by Tia Hines
“Try twice.”
“Okay, two times, but I was caught up in a man and I’m not anymore. Just give me a chance.”
“Don’t you get it? I don’t need you anymore. It’s too late. As far as I’m concerned, I don’t have a mother or a father. I’m my own woman—me, myself, and I.”
“You’re a child lost, and it’s not too late. I’m still your mother.”
“Oh yeah? Well, where was my mother when her daughter was being mistreated by Auntie Linda? Or when she was crying to come home because her best friend’s brother raped her? Or where was she when her child was humiliated on the first day of school? Where was she when her best friend Greg died? Or, better yet, where was she when some man made her take off her clothes and feel her up like a fifty-cent ho? Huh? Where were you?” I yelled through my clenched teeth, sounding like one of the Charlie Brown adults. I took a deep breath, trying to keep from getting anxious. The corners of my mouth were beginning to throb.
“I, ah, I didn’t know you had to go through so much.”
“Humph!”
“But, Desire, it’s not like what it seems. I mean, I tried to come.”
Auntie Linda walked into the room. My mom stopped speaking and wiped her eyes.
Wow, I must be getting ready to die! What brings this visit?
“I hear you almost died,” Auntie Linda commented.
“I am dead,” I mumbled.
“Desire, don’t say that,” my mother interjected.
“Why not? I hate this world. I hate my life!”
“You’re just full of hate. Like you’re some kind of angel. You still don’t appreciate nothing, and that detention center obviously didn’t teach you anything either.”
I sat up in my bed and leveled the height. I was gonna have to be heard right now and deal with the pain.
“What? Am I supposed to appreciate that you beat me silly until I could take no more? You abused me for no reason. I was trying. I tried to get right, but you never let up.”
“I went a whole year letting you do whatever the hell you wanted, and you went wild. So don’t give me that mess. You deserved everything coming to you.”
I began breathing fast. “I didn’t deserve to be treated like shit.” I grabbed the pillow from behind me and hauled it at my aunt. Then I instantly grabbed my chest and the sides of my mouth from the excruciating pain.
My heart monitor started beeping.
Two nurses ran in as my aunt and mother just stood watching.
“Please, you all have to step out for a second,” a nurse demanded.
I watched as both my aunt and mother walked out, my mother reluctantly, but my aunt, strong, tall, and proud. She was probably wishing I would die, and I was wishing the same thing.
I only had to be stabilized though. I needed to be calmed down from getting worked up. The nurses advised me to get some rest as they injected me with more morphine to ease my pain. All visits for the remainder of the day were canceled. Good. I didn’t need anymore surprises anyway.
I woke up the next morning feeling refreshed but still in pain. A doctor was sitting in one of the chairs, I guess, waiting for me to awake.
“How are you feeling this morning?”
“In pain, but fine.”
“Where is your pain?”
“My face is throbbing, and my chest feels caved in.”
“On a scale from one to ten, how would you rate the pain?”
“Eleven,” I mumbled.
“All right. That’s not unusual for now. For these next couple of days, it’s going to be extremely sore. You were cut very deep. At times you may feel like hyperventilating because your heart may speed up unexpectedly. The knife just missed—”
“My heart, I know.”
“Yup, kiddo. You’re lucky.”
“Humph.”
“What? You don’t think so?”
I shrugged my shoulders.
“Come, on kiddo. You have much more life to live, having fun, playing games, going to college,” he rambled as he checked my vitals.
He put the stethoscope to my lungs. “Take a deep breath slowly for me . . . now breathe out. That a girl. One more time. Breathe in and breathe out . . . okay, great.”
“Are you having trouble breathing?”
“Not that I know of, but it hurts inhaling.”
“How does it feel to talk? I notice you’re talking through your teeth and not really trying to move your mouth.”
“Yeah. ’Cause it hurts.”
“It’s okay to do what you’re doing, but you should work on talking and talk regular to exercise your jaws. I’m also going to have you blow into this tube a few times a day, so I can measure how much air you are able to expel from your lungs. Eventually, I want your breathing to be effortless.”
“Great. When can I get out of here?”
“Let’s take it slow. First, let me give you another dose of meds to ease the pain. It will allow you to rest better.”
“What about my chest pain?”
“This will take care of that too.”
“So when can I leave?”
“Not sure, kiddo,” he answered, smiling and pressing buttons that administered more morphine into my IV.
“Once you are more stable, we’ll talk about releasing you and removing those bandages.”
“Why?”
“It’s procedure to ensure you are healing as expected.”
“If you say so.”
“Cheer up, kid. Everything’s going to be all right.”
“When? I’ve been waiting. I go from bad to worse. The story of my life.”
“How old are you?”
“Sixteen.”
“Oh, kiddo, you’re going to have many more stories to tell and surviving this one is a start.”
“Not if I don’t get AIDS first.”
“What was that?”
“You heard right. I got the disease.”
The doctor turned beet-red. “What disease?”
“The human immunodeficiency virus, better known as—”
“HIV,” he finished.
Boy, the look on his face.
“It’s okay. I’m good with it, you know.”
“No, no, I understand,” he said taking down some notes. “How do you know you have this?”
“Because I got tested.”
“Are you on medication for this? Why didn’t I know about this?”
“I was on meds, but since I was locked up, I stopped taking them. And nobody knows, not even my family. So please don’t say anything.”
“Don’t worry. Everything is confidential. Have you sought any counseling for this?”
“Why? For what? Like I said, nobody knows, and I plan on keeping it like that. I only told you because you started talking about surviving to tell stories.”
“I’m not saying spread the word to the world, but I’m concerned here about your mental health. And, your mom, she seems to think the—”
“She doesn’t know anything about me.”
“That’s fine, but from the little bit we have talked, I think it would be a good idea if you saw one of our mental health counselors. I’ll send someone up later in the day.”
“I’m not crazy.”
“No one said you were. Seeking professional help doesn’t mean you’re not sane. Let’s forget that for now. Get some rest and buzz the nurse if you need anything.”
I couldn’t wait for him to leave. He got to me. I didn’t want to show it, but he agitated me. I was feeling real violated right now. Why did I tell him about what I got? What was I thinking? He thought I was crazy. I wasn’t crazy, I was just living life, that’s all. Ha! Yup, just living life. My mother got a nerve too, trying to be concerned about me.
“Bitch, it’s too late. Ha! Ha!” I yelled out loud to myself. Damn, I just might be borderline crazy, either that or this morphine is messing with me.
I dozed off, and I rested for a few more hours as instructed. I tried to force myself
to eat the nasty tomato soup they gave me because I was hungry, but I spat it out once I wrapped my lips around the spoon.
Jen walked in right on time to see me in action too. “Ew! I think you’re supposed to eat that, not spit it out.” She smiled. She greeted me with a soft hug and a tap of a kiss on the cheek. “How you feeling?”
“In a little pain, but the nurse just gave me my dosage, so I should be cool in a minute.”
“I came yesterday, but they told me you couldn’t have any more visitors.”
“Oh yeah. My mom and aunt came unexpectedly.”
“I know. I saw them. How’d that go?”
“It went. They think I’m crazy, and they want me to see a shrink.”
“That’s not too bad.”
“Oh, here you go. You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I am on your side, but I ain’t gonna lie to you.”
“Whatever. Just forget I told you. I ain’t doing it anyway.”
“Why not? I think you should. You’ve been through a lot.”
“And what’s new? You don’t even know the half.”
“Exactly. And this is why it is a good reason for you to get help. Talk to a professional who can help you sort out your problems and hopefully get you to living a normal life.”
“I’m dealing with it on my own. Plus, I don’t have major problems.”
“Dee, you were taking pills. You—”
“You supplied me with them.”
“Hey, wait a minute. Don’t blame me, Desire. I got in on it for the money, not to use them.”
“Well, I used them. So what? It made me feel good like I’m feeling right now, and you’re blowing my high.”
“And you’re blowing your life away. Some therapy can do you good. You won’t need a drug to make you feel good.”
“Just leave it alone.”
“Desire, you’re my best friend . . . more like a sister to me. I don’t like how you’re living your life. I’m scared for you since this has happened.”
“What’s so wrong with how I’m living my life?”
“You’re popping pills, sleeping around, school is a joke, you been in lockup for the entire summer. You—”
“Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Spare me the lecture. Okay, Jen.”
“Desire, I’m serious.”
“And I am too. Now let’s talk about what’s going to happen when I come home.”
“If it’s not legit or helping you, then count me out. I’m through. I can’t.”
“You can’t what? You can’t help your best friend?”
“Help my best friend do what? Run herself into the ground? You ain’t in this hospital for a measly asthma attack or an annual checkup. You almost died from getting stabbed. Desire, are you not here with me? Take a look at your life.”
“Yeah. My life. Don’t knock the hustle.”
“What is with this stupid talk? You get stabbed and now you think you’re an O.G.?”
I grinned at her comment. “Jen, lighten up. What’s with you? I come home from lockup and you’re trippin’.”
“Hell yeah, I’m trippin’, Desire. You almost died. Doesn’t that scare you?”
I thought about it for a moment. “Nah, it doesn’t.”
“I’m not talking to a sane person here. I gotta go.”
I looked at Jen’s back as she turned it on me and walked out of my room upset. I couldn’t blame her for feeling the way she did, but she’d never have understood, best friend or not. I wanted to tell her the truth. Believe me, I did, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.
I needed to think. I was letting these people get to me. I didn’t need help. I needed to get out of here so I could get back on track. I was losing sight of my mission. These people, they’re getting in my way. I couldn’t have that.
I couldn’t even think right now. What was the number of people I’d infected? Damn, I didn’t know. But I knew this. I was feeling like I hadn’t even started yet. Okay, okay. Let me calm down. I was getting too excited. I needed to close my eyes for a minute. Then when I opened them, I was going to get up, get myself together, and check myself out of this joint. I got more people to infect.
Chapter 30
I woke up and saw a bunch of people in my room. I panicked. Oh shit. What they found out? Who told? I looked to see who was in here. Ms. Tanner was amongst the many, my doctor, my ex-probation officer, my damn deadbeat mother, and some lady I had never seen before a day in my life. What the hell is going on here? I was sure my mother had something to do with this. I sat myself up in the bed.
“Desire, you’re up? Glad to see you alert. How’d you sleep?” the doctor asked.
“What’s going on? Why y’all here? What y’all doing here?” I smelled trouble.
“I came to give you some good news,” the doctor announced. “And the others have to follow up on what I have to tell you.”
“What?” I asked, not really understanding him.
“Just bear with us. You’re going to be discharged in a few days pending your stability level, and that’s why Dr. Shuman is here. She’s a psychologist.”
So that’s who the lady is. They still think I’m crazy. I got their number.
“Good evening, Desire,” she greeted.
I didn’t greet her back.
“Desire, the woman is speaking to you,” my mother intervened.
“I’m not deaf.”
“Desire, these people are here to help you. You need to show more respect.”
“Everybody just get out! Get out! I’m not crazy! Nothing’s wrong with me! Just get out!” My breathing grew heavy.
The doctor ordered everyone to follow my orders, everyone except the shrink.
“Slow down with your breathing. It’s okay. Calm yourself. Breathe in and out, in and out slowwwwly,” my doctor coached.
I continued to breathe heavy, wanting the shrink to leave too. I didn’t want her to see me like this. She’d really think I was crazy. I wasn’t though. I was just in pain. There was a pain every time I took heavy breaths.
“Ouch!”
“Yes, kiddo, it hurts. That’s why I said breathe in and out slowly,” the doctor reminded.
I did as I was told, trying to bear the pain. It began to ease up. The breathing techniques actually worked.
“Good girl. Your vitals are stable now,” the shrink lady said.
“You have to keep your cool, kiddo. Try not to get yourself excited like that. The heavy breathing expands your lungs and leads to sharp, uncomfortable pains, which in turn raise your blood pressure. We need to keep your blood pressure stable if you ever want to get out of here.”
I nodded my head to acknowledge her advice.
“Does your mother’s presence bother you?” the shrink asked.
I didn’t answer, but took a heavy breath, which indicated the answer was definitely yes.
“Remember, breathe slow, Desire. I need you to be comfortable.”
I sat there reverting back to the good breathing techniques I had just learned. My doctor came over and did his routine checkup.
Dr. Shuman chatted with me about things other than my life, which was great, and I actually liked the conversation. She didn’t question me about my feelings, or the reason why I was in the hospital at all. It was just general conversation. She talked the entire time the doctor did his thing. Then they both left together.
The doctor assured he’d be back in an hour to check up on me. The shrink mentioned nothing about coming back at all. I thought she got the impression that I was sane, and not crazy, like those other miserable people thought I was. At least I was hoping I left that impression. That was the plan.
“Hello,” a nurse barged in, interrupting my thoughts.
“Hi.”
“I’m here to remove your bandages.”
“Completely?” I asked excitedly.
“Yup, completely. Your wounds need to breathe. I’m going to need you to bear with me because this may hurt a little. If yo
u need a break, just give me a sign by raising your hand.” She started with the bandage on the left side of my face.
Hurt a little? This joint is excruciating. “Erghhh-hhh,” I groaned, raising my hand. Breathing heavy and feeling the sharp pain in my chest, I started my breathing techniques.
“Wait, let me get you another dose of pain medicine.” She pressed the button calling the nurses’ station. “Bring me twenty milligrams of Roxanol for patient Jones.”
The nurse arrived in no time with the Roxanol.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“A pain medicine equivalent to morphine. It’s just a little stronger than morphine. I’m just going to recline your bed to avoid you becoming nauseated.”
The nurse let me lay for a few minutes before resuming with taking off my bandages. This time the process was smooth sailing, and I was definitely high.
“You’re all set. I have a mirror, if you want to take a peek at yourself. You seem to be healing pretty well.”
“Yes, I’d like to see.”
The nurse handed me a mirror, and I looked at my face. This wasn’t me. It couldn’t have been. I looked so different. I looked ugly. I looked deformed. My face looked distorted. Who’s going to want to sleep with me now? No, this can’t be. I can’t leave here with my face looking like this. I threw the mirror at the wall across the room and heard the glass break on impact. The nurse backed up a bit.
“I know it looks bad now, but that’s only because your wounds are still very fresh. Don’t worry, sweetie. Everything will be okay.”
“Fuck that! Do you see my face?” I yelled.
“Sweetie, calm down. It only looks like that now because your face is still swollen and the stitches have not dissolved.”
“I look ugly,” I cried.
I was crushed. I certainly didn’t expect to look in the mirror and see what I saw. My face was pushed to one side like I had suffered a stroke. On top of that, my face was swollen like a balloon, and I had this long line of stitches. My lips looked like I had collagen injections, and the corners of my mouth looked like the stitching on a football. I looked just like Frankenstein.
“Calm down. Let the medicine relax you.”
Again, I started my breathing techniques.
“Hey, can I talk to her for a second?”