I woke up on a floor smeared with blood sometime after the seizure. I didn't check the clock, so I can't say for certain. The world outside my window was fairly dark, so it was late. Or early, depending on your definition of time.
I was drop-dead exhausted. It took me a while to work up the energy to move at all. I ended up kind of rolling over so I could use my sofa as a crutch. My limbs were weak and shaky. I felt oddly… fuzzy. It felt like television static had been injected into my body.
I briefly considered calling an ambulance. That meant a hospital stay, and doctors, and tests, and more questions. Nah. It wasn't worth it. Ma'am, we regret to inform you that you're dying, would be the general theme of what would undoubtedly be a 24-hour stay, at least. Nah.
I managed to shuffle my way to the bathroom, to get a look at myself in the mirror. The front of my shirt was stained with blood. I touched my face and hissed in pain – I had bitten my lip pretty severely.
My face had a pretty bruise developing along the right side of my jaw. I was a little pleased that was all that was visible. I splashed a little water on my face, and blood splattered into the sink. Delightful.
I shuffled my way to my bedroom, groaning as I tried to pull off clothes. My right arm screamed as I stretched, promising more bruises on that side. I ended up not bothering to take off any more clothes – I just slept in my work pants and no shirt. Whatever.
I was just too tired.
Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Bee-tap.
I groaned in discomfort, just trying to sit up without crying. First – always first – I clipped on my med-alert bracelet.
Next –pills and coffee; a yellow pill, a blue-and-white pill, two small round white pills, and another, bigger white pill. Count 'em – five – take 'em.
Next, a banana.
Every morning just the same.
I spent the extra time on my makeup – covering the bruise on my jaw, and concealing the bit lip with a deep plum lipstick. If someone looked closely, they might see it. I would also have to remember not to smile, or I would bleed all over my shirt by re-opening the lip.
Next came clothes, and check the weather. October 23, cold. Good, I had an excuse to wear a thick black turtleneck sweater. More covered bruises.
I pulled my I died today letter from its drawer, and left it on the counter. I lingered for a moment, considering if it might be time to re-write the letter. It was at least six months old… I hadn't actually read the thing since I wrote it. I remembered the general instructions, but not the emotional specifics. Hm.
Later. When I had more energy. I took a slow breath, leaning on the counter. I could do this. I could go to work, and be a real human being.
Off to work.
I got to the bottom of the stairs outside my apartment before I had to take a break. I leaned against the wall, and almost fell asleep. I was going to need a lot more coffee to get through the day.
I had to take three more breaks on my way to work – I honestly felt like I had accidentally swallowed an entire bottle of Nyquil. I briefly considered taking a nap on the sidewalk.
Mrs. Kimura was waiting for me at the front door when I shuffled up. She looked at me with grave concern as I unlocked the door. "Are you feeling alright?"
I nodded slowly. "I think I caught the flu; all three strains at once, maybe."
The little old lady instantly covered her mouth and nose with her sleeve. "Then you should be at home!"
I shook my head even slower than I had nodded. "Nah. I've got work." I shuffled inside, and hit the lights, and slowly went through my morning routine. I did this while ignoring conspicuous looks from Mrs. Kimura. I could get through today. I could. Maybe.
I felt so great! I walked swiftly through the stacks, jumping on and off of the little stools to put away books on high shelves, and easily sweeping down to a crouch to put things on the bottom shelves. I was a whirling dervish of energy, and even the head librarian offered a congratulatory nod at my efficacy.
"Maggie?" I snapped back to reality as someone gently shook my shoulder. There was an imprint of the keyboard on my arm, and my brain felt a little fuzzy.
"Hunh?" I blinked slowly, lifting my head from the counter. "Did I fall asleep?"
I fell asleep, and had a dream about doing work? That's the worst. Why couldn't I dream about hot, scantily-clad men serving me alcoholic drinks?
"Here's your coat, and your bag – you're going home. Now." Mrs. Kimura draped my coat over my shoulders, and held me by the arm to make sure I at least made it to the door. "Don't come in until the 26th. I don't want to see your face – and you had better be resting."
"No, I'm okay, really." I protested weakly, even as we got closer to the door.
She pursed her lips in that way that only someone's grandmother can. "That is nonsense and you know it. We'll be fine here without you for a few days. Now get going!" She pushed me gently out the door.
It took me an embarrassingly long time to get home. I won't even tell you the number of times I actually fell asleep standing upright in the middle of the sidewalk. But I did make it home. I did wash my face before collapsing into bed. No one needs a clown face plastered on their pillow.
I was miserable.
Of course it had to happen like this. Of course it did. I wanted to be happy, and was willing to try – even if it could only last a little while. So of course my brain said 'hey, you want to be happy? Let me remind you that you're actively dying.'
I just wanted to give up. Maybe I already had given up – just lying on the bed like a wet noodle.
I had been living with this for a year and a half.
I was just waiting to die.
I slept for a long time. It was dark when I woke up – my stomach woke me, demanding to be fed. Not bothering with actual physical labor, I just ordered takeout.
"I need a shower." That meant getting up; an extraordinary feat by itself.
I turned on the shower, and leaned against the counter while I waited for the water to heat up. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked like a mess – bruised face, cut lip, and just overall sense of lethargy lingering on the edges of my person. But that's seizures for you.
I knew that the scariest evidence of my illness hid out of sight. Surgery had left me with a nasty scar running up the back of my neck and disappearing into my hair. I never wore shirts without a collar. People tend not to ask questions about scars when you're strangers, but as they get to know you, the awkward questions come out. I didn't want to share.
The saddest part about brain surgery, I think, is when they cut off your hair. Long luscious locks and open brain surgery don't mix well, apparently. I had loved my hair – it was part of what made me feel feminine and pretty. I battled a lot with trying to summon feelings of self-worth, and femininity.
Long hair is such a symbol of maidenhood in culture today. My hair just brushes the underside of my jaw, and developed an almost curly wave after having all of the length chopped off. I hid from the world for a few months after surgery to let my peach fuzz grow into a respectable pixie cut, and no one asked any questions. They fawned over the adorable haircut, and the world went on.
I did save a lot on shampoo and conditioner, I reasoned, as I stepped into the hot water. I had it set at almost scalding – exactly the way I liked it.
I fell asleep briefly, and when I woke up the water was running cold. Good – it matched how I felt inside. Cold. Dead. Waiting to die, at least.
Still around, though.
For now.
A/N: I got many absolutely amazing responses to the last chapter. Kudos to those of you who pieced out the specifics of Maggie's illness.
I think you all have also noticed that chapters will start to take more than a day to be posted. I don't have any chapters pre-written, so I have to come up with all of this from scratch every time I start a chapter.
I did cut out a little of the planned end of this chapter so I could get it to you guys sooner!
Thanks to Akara Suzuki, Anber, Candyfiendnomnom, Catharina M, darkwolf1689, usumaki raven, The Story Teller Sentinel, Chibisensei110787, SilverDragonsTail, Divine Demonic Assassin, AkaMizu-chan, tyedyeoreo1015, xenocanaan, Moon-on-a-string, UzumakiSeiryl, and a guest for reviewing!
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