Affliction

by Daniels, Dottie

“Yeah, well, it’s nice to meet you too,” I said. I meant it.

  Mia waited for me patiently while I took a few bites from the salad and pizza; afterward we had a lengthy conversation. She asked me about my occupation and was pleasantly surprised that I too was in the healthcare field. Though it was just last week before everything happened, it seemed like it had been a year since I worked as I recalled some of my work experiences. I told her about Ronny and how I hoped he was still alive and with his family in Pittston. In my own mind I thought about how things might’ve gone for me had I taken his advice and gone with him in the first place. Mia told me she was from Wisconsin originally and had one brother that she hadn’t heard from either. She also revealed that both of her parents were deceased already from a car accident three years earlier. She moved to New Jersey for school and found a job working for a hospital nearby. Mia ended up at this research facility after being a paid research participant herself in a clinical trial in which she saw “unique nursing opportunities” posted on a job board. That was two years ago.

  I didn’t know why they decided to send Mia in after nurse Laura’s excellent care and companionship, I joked to myself. Then I thought more about my earlier behavior and decided I would try to make amends for what happened to the doctor, at least. According to my uncle, I’m the niece of the top dog on campus so why not pull a few strings and prevent a reprimand or two?

  “Does Dr. Chavan work or live in this building?” I asked Mia.

  “He’s here often, at least a couple times a day,” she replied. She looked as if she wanted to know why, so I told her.

  “I kind of want to apologize for what happened earlier. It was not his fault what I did and I’ll talk to my uncle about it if I have to, if it’ll keep him out of any trouble,” I said.

  “I should be able to get a phone in here, especially if it’s a call to one of the extensions here on site,” she responded. I immediately thought about my parents and Graham but this time I said nothing.

  I asked her if she could try right away and she got up. She took my tray of half-eaten food and told me she’d return with the phone if she could. A few minutes later, Mia came back with a phone in hand. “I promised I would stay here with you while you make the call and bring the phone back as soon as we’re finished,” she said as she found a phone jack, plugged it in and brought the cordless receiver to me. In her pocket she pulled out a piece of paper with a four-digit extension written down. I took the phone from her, dialed the extension and got a brief recording. It was the doctor’s voice with a general greeting and as I heard the beep I quickly blurted out, “Um hello Doctor, this is Seanna. I’m calling to apologize for earlier. I don’t want you to get into any trouble or anything. I would like to say it to you in person so when you have time, I’m hoping you’ll stop by.” I ended hesitantly with a “Thanks,” before I ended the call, hoping he’d know I sincerely meant it. Mia collected the phone and left before I laid my head down on the arm of the couch and drifted off to sleep.

  I dreamt for the first time since my first night here as my mind apparently became unfastened by all of the recent events that took place. I dreamt I was back at my apartment in my living room but all of the contents were gone as if I had moved out or hadn’t yet moved in. I couldn’t believe everything was gone so I walked to my bathroom where it too was empty of my possessions. I went to my bedroom next where I opened the door and instead walked into Graham’s bedroom at his house. This time, parts of an event occurred from a year ago when I

  went to his place after I hadn’t seen him in two weeks.

  Graham had just returned from a trip to Spain with Chad and Darin. Once he called to let me know he made it home, I immediately drove over and went up to his room where he was still in the middle of unpacking. We were supposed to go out for dinner but needless to say, we didn’t leave his room until much later in the evening. In my dream however, when we were in the middle of making out, I was on top and I told him, “I have the virus, it’s okay though, you’ll be safe.” We both were enjoying ourselves in the moment but he replied, “The virus feels good. We all die.” He put his hands on my hips so our movements could be in unison and after a minute and a few deep thrusts we both exhaled in pleasure. I threw my head back in enjoyment but when I looked back at him, smiling and relieved, Graham was no longer Graham as I knew him. The same wild look in Darin’s eyes that I saw up close as he attacked me was now in Graham’s eyes too. Instead of the warmth that I frequently enjoyed from him, he felt incredibly cold. In my dream I had no reaction to his physical change. Instead, I leaned over to his face, kissed his forehead and whispered, “Sorry,” as I got off of him. He began to groan like a dead one. I said it like it was to be expected and was near the door as he got up naked out of the bed in an effort to stumble after me. Oddly, I was not afraid of him; however, I too was naked and opened the door to his room and simply closed it shut again. I abruptly woke up on the couch with Mia at my side, her hand patting me gently in an attempt to wake me.

  “It’s time for your medications again. Bear with me and I promise I’ll be quick so you…”

  “It’s okay, I’m up,” I was slightly startled as I sat up and readied my arm for the injections. Sensing my unease, Mia asked me if I was feeling okay.

  I assured her I was fine, but she responded with a look of skepticism as she reached into her scrub pocket and pulled out a new digital thermometer and unwrapped it from its packaging. She took no protests from me as she went into “nurse mode” and directed me to open my mouth in a tone that wouldn’t tolerate any protest. We sat there motionless for the few seconds it took to beep, signaling a reading.

  “102.5,” Mia read out loud. She looked a little puzzled as she grabbed my chart from the table and flipped a few pages. It wasn’t hard to see she was hiding her concern from the hurried way she looked at the watch on her hand, jotted a few notes down and reached for the syringes. During the rest of the short time Mia was in the room she gave me the injections and said nothing to me except, “Okay, you should probably lie down with all this in your system now,” as she grabbed the chart and left, minus all the pleasantries from earlier I had gotten used to.

  Feeling questionable, I followed Mia’s advice but instantly became nauseous as I stood and instead I stumbled to the bathroom, barely making it to heave the pizza and salad I’d eaten only an hour ago before. I was surprised as I hovered over the commode looking at the mostly undigested pieces of my dinner. I was shivering by the time I finished and hurried to find a toothbrush so I could lay down thereafter in hopes of preventing any further sickness. The bed felt cool to the touch as I crawled underneath the sheets and exhaled in relief for completing my objection. It wasn’t more than ten seconds before the swipe of the key card sounded from the outside. The door swung open, Dr. Chavan and Dr. Strauss, both of whom carried expressions of concern, hurried in.

  Chapter Seven

  I don’t know if those two figured I’d be walking on the walls but I figured in that short time between the walk from the bathroom and those precious seconds I spent lying horizontal on the cool sheets, I managed to feel some relief. I was pleased to see Dr. Chavan. I was hoping he was here because he’d heard my voicemail message and was ready to help me bury my self-inflicted hatchet.

  “Well, hello, Dr. Chavan. Listen, I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier,” I began my short speech before I was cut off.

  “We need to get your temperature again,” Dr. Strauss interrupted me as she gave me a quick visual inspection. I looked over to Dr. Chavan who was now at the other side of the bed setting up the portable monitor, adjusting straps and plugging it into an outlet nearby. She pulled out another digital thermometer from her lab coat pocket and barely waited for me to sit up before she had the metal end at my lips. I obliged her request, being startled and sat there in silence yet again waiting for the thermometer to signal its results.

  “I did get your message,” Dr. Chavan quickly blurted without any eye conta
ct.

  “Mmmhmm…” I mumbled, keeping my mouth closed tight.

  They moved at the same time when the thermometer beeped. Dr. Chavan put a blood pressure cuff around my arm and the oxygen sensor on my finger. Dr. Strauss gently pulled the thermometer from under my tongue, glanced at the tiny screen and looked at Dr. Chavan who was also waiting.

  “Same,” Dr. Strauss said.

  By now the monitor was up and running and their attentions were focused now on all it had to offer. I sat there for a few seconds before the continual silence between the three of us caused me to speak up.

  “I do want to say, I apologize… to both of you and probably everyone else I caused trouble for,” I said as I looked at them both, though neither gave a hint they were paying attention to a word I was saying.

  “I feel okay, though I just lost my dinner before you came in,” I quickly added.

  The machine blinked twice as the numbers finally stabilized. Dr. Strauss reached behind the bed where there were three boxes of assorted sizes of exam gloves. She put on a pair and told Dr. Chavan that she was going to set up a line and directed him to get the kit. In the mean time she went in her pocket and pulled out the usual blood collection supplies, a tourniquet and a Vacutainer with similar test tubes from before.

  “I see you came prepared,” I said as I felt my own anxieties rise.

  There was still no answer from her as she worked at a fast pace and had all the tubes filled by the time Dr. Chavan returned. After gloving up, he began his part setting up the line, gently holding my right arm where the line was before. It was Dr. Strauss who left the room this time. Using the same rubber tourniquet as before, Dr. Chavan found a vein and inserted the needle requesting that I stay absolutely still as he used a roll of paper tape to secure it in place.

  “This will have to do until I can secure it with some Tegaderm,” he took a good look at my eyes and I saw his concern even more.

  “Your irises look like they are slightly red, with blood,” he said as he fiddled around in his shirt pocket to find a light that was now shined in one eye at a time. I witnessed the same redness in the irises of the man who attacked me in the stairwell of my apartment but not in Darin’s eyes. I knew this was a bad sign, another of many that pointed to only one thing.

  “Another symptom, isn’t it?” I said to him. He looked at me in a way that I could assume the answer.

  At that moment Dr. Strauss returned to the room. Dr. Chavan informed her specifically saying that it looked as if I had some intraocular inflammation and bleeding, which she double-checked for herself.

  “I don’t like the onset of these symptoms all at once,” Dr. Strauss announced.

  “Her blood pressure is declining from earlier, ninety over sixty-three. Oxygen levels are decreasing into the mid-eighties.” Dr. Chavan summarized everything they’d found in the last few minutes.

  “I’m about to become one, aren’t I?” I said as I swore under my breath.

  “I feel fine, seriously. I mean, I’m talking to you still. I’m able to think, listen and reason. I don’t want to harm anyone either,” I didn’t mean for my voice to quiver when I said “harm” but the fear was beginning to amplify itself again with this turn of events.

  “I think it’s time,” Dr. Chavan said to Dr. Strauss, who appeared to be thinking out some things.

  “We’re not even close to being ready yet,” she responded in a low tone. There were just three of us in the room but I could sense her words were particular.

  “Ready, for what?” I asked in between glances at the two of them.

  “Give her another dose of the antibiotic and I’ll go make some calls. She doesn’t need to be up either,” Dr. Strauss blurted in an even lower tone I could still hear. She left in a hurry without another word.

  “I was hoping we’d have more time,” he said under his breath, reaching into his lab pocket for the syringes I was getting all too familiar with. Like with the other times after the injections, I found myself becoming disconnected but this time I felt more afraid, which made me unable to relax completely. Unlike the feeling of floating away, my mind raced like a mouse in a maze coming to dead end after dead end in a frantic attempt to find a way out. My only exit would be safety and good health. I had just been given proof that physiologically I was dying; the decline in my bodily functions said so. Plus, I saw with my own eyes the undigested food I threw up to the vials of blood they’d taken and were now testing, just like before. I knew these tests would show that organs such as my liver were slowing down in its functioning just like the machine here that said my blood pressure, temperature and oxygen levels change. Feeling pitiful about my situation, I lay back in the bed pulling the blanket up to my shoulders and rested on my side, as best I could with the line in my arm. The doctor saw my worry but there was no more conversation between us. In his own distraction he made his exit, leaving me alone to my thoughts and cruel reality.

  While staring at the linoleum floor and the walls I expected to doze off rather quickly because that’s what had happened every other time I got a round of medications. Something felt different this time perhaps because being infected was one thing; however, in my case I’d have a longer amount of time to experience the symptoms. I was convinced I’d meet the same end; the destination was ultimate. Poor Ruthie and Darin had only hours to go through their transformation; I was given a week. It made no difference because in the end we’d be the same.

  It was just before ten according to the clock on the wall. I turned over to my left side, disregarding the discomfort and closed my eyes wondering when the next time I woke up how much worse I’d be. Would they try to suppress the virus further? Would I end up on a machine because I was the bosses’ niece and they’d try a little harder to save me? Perhaps instead, the friendly folks in security would convince my uncle to look out for the group and end my life in order to keep everyone else safe? While I was running all the exit scenarios through my head, I heard a swipe from the key card outside on the door. I was too busy doing the self-pity thing to turn over and look to see whom it was.

  Instead I just spoke out over my shoulder, “I’m okay, just trying to rest a little.”

  There was silence for about three seconds as the only sounds were of footsteps coming into the room but when a voice spoke up I could feel myself nearly float off of the fabric I lay on.

  “That’s good to hear, cause even the dead don’t rest these days.”

  I turned over faster than one would expect, and there was my Graham, standing next to Mia who was utterly delighted with her surprise for me. I somewhat kicked the covers from around my legs and forgetting about side effects, rolled out of the bed and started toward him where he hurried to grab my arms to help support my unsteadiness as far as the IV tubes would allow me go. We met just short of tearing the IV from my arm. I looked into his eyes and, acknowledging the infection, I gave him the longest hug anyone would imagine under the circumstances. He softly kissed my forehead and my cheek. I tensed a little, feeling scared for him, which he sensed. Feeling his arms around my waist and his strength was something like a payday of emotions I was long overdue for.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he quickly whispered as his hands went in a slow circular motion, caressing my back. I didn’t want to let him go, ever again. It was like he already knew what was going on with my eyes because the next thing he did was look into each one, studying them.

  “It doesn’t look too bad, does it?” I asked as I looked away, embarrassed. It sounded like I was asking his opinion about a shirt I was trying on or an unexpected pimple or something.

  “You can’t really see it, unless someone gets close to you. Those browns are still beautiful, don’t worry,” he said reassuringly.

  “I feel okay, but I’m scared. It’s not like what everyone else has. I should’ve been gone by now,” I said. I shifted my attention to Mia, who was still with us standing silently.

  “Thank you for bringing him to me! Did you gu
ys have to sneak up here or something?” I asked, peering around Graham but holding on steady to him. The tears were delayed but they fell one by one causing me to wipe my eyes several times.

  “You’re welcome and don’t worry about it. Of course he wanted to see you too, so much he was willing to climb up through the window,” Mia chuckled. “You two enjoy yourselves because we have to be out of here before the night nurse comes in to check on you in a few minutes,” she warned.

  “Have you seen my parents? Are they okay?” I turned toward him as he lifted my wrist to inspect the now sutured bite mark.

  “Not yet,” he replied. Right away he could see my disappointment. The place was only so big; even with the multiple buildings it was organized to where the employees were located only where they were needed and worked. There weren’t any people outside just strolling around, taking a walk. To be outside required some security, just in case.

  “It’s weird because I’ve been to this building and to two others since we’ve been here and there’s no sight of them. No one has mentioned them being here. People here would eventually know you and I are together and any relatives or acquaintances that would want to be reunited. Everyone knows one way or another, who’s with who,” Graham said of the staff here, referring to our relationship and my status.

  “Are they being good to you?” I asked.

  “Yeah, especially after the tests confirmed I wasn’t infected and they learned of my educational status. They ask you a bunch of questions when you first get here. Now I’m even pitching in with some of the agricultural stuff around here since they are concerned the food supplies will dry up eventually. Some of the rooftops are already being converted into greenhouses. They’ll convert two of the floors in one building as well. They’re talking about being here long term. You should see the stuff they are bringing in every day from God knows where,” he said.

  What he told me didn’t bring any comfort because I knew it wasn’t solving the main problem of whether or not I’d live to see those greenhouses thrive.