Senior Year, '94. Megan B. March

Senior Year, '94 - Megan B. March


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you would’ve figured it out since there wasn’t a condom or wrapper in the trash.”

      “Are you kidding me?” I eyed him angrily. “One, I didn’t look. I was a little pre-occupied! Plus, that could’ve just meant you lied about that, too, and that we hadn’t used one.” I turned away from him and put my hand to my forehead. “Maybe you should just go, Nate.”

      “Yeah, I guess,” he muttered as if in defeat. It had become pretty clear that neither of us had any more to say.

      Hearing Nate move toward the front door behind me, I turned to the side and almost instantly buckled as a searing pain ran through my abdomen.

      “Fuck!” I gasped, holding my stomach and carefully easing my body down to the floor.

      “What’s wrong, Mia?” Nate was at my side, hovering over me and trying to help.

      “I don’t know, something’s wrong! Shit that hurts!” I gasped between clenched teeth. The pains I had been having were coming full circle. Why didn’t I get it checked out?

      Putting his hands to my shoulders and helping me to my feet, Nate walked me over to the couch and insisted on taking me to the hospital. He told me to stay put while he went outside to get the truck’s engine started and the heater going. I wasn’t in any shape to protest and continued to cry out in agony as the pain worsened and jolted through my body. In no time Nate came rushing back in, picked me up and carried me out, setting me in the passenger side of the truck where I automatically curled up. Nate firmly closed the door before running over to his side, and in a flash he backed out of the driveway and threw the truck in gear.

      Ten minutes later we pulled up to Emergency at the hospital and a nurse arrived to help me from the truck. Nate jumped out to help her put me in a wheelchair, and then the nurse wheeled me through the sliding glass doors, into the reception area, and through another set of doors labeled: No Admittance without Authorization. I tightly closed my eyes as another jolt of pain seared through my abdomen, and before the doors closed I thought I could hear Nate pleading for them to make me better. Not hearing anyone answer him, I felt the chair move faster until it finally stopped beside a lone bed behind a panel of curtains. Two nurses rushed over to help me onto the bed and immediately began stripping me of my clothes. My tense body was making that difficult, but when I tried to relax the pain was worse. The nurses began asking questions that I couldn’t quite hear, and a doctor made his way over to look into my eyes with a bright light, asking questions of his own and trying to get my attention. I just stared at them all as darkness closed in around me.

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      Doctor Brackett. Doctor Richard Brackett. Please come to the first floor nurses’ station.

      The distant voice of a woman entered my conscious and slowly became louder, calling out names and requests as slow beeping sounds went off around me. Gently my eyes fluttered open, taking in the blurry surroundings, but not really seeing anything. I closed and opened them again definitely seeing more. My eyes shifted from one corner of the room to the other, taking in lighted medical machines, a television, two chairs, and the crisp white hospital bed I was lying in. Taking a hold of the metal bed rail attached to the bed, I attempted to roll myself over but gave up when I felt a tight pinch coming from the skin of my arm. Looking over at it I could see an IV line taped to the inside of my forearm, which could have easily come out if I had kept on pulling. Stiffly I felt around with my free hand and pulled the length of the IV line out from underneath my body where it must have ended up while I was unconscious. More slack in the line made it possible for me to roll myself over, but in doing so I felt a pain in my stomach much like the ones that had forced me to the hospital in the first place. Stopping short and muttering every swear word I knew, I carefully rolled onto my back, taking in long, deep breaths. Why am I sore? And why does my stomach hurt so much? My appendix? I thought about pulling my hospital gown apart to look, but just then I saw the door open and someone come in. Squinting my eyes, I tried to make out the blurry face.

      “Hey, you’re awake!” Nate’s familiar voice was jovial. He came over and pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down.

      “What are you doing here?” I croaked. I seemed to remember we had been fighting, but recalled nothing specific. “What happened?”

      “I brought you here, don’t you remember?” Nate gave me a questioning look and then softened. “You really shouldn’t try to move. If you need something, I’ll get it.”

      “I’m thirsty, I guess. How long was I asleep?”

      “A long time. Today is Monday and it’s after noon, almost one o’clock,” he said after checking his watch. “I’ll go get the nurse and let them know you’re awake.” He got up and went out into the hall.

      Monday? It’s really Monday? The last I knew it was Sunday morning.

      About five minutes later, Nate returned with a male nurse dressed in turquoise scrubs who checked my vitals and poured water in a cup, putting a bendable straw in it before handing it over to me.

      “You look good, vitals are right where they should be,” the nurse said, smiling. “How do you feel?”

      “My stomach hurts like hell,” I whispered, taking a sip of water.

      “Let me check your chart and see what the doctor has written about pain killers.” The nurse picked up a clipboard from a hook screwed into the wall, slowly running his finger down a paper fastened to it. He stopped to read something before hanging the clipboard back on the hook again. “Your doctor has left orders to administer a painkiller through your IV.” He then smiled. “That means that you won’t have to take a big awful horse pill by mouth.” He took a syringe out of his pocket and plugged it into the vessel in the IV line. “Alright, you should feel better shortly. I’ll go get the doctor.” The nurse touched my arm briefly and then left the room.

      “Did my appendix burst?” I asked Nate.

      “No, no, I don’t think so. I don’t know what’s wrong with you and they won’t tell me because I’m not immediate family. I was going to call your parents, but I didn’t know your dad’s information and your mom’s is unlisted. People here asked about guardianship and I told them you were emancipated last year.”

      I took another sip of water and let the cool, crisp liquid swirl around my dry mouth. Seeing that the cup was near empty, Nate asked if I wanted more and filled it back up after I let him know that I did. Just then the door opened and another familiar voice greeted me.

      “Hi there, Mia, how are you feeling?”

      “Dr. Mulland? Are you on call today?” I tried making sense of why my gynecologist would be making a visit and why she was looking at my chart. Dr. Mulland then smiled and nodded toward Nate before walking over to stand beside the bed and take my pulse.

      “Mia, your friend brought you in before things got really bad for you.”

      “Did my appendix burst?” I asked, not knowing what else could come on so fast.

      Dr. Mulland looked at me and then Nate. “Nate, can you excuse us for a few minutes?”

      Nate gave the doctor a nod before looking at me and making his way out the door. Before saying another word, Dr. Mulland stepped over and pulled Nate’s empty chair closer to the bed and sat down. “No, honey, it wasn’t your appendix.” She took a deep breath and then stated matter-of-factly, “You had a fairly good-sized ovarian cyst that ruptured.”

      “What?” I was stunned for a few seconds before going on. “I … I had no idea I had a cyst. Aren’t you supposed to feel a lot of pain when you have large cysts?” My mind raced to the times I felt slight pains in my abdomen, but they were never anything major so I always ignored them. I was about to say something to the doctor, but stopped when I saw the look on her face—she had more news to give me.

      “There’s something else…” she paused and regarded me for a beat and then continued, “you were about six


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