help me fasten my bra because of my stupid hand. Then I continue getting dressed. I turn and look at her and try to hold back a mixture of tears and laughter.

  “That, for your information, Sheila, is a drawing of butt cracks.”

  She looks at me like I am the looniest toon in town, smiles a fake smile, and backs out the door.

  “Ring me if you need anything, Mrs. Bower.”

  I realize that I have just initiated this chick on her first day as a nut-nurse. At least she’ll have a good story to tell her Facebook friends.

  Rita

  It nears ten o’clock. I get ready to go meet up with Rita in a counseling room. I pull my hair back and dab on some lip gloss. Even though I am sore, especially my leg and butt, I push through with just a little limp. It’s not that bad, but I still probably look like an idiot hobbling around. I wish I had a cane. Not because I need one, but because I’ve always wanted to carry a cane. I would lean on it and twirl it and maybe decorate it up a bit. I’d feel like Master Yoda walking through the halls. But no one at Rivergate Memorial Hospital or this hell hole has offered me a cane. They are probably afraid I’ll beat someone with it. They are probably right.

  I round the corner and see Jeremiah. He looks at me and shakes his head, but doesn’t say a word. Then, he takes off in the other direction. Gee, I wonder if he was trying to avoid me. That idiot couldn’t have made it more obvious. Oh well, I’m done with him. I just need to go down about twenty more feet and I should be there. I finally make it and I see Rita sitting at an empty table. Her face lights up when I stagger in.

  “Vada dear, how are you?”

  “I’m great, Rita, really. I’m just inching along here.”

  “I heard about your accident. I was so worried. These injuries can happen in the strangest ways. I heard a story about sleepwalking. Oh dear!” she says with a tight little grin.

  “Yes, I always thought it was the sheep that were supposed to jump the fence, not the people who are coun
ting them,” I say, trying to be funny, but I realize that it was a lame joke.

  Rita chuckles and then her face turns more serious. She is wearing a blazer and one of the lapels is crooked and I really want to fix it. I would want someone to fix it for me. Should I do it?

  “Tell me. Have you been keeping track of your meals? What are you weighing in at dear?” she asks.

  I haven’t kept track of anything and I have not been weighing myself. They just assume you do that here if you have an eating disorder. We are supposed to journal it. But to be honest my weight is just not on my mind right now. In fact, I have probably lost weight in the last week being here because I haven’t been snacking and I’ve been on so many meds. My pants are feeling a bit looser.