Checked (31 page)

“I understand,” I mumble. Dr. Blake warned me of this at our first appointment. But it’s okay—maybe we can delay the next part of our immersion treatment for a couple of weeks. Maybe we should even start the twelve days over once the medicine is working properly in my system…

“Since I already have your initial diagnosis from Dr. Lennox, and your consultation and medical examination paperwork from Dr. Blake, I can get you started right away.” Dr. Spencer makes some notes in my chart. “I have only a few standard questions for you first.”

Dear God
. I look down at my purse and pray he doesn’t use the same list of questions as Dr. Blake.

“Are you currently taking any other medications?”

“Nope—just a daily vitamin.”

“Any known allergies to medications?”

“Not that I know of, no.”

“Okay. Great.”

Already?

“Today, I am giving you a starter pack of pills. You punch out a pill every day for the next few weeks. The starter pack helps your body ease into the medication—you’ll notice that you are on a low dose for the first few days before you begin what will be your larger, standard dose.”

I nod. As usual.

Dr. Spencer excuses himself to go to a closet where he retrieves my starter pack. When he comes back, he hands me the medicine. He says that I should start tonight when I eat dinner because I might experience some painful side effects if I don’t take the pill with a meal. He also wants to see me in a few weeks to check on my progress and to write out a prescription if things are going well. Lastly, he says he’ll type up the information from this appointment and get it to Dr. Blake in a couple of days. I don’t bother to tell him that Dr. Blake will already know in a few hours. Instead, I thank him and tell him that I will call to schedule my next appointment.

When he turns to go back to his desk, I grab the emergency tissues from my coat pocket and use them to get out of his office, out of the door to the waiting room, and finally out of the building. I throw the tissues away in my usual trash can, go to my car, and drive home.

I DON’T HAVE MUCH TIME at home, but I try to make the most of it. I start by sending a text to my Unknown Number.

Can we meet tonight after I get off work? Just for a little—I have a lot of homework, but I have some stuff to tell you :)

Count. Send.

After downloading
Jane Eyre,
I make yet another attempt in my poetry notebook. No luck, as usual. Tonight is going to be a very long night if I’m actually going to get this portfolio done for tomorrow. And I will…because I never turn assignments in late.

I stop not writing poetry to grab an early dinner. Salad with croutons and dressing. Around four hundred calories. Plus one pill from my starter pack. Hopefully no calories there. At least none to speak of.

When I finish eating, I begin my thirty-three checks and then leave for work. My phone buzzes while I’m driving. I wait…not very patiently…to check it until I get to work. As soon as I pull into a parking spot, I yank my phone from my purse. One message from him.

Count. Open.

Sure. I’ll meet you at the writing center at 7:00 p.m. I have some results to show you…

Already
? Wow. Guess that’s where he was when I wanted to surprise him earlier.

Since work starts in three minutes, I don’t bother to ask what strings he had to pull for the super fast results. Instead, I hit reply and type.

See you then :)

Count. Send.

In to work.

MY HEAD STARTS TO POUND around 4:30 p.m. Fortunately, there are only a few people here. Brittany is sitting in her usual chair, but she hasn’t sent me any tickets yet. Neither have the other students.

I grab some aspirin from my purse and swallow the pills with a mouthful of saved up saliva. Resting my elbows on my desk, I prop my head up with my hands, trying to keep still, trying to shut down my brain. Every time a new song comes into my head, I try to squelch it, but it doesn’t work. Each song stops abruptly with that nasty sound you get when recording on a tape player, and then another song begins immediately.

{First note of a song. Nasty scratching sound. Another song. Scratch. Song number three. Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.}

Ugh.

After a half hour of scratchy music, I still don’t have any tickets. My head continues to pound, but I can’t concentrate on that anymore because I’m too worried about the hives starting to appear up and down my arms. They look (and feel) just like the ones I get when a cat is nearby. I really don’t think there is a cat in the writing center, and I haven’t been close enough to anyone’s clothing to have come into contact with any lingering cat hair.

My skin is really itchy though. Not just on my arms, but on my legs, my back, and my eyes. Especially my eyes. I can tell that they are starting to swell.
Great
—I don’t have any Benadryl with me.

My full out panic begins about ten minutes later when I not only start to feel dizzy, but I also notice my skin turning a shade of blue.

What is going on?

I close my eyes to try to stop the dizziness, but it doesn’t help. When I open them again, I can only see a blurry, jumpy mess of computers, chairs, and college students.

I try to blink my vision back to normal, but it only gets worse. After a few more blinks, I can’t even distinguish between the different items in the room. If I didn’t already know where I was, I would have no idea how to identify any of the objects in front of me.

Okay. Okay. Okay.
Gotta get this under control. Very slowly, very cautiously, I start to stand up, pressing my hands onto the top of my desk for support. Before I can even make my way to a full standing position, I feel my legs buckle beneath me, and I begin to fall almost in slow motion.

Voices yelling, a jumble of activity, and the hard, cold floor.

And then nothing.

I DON’T WANT TO OPEN my eyes. I don’t want to know what I am lying on, whose soft hand is gripping mine, or when the writing center installed loud siren sound effects. A slew of other questions flail through my mind as well:
Why is part of my face covered with some sort of plastic device? What is the material covering me? Are either of these items clean?

I hear voices above and around me, but I can’t quite catch what they are saying. Only one of the voices sounds vaguely familiar although I can’t put a face to it.

The rumbles of unfamiliar pitches and inflections join forces with my overall disorientation, and I’m thrown back into unconsciousness.

NOW I REALLY DON’T WANT to open my eyes. Sterile smell. Beeping noises. Cheap sheets under me. I know I’m in a hospital.

Please don’t let me have a gross roommate. Please let these sheets be clean. Please don’t stick any needles in me. Please don’t expose me to a disease. Please don’t expose me to a disease. Please don’t expose me to a disease.

My pleas suck up the last of my energy. I feel myself fading away once again.

I CAN FEEL AN IV in my arm. I try to open my mouth, to beg someone to remove it, but I can’t get any words out. I can’t pry my eyes open either.

“Stop fighting, Miss Royce. Please, stay still.” The somewhat familiar voice from the ambulance. “Miss Royce, it’s me, Brittany. Try to rest and save your energy.”

Brittany. From Computer 7. The voice from the ambulance. The soft hand holding mine on the way here.

“Th-th—” I try to get out some words of gratitude.

“It’s okay, Miss Royce. No talking right now. Just rest.”

If you want me to rest, get the needle out of my arm. At least cover it up so I don’t have to worry about seeing it, if I ever open my eyes again. Get this mask off of my face too.

Please. Please. Plea—

“CALLIE? CAN YOU OPEN YOUR eyes?”

{Cue Boston’s
“Amanda.”
}

“Callie. Try for me. Try to open your eyes.”

Eyes. Won’t. Open.

“Callie, Mom and Dad will be here soon. You are going to be okay. The doctors said you got here in time. That one of your students came with you.”

Please let me open my eyes. Please let me speak.

Please tell me where he is. Call him. Tell him I won’t be able to meet him. Tell him I’m here. Tell him to hurry.

“Callie, it’s okay. Stop trying so hard. Rest, just rest.”

“I’M HERE, CALLIE. ABBY WANTED to come too, but she was too young to be in the ICU. She sends hugs though.”

Hi, Mel. Please get this IV out of my arm.

“Can you open your eyes for me, Callie? The doctors say you are going to get through this. They say you should show some improvement once the medication starts to leave your system. Whenever that will be…”

Medication?

“Why didn’t you tell me you were starting medicine? Did Dr. Blake ask you to take it? He will have to really research other medications and allergic reactions if you are going to try another—”

Dr. Blake. Yes. Keep talking about him, Melanie. Where is he? When is he coming?

“—and I guess you still need more rest. Keep resting, Callie. I’ll be right here all night.”

Chapter 22

day seven

“GOOD MORNING, CAL. ARE YOU going to open those eyes for me today?”

I’m trying, Dad. I’m trying.

“Your mother has been in here with you and your sisters all night. She will be back in with Jared soon.”

Mom. Jared. Such a long trip to get here.
I’m sorry. I’m—

“Cal, stop struggling. You’ll be able to talk soon, I know it. Just sleep for now. We are all here with you.”

Thank you. Thank you. Thank—

Dad, where is he? Please go get him. Please go get him. Please go get him.

“ALL RIGHT, HONEY. MY SHIFT doesn’t end until morning so I’ll be in to check on you throughout the night. I’m going to push in a rollaway so your mom can stay with you and maybe get some sleep tonight. Sound okay, honey?”

Yes. Yes, thank you. Can you please get rid of this IV? Or at least cover it?

And please, can you tell me where—

Chapter 23

day eight?

“AND THIS IS CALISTA ROYCE. She’s been here the last couple of days. They are going to keep her in the ICU until she fully wakes up.” The nurse from last night. “Poor honey has been calling her doctor’s name all night.”

I have?

“The first time she heard it, her mom thought she was finally waking up so she came to get me. She kept saying ‘Aiden.’ I even heard it myself. But she was completely out, just talking in her sleep. Apparently, she kept calling for him all night. That’s what her mom said when she left to go get coffee a bit ago.”

“Who is her doctor?” A new voice. My next nurse?

“Well, Dr. Spencer prescribed her medication. But he is out of town again. She’s been calling for her therapist, Dr. Blake. Dr. Aiden Blake. He was in here two nights ago. Well, here at the hospital, not in here.”

He was? And he didn’t—

“The name sounds familiar. Isn’t he that hot, mega-serious one who was in here after his mom killed herself?”

What? She wha—

“That’s the one. And he was definitely all serious when he was in here two nights ago. He read her charts, paced around the waiting room, and kept glancing over at this room. Never went in though.”

Why? Why no—

“I heard him tell the on-call doctor that he’s going to transfer her to another therapist. Something about the whole situation being too much for him, too similar.”

“To the stuff with his mother?” The new voice again. “Didn’t she take all of her anti-depressants in one shot?”

“Yes, exactly that, honey. God bless her, she did.”

“Does he know that this was an accident, an allergic reaction?”

“He knows. He read her chart enough times to know every detail. He even discussed it with the doctor, asking repeatedly if she was going to be okay. It sounds like he’s going to call in to monitor her progress, but he wants her new therapist to take over right away.”

“So a new therapist might come in today?”

“Could be. Just log it if one does, like usual. Her family members are all in the log already. They’ve been in and out since she got here so…”

They keep talking, but none of it matters. He’s not coming. He’s not going to be my doctor. He’s not…

Chapter 24

should be day nine

“CALLIE, WHAT’S THE DEAL? WHY don’t you wake up already? If you don’t wake up soon, I’m going to go to your house and head straight for your bathroom.”

No, you won’t, Jared. I know you won’t.

I’m not even trying to open my eyes today.

Chapter 25

not day ten

“CALISTA HAS BEEN IN THE ICU for four days now. The swelling has gone down, and she doesn’t need oxygen anymore. We’re just waiting for her to open her eyes.”