CHAPTER 4: THE DOCTOR IS IN
"So, who do you like?"
It was always like hitting your head against a brick wall trying to get this kind of information out of Angela. The girl could give me the square root of pie but when it came to girl talk she was absolutely hopeless. Angela would always sidestep the questions by saying things like: 'Oh, Jessica, do we have to do this now?' or 'I don't know… why?' or even 'Why? Who do you like?' It would get so frustrating. In elementary school, it even got to the point where I would assign her people to like if she couldn't give me a straight answer.
Today was a very much like all those other nights back in our elementary years. Angela and I were camped out on the floor of her living room watching the same old chick flicks for what must have been the seven hundredth time and gossiping over a bowl of our favorite homemade nachos. And, like all those other nights, I was opening my soul up to Angela telling her all about Edward and how he totally had a thing for me and how Lauren was so obviously jealous while she sat there and revealed absolutely nothing.
"Come on, Angela. There has to be someone." I was practically begging. "Who is it?"
"Oh, Jessica, I don't know. Do we have to do this now? Why? Who do you like?" You have got to be kidding me!
"Edward. I like Edward. And I've sat here and told you all about it for an hour but you won't tell me anything! Angelaaaaaaaaa. This isn't how a healthy friendship works! We need to be honest with each other."
"But Jessica, I never asked you about Edward you just told me everything on your own."
"That doesn't matter Angela. I still want to know who you like. Is it one of the other Cullens? Is it the blond one, Jasper?"
"No." Omigod. I never really saw Emmet as her type. "And I don't like Emmet either so get that idea out of your head." It kind of creeps me out how well this girl knows me sometimes.
"You have to admit the Cullen brothers are totally gorgeous though, right?"
"Well, yeah… but their dad is way cuter." OMG! I can't believe Angela just said that. I mean she used the word 'cute' but still!
"I know! He's such a babe!" Wait! Hold the phone and back it up a second! "When did you see Doctor DILF?"
"Well my dad was trying to relive his youth the other day so he rented this motorcycle. Let's just say it didn't go so well. He dropped the bike, and broke his wrist. So my mom and I had to drive him to the hospital because he was going on about how he was never going to regain function in his left hand. It ended up only being a hairline fracture but Dr. Cullen was very professional. We even got talking about the use of modern medicine versus herbal remedies. He's really nice."
"You spoke to him?"
"Well, yeah."
"And he works at the hospital?"
"In the ER, yeah. Jessica are you okay?"
I was better than okay. I had just formulated the greatest and most genius plan known to man. Well, next to today's seduction of Edward Cullen. He was so distracted by my charms he didn't even notice when I walked into Mike's locker. It had been a total success. However, this plan had the potential to be just as successful and equally as brilliant. I was going to hurt myself. I'd have to get Angela to help me. We would have to make it look like an accident but otherwise it didn't seem too difficult. I'd get hurt just enough to land me in the ER and then BAM! Doctor DILF would come to my rescue and I would get to look at him and maybe even speak to him and it would be awesome.
I jumped up and began pacing around the room trying to think of an injury that would get me in the ER but not interfere with my sports or my social life.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Um, Angela. If I… hypothetically… dropped something on my toes and they broke… do you think it would really hurt?"
"Well, I'm sure it would hurt but-"
"And I could still play volleyball, right? Even with a couple broken toes… hypothetically?"
"Maybe… I guess so but… Jessica what are you talking about? Have you gone completely insane? Did you hit your head or something while I wasn't looking?"
Suddenly a light bulb went off in my head. Angela was a genius and she didn't even know it. A concussion could get me into the ER and would be gone in no time. It wouldn't be messy or hugely painful (or so I thought) and it would be pretty easy to do.
"Come with me!"
I grabbed Angela by the hand and pulled her over towards the stairs leading down to her basement. Everything was planned out in my head. I just needed Angela to join me.
"I need you to push me down the stairs."
"What!?"
"I need a concussion."
"And the best way to get one is for me to push you down the stairs?"
"Yes!"
"Why do you need a concussion?"
"So I have a reason to go to the ER."
"But that's ridiculous!
"Look I'm not asking for your opinion I'm asking for your help."
"I'm not going to push you down the stairs!"
"Why not?"
"Because you could get hurt far worse than a concussion. What if you hurt your neck? Or broke a bone? Or your face?"
She waited a moment for the last one to sink in. My face. Angela had a point. Maybe getting someone to throw me down the stairs wasn't the best way to get a concussion. It was far too risky. Only now I was standing at the top of the flight of stairs with Angela, in perfect health, and no ideas on how to visit Dr. DILF in the ER.
"Fine. I won't throw myself down the stairs…" I grunted.
Angela threw her arms around me which was her way of saying 'You're acting slightly normal again. Maybe you don't need psychiatric help.' Regardless, I was in no mood for her pitiful hugs and ended it quickly. I may not have been stupid enough to throw myself down a flight of stairs but that didn't mean I couldn't find another way to hurt myself.
"Maybe…" I said deviously. "I'll just fall off the treadmill at full speed."
"Wha-"
Before Angela could stop me I began sprinting down the stairs. Just then my sock-feet lost traction on the hard wood of the stairs and my right foot came flying out from under me like a drunken Rockette. The other leg quickly followed and next thing I knew I was air born. Everything seemed to happen in slow-motion. I was flying through the air going ass over tits about to make an emergency crash landing. I had to think fast and when I saw the handrail soaring past me somewhere by my ear I grabbed for it. The abrupt stop my grasp had provided sent a wave of momentum through my body sending me into perfect perpendicular alignment with the floor. Then, appearing the moment I began to forget it had ever existed, gravity came into play. I hit my head hard on the stair below me and crumpled into a heap of tangled limbs and pain. It hurt way more than I had previously thought.
Just then time seemed to catch up with me as Angela's screams met my ears. You would have thought I was being mauled by a wolf by the way she was reacting. It must have looked as bad as I felt.
"!!! JESSICA!! ARE YOU ALIVE!! CAN YOU HEAR ME??? WHAT AM I GOING TO TELL YOUR PARENTS?? JESSICA!! YOU CANNOT DIE!!"
"Uuurrg." I tried to give her some sign of life. "I'm fine… Head throbbing… But… Still breathing… Don't worry… Brain possibly leaking out of ears… Head… Pain… It'll pass… I'm okay."
"We have to get you to the hospital! I'm calling my mom!"
We pulled up to the emergency room doors a half hour later. Angela's mother had calmed her down a bit but she had still fussed over me the entire way to the hospital. I was more worried about Angela going into shock than my potential (or as Angela put it 'obvious and possibly lethal') concussion.
I sat in the ER waiting room for an eternity as Angela argued with a nurse to get me a doctor and her mom was calling a million and two numbers trying to get a hold of my mother. Meanwhile, I sat in the germ infested waiting room chairs, filling out forms as best I could as I tried not to contract whatever disease the coughing, itching, watery-eyed man next to me was suffering from.
It felt as though the Vengaboys would make a comeback before I even got a hospital bed. Still, I waited.
And I waited.
And I was still waiting.
Angela came back and we waited together.
Still waiting.
Waiting with Angela and her mom.
Sick of waiting.
Finally! I eventually got my own cot behind a thin hospital curtain and was waiting for the doctor to arrive. The sheets were probably covered in incurable diseases and other unmentionables. If Dr. Cullen took today off I was going to be so pissed.
Just as I was thinking of all the ways I could get AIDS from the pillow at the head of the cot the curtain was pulled aside by a short, stout looking nurse.
"Okie Dokey, Hon. What seems to be the iss-siew?"
With my throbbing head and building anticipation to see Dr. DILF I just did not have the patience to deal with this woman; especially since I had already answered that question more times than I could count. Wasn't there some kind of chart-thing they had with all my information on it. If it's written down somewhere why the hell is she asking me what's wrong. And, if it's written somewhere why in God's name isn't she just reading it!
"It says here that you hit your head and believe you have a concussion." I guess they do have it written down. How convenient.
When I didn't immediately answer her, the nurse started up with what must have been her 'Plan B'.
"Is that right? Did you hit your head? Is that what happened? Hmm? Is it? You hit your head them? That it? You hit your head?"
"Yes. I hit my head." Now if you could just introduce me to Doctor Cullen I'll have everything I need.
"Well, then I guess we should get you a doctor; shouldn't we?" She reminded me of my preschool teacher if she shared a brain with my aunt Chloe's pet Chihuahua.
"Yes. I think we should."
"In that case I'll find Dr. Cullen; shall I? He must be here somewhere! I'll just be a minute. Don't you worry. We'll take good care of you. I dare say we will!"
As the nurse turned to leave a tall blonde girl in a candy striper uniform walked right into her. Several heads turned to find the source of all the noise as the nurse and the blonde, who I could now unmistakably see was Rosalie Cullen, got down on their hands and knees to sort through the heap of charts they had both dropped on the floor.
"I'm so sorry Mary. I guess I wasn't looking where I was going."
"Oh, that's alright sweetie. What are you up to anyway? Aren't you usually hanging around the maternity ward or looking after all the kiddies on the fourth floor?"
"I'm just helping my dad."
"Well, don't let me get in your way… again. Te he." Please tell me she did not just giggle. "Te he." Oh my god…
The two stood up and walked off in separate directions.
I sat there almost shaking with anticipation. I was terrified that, once Dr. Cullen arrived, I would be at a total loss for words. Luckily, I could pass that off as a symptom of the concussion.
I heard Dr. DILF before I could see him. A smooth men's voice drifted over to where I was sitting from somewhere a few beds over and a moment later a group of female nurses passed by my bed in a fit of giggles. He was so close. I could feel my heart rate accelerating. I thought it might explode it was beating so fast in my chest.
I listened to the sound of his footsteps as he made his way over to my cot. I wanted to be prepared when the curtain was pulled aside. Unfortunately, I would never be able to learn how to keep calm when any of the Cullens entered a room; or, in this case, reveal themselves to me with the graceful opening of a germy curtain.
"Hello, my name is Dr. Carlisle Cullen."
!
"You're Jessica, right? Edward introduced us."
OhmigahdOhmigahdOhmigahd!
"Well, let's get you patched up and on your way."
looked over my chart. It was only a matter of seconds before he nodded his head and looked back up at me. He looked so serious and calm which only made him look more like a majestic marble statue.
"So Jessica," he said with a sympathetic smile, "has this been troubling you for a while?"
"Well… um… no. It's pretty recent."
"I see. In that case, have you done anything strenuous lately? Anything you think might have brought this on?" Wow. His eyes are so warm. They look almost golden… Shit! He asked me something!... What I did to cause this. Right.
"I was at my friend Angela's house and I fell down her stairs." More like flew down and crash landed.
"I suppose that could have caused this but it seems somewhat unlikely. However, it's possible that the fall aggravated your condition." Is he saying I already had a concussion I wasn't aware of?! Scary!
"Huh…"
"Now, I need you to be very specific Jessica."
"Okay."
"Has there been much blood in your stool?" WHAT?! DOES STOOL MEAN WHAT I'M REALLY HOPING IT DOESN'T MEAN?!
I didn't know what that had to do with my concussion. Was it a sign of the concussion I might have had before I fell? If that's even what he meant? Was this some kind of standard question? OMG, I didn't know what to say to the gorgeous man that just asked me probably the grossest question of my life. So, I just stared back at him and said absolutely nothing.
Dr. Cullen decided to carry on with his evaluation of my condition.
"On a scale from one to ten (one being the lowest and ten being the highest), how uncomfortable are you right now?" Well, my brain does feel like it just had a terrible encounter with a meat tenderizer.
"Um… nine… or something."
"I see. Well, Jessica, I will have to check to see whether you require surgery. I'm hoping that I will be able to simply tie it off if it's not too bad. Do you have any questions? Concerns?"
Of course I had questions and concerns? What was this man talking about? Tie it off? Tie what off? My head? How would that fix my concussion? Would the loss of circulation numb the pain or something? I was so confused and I really didn't want surgery.
"Surgery?"
"It is possible."
"Or tie it off?"
"Yes."
"How does that work? How does it help?"
"Well, it's just like it sounds. If you would like I can have one of the nurses talk you through the procedure. I'd like to help you but I have other patients."
"But… if you tie my head off how will I breath?"
"Pardon me?"
"And I don't understand what blood in my… in my… has to do with anything."
"Well, Jessica, it is important for doctors to know these kinds of details. I understand that you must feel somewhat embarrassed. But you should know that, although your's is a severe case, it is not entirely uncommon for girls your age to get hemorrhoids."
"…"
"Jessica?"
"…"
"Jessica?"
"…hemorrhoids?"I whispered.
"Jessica, is something wrong?"
"I fell down the stairs!"
"I know Jessica. But I don't think that the fall alone would have caused the hemorrhoids."
"Stop saying that word!"
"I'm sorry. Would you like me to use a different term for it? Would that make you feel more comfortable?"
"No! Because I don't have… it!"
"I understand this must be a little scary and uncomfortable for you. But you must understand that this is a common-"
"I fell down the stairs!"I could feel that my face was now a bright shade of scarlet and my stomach felt as though it had done four back-flips then relocated into my throat. "I came here for a concussion. A possible concussion."
"Oh my. There must have been some kind of mix-up with the chart. I'm so sorry Jessica. The chart-"
"I fell down the stairs!" I sputtered.
Dr. Cullen quickly found my chart and did the routine examination for a concussion. The entire affair took no more than five minutes but it felt like eternity. I kept repeating 'I fell down the stairs' whenever a new doctor or nurse would approach me. I was mortified. How many times would I have to humiliate myself in front of one of the Cullens.
When my mom finally arrived she was just in time to take me home. As I was putting on my jacket I could hear her speaking to Dr. Cullen. He had wanted to apologize about the mix up with the charts. He was acting very professional; my mother on the other hand was bent over laughing. Thanks, Mom.
I grabbed the car keys and headed for the exit. My mom made a brief hand gesture for me to go ahead. She seemed rather preoccupied with Dr. Cullen. Meanwhile, I decided to wait in the car. I thought it would be less painful than reliving the other most embarrassing moment of my life over and over again.
I was about to exit the building when something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. It was a blonde girl in a candy striper outfit. That was the moment it hit me. The only possible explanation for the hemorrhoid fiasco: Rosalie Cullen. She must have switched the charts when she bumped into the short nurse that asked lame questions. She was absolutely beautiful but she was also a stone-cold bitch.
I sat bent over in the car with my head between my knees. I kept repeating three words in my head: chili, slushie, and hemorrhoids. In the short time they had been here the Cullens had already made a huge impact on my life; both good and bad. But never again would I be able to look at those words, or say them, or hear them the same way ever again. Chili, slushie, and hemorrhoids.