“WOOHOO!”
Stacy came running back in.
“What’s wrong?” She sounded anxious.
“I can see red again. I really can. I’ve got red Jell-O and it looks like red Jell-O.”
“I do believe we told you it would come back. I’m not a total quack.”
“No? So what are you?”
“I’m the big, bad wolf who’s gonna get you if you don’t eat the red glop and get ready for your tests.”
Stacy left the room with a grin and I celebrated the return of my artist’s eyesight with two cups of red Jell-O, some apple juice, and a quick shower with no bandage change needed.
I had just picked up my second book from the library cart choices when my ride arrived. A young man in maroon scrubs (I could see shades of red, I was in bliss) brought a wheelchair and a blanket. He introduced himself as Clint, admitted his father liked the actor a bit too much, and took me off to my first scan.
I WAS ALLOWED to go back to my room for lunch before I was taken for what I was told would be the last series of tests for the day. So far, I’d had a CAT scan with dye contrast, some sort of an MRI, and of course, copious amount of blood drawn.
Clint was back; he had been my ride all day. For some reason, it was insisted that I ride in a wheelchair for the tests. It made no sense to me as I was allowed to walk around with Kerstin but I rolled with it. Yeah, bad pun but I get the laughs where I can.
“What’s next on the list?” I asked Clint.
“I’m supposed to take you to ultrasound. Not sure what they are scanning but I’ll be back for you when they get done.”
“Ultrasound? I know I’m not pregnant so I wonder what that’s about.”
“Hey, at least it isn’t a mammogram. I hear those suck.” Clint leaned forward to whisper in my ear. “My mom told my brother and I that if we ever treated women badly, she would make sure that our, you know, guy parts were squeezed in a vise like a mammogram.”
“No wonder you’re such a nice guy. Good mom.”
“Yeah, she’s pretty great but she won’t take any nonsense. That’s for sure. My brother was a tough teenager and by the time I was hitting those years, she had dealt with just about everything under the sun.” He stopped talking as he took a turn into a doorway. “This is it, last stop, ultrasound. Let me go check you in with the admin.”
He made sure my brakes were locked and took the paperwork over for me. I wasn’t sure but I was almost certain he was a shifter. There was something about him. I knew that the clinic at The Center employed plenty of humans but I suspected that not too many of them made it to the shifter floor. Even for transportation.
“You’re all set, Ms. Monroe. I’ll get paged when you’re almost done so I can be here when you’re out. I’ll get you back to your room and you can have some peace and quiet for a while until the docs get the test results in.”
I thanked him as he left. He seemed like a nice young man who enjoyed his job. That wasn’t my usual experience with orderly and transportation folks in hospitals and I was grateful. The whole day had me on edge. I could feel an energy humming in me that was unusual and while it felt good in some ways, I was still unsettled.
Another few minutes passed before someone came and wheeled me back to an exam room. I was told to relax in the chair and a tech would be in to see me shortly. Finally, I shifted around in the wheelchair so I could get a bit more comfortable. I decided that it wasn’t working and got up and walked to the regular chair by the wall.
The door opened and a young woman, perhaps in her mid-twenties came in.
“Hi, Ms. Monroe, right?”
“Yes?”
“Great, I’m Heather and I’m your ultrasound tech for the day. Why don’t you hop up on the table? Please remove your pants first. Leave the hospital gown in place and feel free to leave your socks on as well. I’ll step out and give you a moment.”
I did as I was asked and just after I got settled on the paper-covered table, a brief knock sounded. “I’m ready,” I announced, and the door opened to reveal Heather.
“Good. Now, I have a few different areas to do today. Have you had an ultrasound before?”
“Yes. I had one for an exam years ago. Cold gloppy gel, lots of pushing with the wand thing, some discomfort, right?”
“Well, the gel is warmed but other than that, pretty much that exactly. I’ll give you the choice, work my way up or down?”
“Down I guess.”
“Okay, let me get you to move up a bit and then we can start.”
She did some things with her machine, got the gel and gooped it on my lower chest. Then the wand came into play. I think the damn wand hit every area around my ribs.
Heather had covered my lower body with a blanket before we started so at least I wasn't cold but the gel cooled off quickly and started to feel too much like slime.
“Done with that section. Here’s a towel, do you want to wipe it off or shall I?”
“I’ve got it, thanks.”
Once I was dry enough, she took the towel and tossed it in a hamper. She pushed some buttons and did some tech stuff, and then the gel was back but this time on my abdomen.
“I’m sorry, this is the more uncomfortable portion. I’ll be as gentle as I can but there’s a lot to look at in the abdomen.”
“I understand. Do what you have to and I’ll cope.”
I decided to try and think through some ideas I was hoping to work on once my laptop was delivered later in the day. I was able to focus, and by the time Heather announced that she was done and handed me a couple more towels, I was happy with the rough outline I had prepped for my next book. I had two more books due under the adventure series and it was time to start the next one.
I took the towels and wiped myself down as best as I could. I tossed the towels in the hamper and waited for instructions.
“That should be it, Ms. Monroe. Clint will be in after I give you a moment to get your pants back on. Thank you for your cooperation.”
“Wait, can you tell me what you saw?”
“No, I’m sorry. People ask me that all the time but the truth is, I’m trained to run the machine and ensure clear images for the doctors to interpret. I wouldn’t think to offer any information I wasn’t certain of to a patient.”
“Got it, it was worth a try. Thanks for your help.”
She left the exam room and I got my pants back on and opened the door back up before settling into the wheelchair. Moments later, Clint was back and whisking me to my room.
I’d been back about an hour when Stacy stopped in. She looked tired but she had my laptop case over one shoulder and was pushing the rolling computer that the nurses used to track patient information. Usually the nurses left it right out in the hall then put information in it. Sometimes they brought the whole thing in the room but always faced it so that I couldn’t see it. This time, Stacy positioned it so that I could see it.
“Afternoon, Tori. I have your electronic baby for you. It’s fully charged but the power cord and anything else that looked important from your workspace was packed up too. It’s all in the bag.”
“Thanks, I’m so glad to see you and it. I’ve been outlining today and I’m ready to get back to the next book.”
“Care to share?”
“Um, not really. I write under pen names, two different types of work. I’ve never made appearances, done readings, or included pictures on the jacket cover.”
“Secretive, huh? Works for me. Actually, that’s good that you’re able to keep secrets like that. It’ll make settling into your new life a lot easier if you aren’t used to sharing everything with everyone.”
“About that, I did have a question. What about my parents? Do I have to keep this from them? I’ve always told them just about everything.”
“We’ll play it by ear. That’s the best I can offer for now. I do have some positive news for you. Preliminary reports are in from your scans and blood work from the morning. Looks like you’ve
healed enough and completed just about everything that needed to adjust internally. I’m waiting for the report on the ultrasound but I suspect that dinner will introduce some flavor and texture back into your life.”
“Thank you. That was fast. How’d you get results that quickly?”
“As I said, it’s preliminary and I read the scans myself along with a colleague from the various departments. Ultrasound should be in the system about now. Let me give it a check.”
Stacy logged on to the rolling computer and brought up what I assumed was my chart. There were a bunch of screens to click through before she found what she was looking for and turned to show me.
“Okay, I was right. Real food tonight. I sent a message to dietary just now. It won’t be spicy or tough to digest just yet but it will be better and improve every day as your body gets used to digesting real food again. Can you see the screen?”
I nodded and she continued.
“If you look over here, I did a split screen. The left is what a normal human digestive system would look like. On the right is your scan from this afternoon. Can you tell me what you see?”
“A bunch of black and white blobs? I’m a writer not a doctor, sorry.”
“That’s all right, I was just curious. Over here is the human stomach comparison. Over here, this is your stomach. Do you see that pinched in bit?”
“Yes, is that the problem?”
“Well, it’s why you had the bland diet but now it’s done adjusting. Your stomach formed a second chamber to help you digest roughage that you might eat when in deer form.”
“Whoa. So you guys were serious. This is either real or you’ve resorted to manipulating images to keep up the charade.”
“To what end? I know it’s all been confusing and you have questions but Tori, think of this from another perspective. What would any of us have to gain by tormenting someone with tales of shifter species and various viral issues? There’s no profit in it so it would have to be for some kind of masochistic fun. Does anyone you’ve talked with here strike you as the kind of people you think would do that to someone? Scare them beyond reason for fun?”
She hadn’t raised her voice, however, Stacy was sounding frayed around the edges and I could tell she was getting impatient with me.
“It isn’t that I don’t believe, exactly. Well, more that I can’t punch holes in your story at this point, nor can I find a motive. You have to admit, from my perspective, this is all kind of nuts.”
“I get that and I’m sorry. I was out of line. I’ve been putting more hours in the lab. I’m trying to see if there is a way to reverse this for you. I can’t seem to find one. Tori, I’m sorry. One of the goals of my research all along has been to find a way to keep the virus from infecting accidently exposed humans if possible.”
“Stacy, I appreciate it but I already figured out it was too late for me. Whatever this is, it’s in me and I’m trying to accept it. I might get snarky at times or focus on little details instead of the big picture, but it’s just how I cope. One detail at a time until I have a chapter. Enough chapters and suddenly I have a book. Before you worry, I’m seeing Kerstin later and I have a list of things to cover with her. Questions, you know?”
“That’s good. She’s a great person to talk to when things are jumbled up. I’ve seen her do amazing things with people. You have a support system here, Tori. We won’t let you go through this alone. I promise.”
“Thanks. So, changing the topic, can I lose the IV port and get out of this room?”
“Yes. Actually, I have time to help you get moved over to our interim housing section.”
“Do I want to know why there is interim housing here?”
“It’s in part for people like yourselves. Also, sometimes families bring their teens here from long distances away for their training and they need a place to stay. Visiting scientists and doctors use the facility, and we occasionally host seminars and other events. Think of it as a cross between assisted living and a hotel. There are trained medical staff kept available, as well as service staff to help with getting food to our guests and assisting with other matters like procuring toiletries or getting laundry done.”
“Sounds good. Let’s go.”
“I’ll send someone for your clothes and other items. I can walk you over now if you’d like. I got you a one bedroom apartment with a small den. It can be turned into a studio if you wish. Or there are other areas with lighting that can be made available if you want to paint.”
“I’d need my supplies from my house.”
“That can be arranged.”
“I think I’ll wait. I do have to write my next book and I don’t accept art commissions. If I’m here long enough to get the urge to do more than draw, I’ll let someone know. I would insist on going back to my house to get the supplies with someone. I don’t like people messing with those supplies. Would that be allowed?”
“I’m sure we can figure something out. Shall we head over to your new digs?”
“Gladly.”
I HAVE TO make certain I tell this next part correctly because the technology blew me away. I don’t pretend to understand how they do it but it was amazingly flexible. The apartment section, whatever I thought it was called, was far more than temporary housing. It was set up in a way that allowed whomever was in charge of such things to reconfigure the walls and space with very little effort. The walls were literally moveable. Like Star Trek Voyager fan fiction I’d read online. You don’t like the shower? We can swap it out or add steam. Prefer a large soaking tub? Can do, no issues. Apparently, there were different sized spaces and they were normally kept in certain configurations. However, they could be altered to fit the needs of those staying in them. Based on being one person, I was allotted so much space. If I chose a smaller bedroom I could have a larger den. If I chose no den and a smaller bedroom, I could add a dinette, a larger living area, or even a tiny kitchen. I chose to have food delivered or to find the dining facilities and kept the den. I had a large enough desk there for both writing and sketching materials. I could control the temperature and if I asked for it, I could have slim screens put on the walls to simulate window views. In short, this place was advanced.
I was enjoying myself with my laptop. I’d been able to clear out some e-mails, and reassure my agent that I was alive and well but had been offline for a bit due to illness. My editor for the lesbian romance novel had sent back my edits and other than a few minor changes, it was done. I made the changes, saved it and sent it back. I apologized to her for the delay but she informed me via a return e-mail that the publisher had already informed her that I’d been ill and she hoped I was feeling better.
With e-mail cleared, it was time to start my full outline. I’m one of those odd writers who use both the outline method for my adventure books and the write-organically-by-the-seat-of-mypants approach for my lesbian works. It isn’t that one is more or less important or effective than the other. Simply put, adventure stories take more details and tidbits of techno information that I have to have just right. My lesbian works are in the feel good beach read category. For me, that means a more pure writing joy. I can let the characters lead me where they wish. I enjoy writing both but in some ways, it can be compared to having a split personality. Yes, I noticed the irony since I would apparently be learning to become an animal as well as continue my human life. Splitting myself again it seems.
I lost track of time as I worked on my outline. That happens to me a lot when I’m in a creative space. Time vanishes for me and I get lost in the art or the story. Today, that meant that I was startled when the doorbell rang to my temporary digs.
I scrambled to answer the door, lest whomever was on the other side think I wasn’t where I was supposed to be. I admit, there was still fear. I had no reason to suspect anything was not as it appeared to me. As I opened the door, I saw Mike from dietary with a hotel-style food cart.
“Ms. Monroe, I’ve been told the good news that all is well and yo
u can start getting back to a regular diet. We’re starting slowly, but at least you get to chew.”
I couldn’t help but exchange a grin with him. He seemed so happy to bring me something other than mush. I opened the door wider and motioned him in.
“I’ll eat in the living room. Maybe I’ll turn on the television or something. Hey, isn’t this part of The Center underground too?”
“It is. We run cables down to the various areas to provide cable and Internet service. When you’re done, you can either leave the tray where it is, or put it out in the hallway. Are there any foods you truly dislike or are allergic to that I should be aware of for meal planning?”
“I’m not fond of overly spicy things but other than that, I’m good. No menu to circle?”
“If you’ll allow me, I’d like to surprise you tomorrow. I would like the chance to show you a bit more of what my kitchens can turn out. Would that work for you?”
“I suppose so, sure. Just make sure I have to use teeth.”
“I shall. I’m glad your recovery is going so well. Let me know if you need anything. I’ve been assigned to help you transition to meet your new dietary needs. My card with my extension is on the tray. You’ll find a house phone in your bedroom and den. It only dials within the complex so you can just dial the extension.”
“Thank you, Mike. I have a feeling we’ll meet at some point to discuss those dietary needs?”
“Yes, but for now you have enough going on. I’ll start guiding you with what I supply and I can adjust based on your feedback. Expect to see me most days for now. If you find yourself peckish later, either call the main switchboard or check the cabinets in here. I did stock them with some healthy snacks and the cabinet under the sideboard actually holds a small fridge with beverages and snacks.”
“Amazing.” I quickly peeked in the areas he indicated. There was a nice selection of sweet, salty, and crunchy items from nuts to veggie chips, and even popcorn. The small fridge held some fruit and a variety of beverages. I’d already spotted the two-cup coffee pot with pouches of coffee, which I didn’t drink, and tea, which I loved.
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