THIS Is Me... (7 page)

  “You're in a hospital in Chicago, where you've been asleep for some time.  Everything's going to be fine though.  You're well, and you should recover fully.”

  “Recover from what?  Why was I asleep?” 

  Okay, that totally sounded like I was slurring my words or something.  I heard that.  I was all slurry and sleepy sounding.  It's like I'm drunk but not really.  Weird.  Maybe I'm just hearing myself oddly, like you do on an answering machine or something.  You know, you hear your voice but it doesn’t sound like your voice, or… oh! 

  This is very strange for me.  I know there's more going on- I
know
it.  I don't feel like I was asleep but I DO remember dreaming, which means I must have been asleep, right?  God, this is so confusing, and I already feel really exhausted again.
  “Are you feeling tired?  You seem to be having a hard time speaking at the moment.  Would you like to have a little rest?  I could come back in an hour or so, and we could talk more then, if you'd like.”
  “Okay, thank you, um, Doctor.”  Shit!  What was his name?
  “I'm Mack.  Your doctor and
friend
Mack.  Remember what I told you, Suzanne?  Do you remember me telling you my name a few minutes ago?  Do you remember me telling you I'm Mack?”
  “Yes, of course.  Um, do I call you Mack? Or Dr. Mack?  Is that your last name?  I'm sorry; I don't want to be rude to you.  What would you like me to call you?”

  Looking at me for a few intense seconds, the doctor seems to be thinking of what to say to me.  This is so weird.  I mean really, it's just a name.  What the hell is the problem here?  Is it because I'm talking weird and my voice is extra deep and sleepy sounding, and just totally weird in my head?
  “My name is Dr. Michael MacDonald, but you've always called me Mack.” 

  When?  When did I call him Mack?  Shit.  I think this guy is crazy.  I've never met him before in my life.  And, as if I'd ever call a doctor by a nick-name.  That’s just so tacky and disrespectful and juvenile.  I would NEVER do that.
 

  “Well, it's been a pleasure to meet you Dr. MacDonald.”  When he suddenly flinches, I think I'm in trouble for something.  Shit!  “Um, I'm sorry.  What do you want me to call you?”
  “Dr. MacDonald is fine, Suzanne.  Just relax.  I'll come back soon and check on you.  Is that alright?”
  “Sure, I guess.  Dr. MacDonald?”  Ugh, he flinched again. “Um, do you know where my mother is?  I thought she'd be here by now.”
  “She isn't here right now- she's out of town.  So don't worry about her for now.  Just rest, and I'll come back soon to speak with you.” 
  He totally looked like he was lying to me again.  This is so weird.  Dr. MacDonald got all red, and he gulped hard when he told me about my mother.  What the hell is going on?
  “Is everything alright with my mother?  You seem to be hiding something about her.  Did my mother say something mean to you?  If she did, I'm really sorry.  My mother can be mean sometimes.  Sorry if she was mean to you.”
  “Your mother wasn't mean to me Suzanne, so please don't worry about her.  She just isn't available right now- that's all.  I'll see you soon,” he smiles. 

  When he stands to leave my room I am totally relieved to be alone.
 

  Okay, Dr. MacDonald just left my room super quick.  It's like he wants to do something quickly, or report something quickly, or tell on me quickly about something.  Shit.  What did I do wrong?  Is he going to tell my mother on me?  I thought I was very respectful to him.  Dammit.  I'm totally scared that she's going to be mad at me when I see her.
  Trying to exhale again, I realize I'm holding my breath.  Why can't I just relax?  I'm really exhausted now and I'm more than ready to have a sleep, but I feel too nervous and tense.  I NEED to sleep, but I hate the feeling of my mother being mad at me.  It's even worse with her than when Marcus is mad at me. 
  Okay, time to sleep.  My brain is all fuzzy, and I feel like crap.  My stomach is all nauseous, and my hands are shaky, though I really haven't moved them much at all.  Actually, I've barely moved my body at all.  What the hell? 
CAN
I move my body?

  Okay, focus.  Move body,
move.
  Oh, my arms are moving a little.  Come on legs.  Move!  Oh good, they can move too, I feel it.  I can't really see it because my head hurts too much, and my eyes are getting super blurry from being tired, but I feel my legs moving, so that's good.  Ugh, I really do feel pretty shaky and nauseous, and kind of like I want to cry, which is strange as well because that's something I never do either.  I never, ever cry.
  Okay, enough.  Closing my eyes tightly, I'm just going to rest for a while, and then try to get up and out of this bed a little later.

  Good.  That's a plan.  Maybe when I wake up Marcus will be here and he can tell me why I'm even in the hospital.  I would really like to know what I did to end up in a hospital again.
 

CHAPTER 10

MAY 12

  Waking again I am absolutely exhausted because the people just won't stop around here.  The noise won't stop and the stuff won't stop.  There is never a moment of peace here.  I don't know how long this waking up has been, but I'm ready to rest again.
  Endless Doctors and Technicians and Nurses and Specialists have been in my room since I woke up.  There have been so many people in here constantly.  There has been so much talking in here.  There has been so much activity in here.  There has been so much of
everything
in this little room.

  Throughout all the noise, everyone has been asking the same questions, and everyone has been touching me.  Everyone has been in my face and it’s just too much for me.
  I don't want to talk anymore, and I don't want to be touched anymore.  I don't want my legs moved while I close my eyes, and I don't want my arms raised as I open my eyes.  I don't want to be lifted, and shifted, and rolled, and changed anymore.  I don't want to hear about my movements, and I don’t want my memory tested again.  I don't want to hear about myself anymore because I'm not that interesting.  Plus, I’m really not listening anyway.
  I'm humiliated and exhausted at once.  But no one will actually tell me what happened, or what I did wrong to end up here.  No one answers any of MY questions; they just expect answers to all theirs.  And back and forth we go. 

  They ask me a question which I answer, and then I ask them a question which they do NOT answer.  Well, I'm not talking anymore and they can’t make me.  I'm tired, and I want to be left alone. 
 

  Where’s Marcus?  Why hasn't he come for me?  Where is my mother?  Why hasn't she come to claim me?  Why am I here?  These are such simple questions really but no one will answer me.
 

                                              *****
 

  Waking, I know there's someone in here, again.  I know I'm not alone and I totally don't want to do this anymore.  Why can’t I just be alone?  I wish I could go back to my sleepless dreaming sleep again.  At least there I was alone in my head.  Well, except for all the talking and noise and stuff, I was alone.
  Opening my eyes slowly, I prepare for the newest person to invade my space.  Looking, I see the woman again with the atrocious Brooklyn accent.  Sitting beside me in a chair, she looks so happy to see me awake.  Ugh... here we go again.
  “Good morning, Suzanne.  How are you feeling?”
  “I'm
fine
.  Why?”
  “I'm just checking.  Why do you seem so agitated?  What's wrong?”
  “I'm not agitated.  I just don't know you, and you keep talking to me like I DO know you, and I don't.  That's all.  Why are you here again?”
  “I'm here because we're friends and I've missed you. And because I wanted to see you when you woke up.  I wanted to try to talk to you before the others arrived.”  The others?
  “Um, okay, I don't mean to be rude, but why do you keep saying that? I told you before that I don't know you.  I told you that before, like yesterday, or last night I think, but you keep saying that I do know you, but I'm not your friend.  I don't even know you, I'm sorry.” 

  Wow, I really do feel frustrated and tired and kind of angry at her or something.
  “Please listen to me, Suzanne.  I promise you DO know me.  You just have to remember me.  You know me very well and we're very close friends.  You stayed in my apartment in Manhattan.  We went shopping, and I even lent you my car, which I never lend to anyone.  We
are
friends- very close friends actually, I promise.  Just trust me, okay?”
  “I do apologize, but I
don't
remember you and I
don't
trust you.  Again, I don't mean to be rude, but would you mind if I had a little privacy?”
  “Oh god...
Please
Suzanne.  You sound like
her
again.  You are all polite and reserved, and actually kind of annoying sounding.”   

Seriously?
  “Can't you just tell me to leave you the fuck alone?  Or tell me to get the fuck out.  Or even tell me to fuck off!  Just please, tell me something!”  Wow. 
What?
  “I'm sorry, but I don't speak that way.  And I don't want to be rude to you, but please give me a little privacy.  Do you know where my husband is?”
  “Suzanne, you DO speak that way now if you want to.  You say ‘fuck’ now if you want to, and you say ‘shit’ a lot.  Actually, you mumble ‘shit’ all the time and it's very cute coming from you.  You say bad words
out loud
now, Suzanne.  You do, I promise.  You aren't like your old self anymore, I swear.  You are fun and silly and cute, and even a little sarcastic, thanks to me and Kayla.  You are
fun
Suzanne, and I miss you.  Do you remember any of this?”
  “I'm sorry-”
  “STOP SAYING
‘I'M SORRY’!” 
Flinch.
“Sorry.  I’m sorry, it’s just you worked too hard to stop saying sorry to everyone all the time.  You have changed, Suzanne.  You're really different now.  Do you remember?  Do you remember changing?  You aren't
her
anymore.  You are Suzanne now.”  Wow, as if I don't know my own name.

  Staring at me, this woman seems to be waiting for something.  What does she want from me?  Actually, she seems kind of crazy and confused.  I think she must be crazy.  She doesn't know me, and she doesn't know what I say or do.  She must be delusional, I think.  I wonder what I can do to get her out of my room.
  “Please, Suzanne… remember me.  Just try to remember.  I'm tied with the other Kayla as your second-place best friends.  We’re tied in second- me and Kayla.  We’re
your
two Kaylas.  Please remember me if you can- just a little.”

  When she bursts into tears, I think I feel bad for her.  She looks so lovely, but kind of gross when she cries.  I definitely feel bad for her because it's clear that she's TOTALLY insane.  I’m pretty sure I don't feel scared of her though, just bad for her.
  I wish I could help her.  She obviously needs help, but I'm not sure what to do for her.  Where is a doctor?  Maybe a doctor can get her out of my room.  Maybe a doctor can help her.  Maybe I should page a doctor to my room for her.
  “Um, excuse me, but do you have someone you can talk to?  Do you have a doctor who can maybe help you a little?  Maybe if you find your doctor he can help you find your friend,” I whisper, so she won't get mad at me again.
  “A doctor? 
You’re
trying to get
me
a doctor?  You have no idea how fucking funny that is under the circumstances, I realize.  But it IS quite funny.  I don't need a doctor Suzanne, but you obviously do.  You don't know anything, do you?”
  “I'm sorry, but I have no idea what's wrong with you, or what I've done to upset you.  I'm really trying to be nice here but you seem so sad and confused.  I just thought you could use a friend, or maybe a doctor to talk to so that maybe you won't look this sad anymore.”
  “I'm not sad, Suzanne.  Well
actually
, I'm devastated
,
but you don't know why, do you?  So really, my devastation is kind of a moot point.  I don't need a doctor, but I do have one should the need arise.  I do however need my friend back.  I need you, but you're not here with me are you?”  Holy shit!  This woman is nuts.
  “Okay miss, I'll get a doctor for myself, and maybe I can get a doctor for you too. Would you like that, um...?”
  “I’m KAYLA!  New. York. Fucking. KAYLA!!  Fuck, Suzanne, THINK!! 
REMEMBER
ME!!”
  Shaking, I'm at a total loss.  I don't know why this woman is here, and I don't know why she's so mad at me.  I don't know what I did to upset her and I don't know why she's still here.  What the hell do I do?  Lie!
  “Oh, I remember you now- of course.  You're my friend from New York who I visited in Manhattan.  I remember now.  We had fun shopping and driving around.  Thank you for coming to see me but would you mind if I had a little rest now?  Would you mind if I was alone for a few minutes?  I'd love for you to return another day, though.  Thank you for your friendship, um...”
  “
Kayla…
” she moans.  “My name is Kayla, but you always called me New York Kayla, or 'this Kayla' when in New York or 'that Kayla' when in Chicago.  I am your second best friend, tied with Chicago Kayla.  I. Am. Kayla.  I am
your
New. York. Kayla.”  Oh my god.
This
Kayla is certifiable.
  “I know that, I really do.  You're my New York Kayla.  I remember now.  Thanks for visiting me New York Kayla, but can I please be alone for a few minutes?  Would you mind, um, New York Kayla just giving me a minute or two alone?”  There, I think that was convincing.  Jesus, my heart is pounding again.
  “Sure, Suzanne, I'll leave you alone.  Have a little rest, and maybe when you wake up again you'll remember me.  Maybe after another rest, you'll remember us.  Go ahead and have a rest.”
  “Thank you New York Kayla and I do apologize for upsetting you, but that was never my intention.”
  “I know it wasn't your intention, Suzanne. It's never your intention to upset anyone, but you always do anyway.”
What?
  “It seems like every single minute with you is upsetting to those of us who love you, for those of us who care about you.  All you do, though NOT your intention, is upset us.  But please, don't apologize-
please
don't say ‘you're sorry’.  I hate it, and so does everyone else who loves you.  All of us who you can't remember hate it when you say you're sorry to us.”
  “Um, okay, I won't apologize anymore.  Thank you New York Kayla.  I'll try to be better next time we see each other so I won't upset you anymore.  Thank you, and I promise I remember you now.”
  “Sure you do.”
  “I do, New York Kayla.  I promise.”
  “
Well, Suzanne…
” she practically snarls at me.  “If you honestly remembered me you wouldn't call me ‘
New York
’ Kayla to my face.”  What?!  I swear to god, I don't get this woman.  At all.  “If you
really
remembered, you would know I am
just
Kayla when we're talking, unless I'm with the other Kayla, or when you're talking about us to someone else.  When talking to me I'm just Kayla- your
friend
Kayla.  To my face you just call me Kayla because it doesn’t make sense to call me
New York
Kayla to my face.”
  Shaking her head, and wiping her eyes
JUST
Kayla rises from the chair without looking at me.  Turning from me completely, she seems awful walking toward the door.  God, this woman is just so sad suddenly.  It's almost heartbreaking.  I really hope she gets the help she needs and I really hope she finds her real friend soon.  I hate seeing her leave looking so broken.
  “Bye, Suzanne. I'll see you later.  Um, I still love you...” she whispers from the doorway.