I have to hold onto the wall as I walk down the hallway because my stomach feels so queasy that I honestly can't stand upright. I'm glad that Mom went back downstairs and isn't lingering in the hallway because even though she's mad at me right now, I know for a fact that she would be in my business and wondering why I'm holding onto the wall.
I don't know why I feel so sick. Maybe it's because I know what I did with Bailey today is just so horribly wrong and I think I just lost the last person who truly cared about me. Or maybe it's because I'm fairly certain that Mom and Dad are going to kick me out. I don't know what's wrong with me anymore. I don't know why I'm just messing everything up lately.
I broke up with Rachel and maybe I should have heard her out because I think there's a reason she was kissing Finn. She's been acting really different lately and I noticed it when we were on the bus going to regionals. She was acting quiet and kind of sad but I thought that she was just tired or something but I should've pushed. I should have pushed her to tell me what's wrong instead of dumping my issues with what my dad did to Frannie on her. I should have noticed that something was wrong. Maybe I drove her into the arms of Finn. Maybe it was me who wasn't emotionally available enough to hear her out. Maybe it was me… and I broke up with her for no reason.
Somehow I manage to make it to the bathroom without blowing chunks all over the floor. I shut the door behind myself and don't bother locking it because I won't be in here very long and Mom is too mad to come in here searching for me. I drag my feet over to the toilet, lift the seat up, and stare down into the water below as I feel my stomach constricting.
I don't know why I kissed Bailey, either. It was just… spur of the moment, I guess. She was looking at me and she was saying all those really nice things about me and telling me what I do and don't deserve and she just made me feel special, okay? I felt special. For once in my life, I felt like my presence on this earth is not a complete waste and that I'm alive for a reason. She made me feel that way. And I think I loved her for it. It was a split second and a flash of something in my head. A split second and a flash of feeling like I didn't Rachel anymore because Bailey is my soulmate. She was right in front of me all along and I kept ignoring her and ignoring the signs because I was so hung up on someone who doesn't want to be with me. I swear I thought it was right. When I leaned in and I kissed her and she kissed me back — with tongue — I thought it was right. I didn't care about the repercussions or how illegal it was. She wanted to kiss me and I wanted to kiss her and I swear it was the only thing that felt right since the first time I kissed Rachel. But I made a mistake. I made a mistake and now she's gone and I can't see her anymore and I think she really cared about me…
My stomach constricts even without me putting my fingers in my mouth. My shoulders hunch and I feel it burning, rolling up from the pit of my stomach and into my throat. It comes up so fast that all I can do is open my mouth and hope that it lands in the toilet. The grilled cheese sandwich, purple grapes, french fries and iced tea I ate for lunch hit the bottom of the toilet so hard that the ball of food makes water splash up onto my shirt. I cough, spit. Cough, spit. I don't think that's it. I think I have more in there somewhere.
And as if all of that wasn't enough, I cussed at Mom. I cussed at Mom. Mom, who's been there for me more than anybody else in this world. Mom, who's taken me in and treated me as her own and gave me a place to feel safe when I had nowhere else in this world I could go. Mom, the only person in this world that I look up to and tell myself to be more like. Mom… the best person I know. And I cussed at her. I cussed at her and now she's going to give up on me too and I'm going to have no one and I don't understand how my life was so good last week and this week it's so bad and I'm losing everything that I care about and pushing everyone away and alienating myself and feeling so alone and I'm on medicine to help me but it's not helping and everything is bad and nothing is good and I wanna go home and I miss my mom and I miss Rachel and I'm sorry that I cussed at mom and sorry that I kissed Bailey and sorry that I mess everything up and I'm so messed up and my head is scary and I'm just sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry… I'm sorry…
There's definitely more in there. I can feel it. It's just sitting in the pit of my stomach and making me feel full I'm so full and it has to come out it has to come out of me it has to go somewhere it has to go away it has to be flushed it has to come out of me it can't stay inside of me it's killing me it's inside of me and it's killing me and it has to come out… it has to come out.
It burns my throat again when it shoots up from the pit of my stomach and I don't take my fingers out of my mouth. This weird burbling noise comes out of me and all the contents of my stomach drip down my arm. Most of it falls into the toilet and onto the toilet seat.
It's all water. Why is it all water? No, it can't be water. It has to be food. There's food in there, I can feel it. It's in there and I'm dying and it has to come out.
I inch my fingers even further down my throat and the loudest noise I've ever heard comes out of my mouth, but still it's just water. It can't be water. I know it's food.
I use the toilet seat to brace myself. My hands on either side, fingertips clutching the ledges. I watch the way the water I threw up makes the food sink to the bottom of the toilet. I'm coughing, dry heaving. I just have to catch my breath before I do it again. I'm not stopping until this food comes out and my stomach is empty. My stomach needs to be empty. I don't… I don't deserve to have food inside of me. I deserve nothing.
I wipe my fingers on the seat of my sweatpants because sometimes it's easier when my fingers are dry and not slick and wet with my own saliva and vomit. My fingers are dry, I take a deep breath. My lips are parted, I creep my fingers down. Deep, deep, deep… half my hand is in my mouth.
Then suddenly, I feel it.
My stomach squeezes so hard that it doubles me over in pain, I make a noise that sounds like an animal being mauled by a bear, and I feel a large chunk of something working it's way up my throat. It gets a little stuck. So I take my fingers out and cough really hard to force it the rest of the way up.
It's soft, the size of a baseball, and lumpy. It plops down into the toilet and it's black and I don't recall eating anything black today… I didn't eat anything black…
Why is it turning red…? It's turning red, it's… it's red, it's in the water and there's little ribbons of red leaking out around it and it's breaking apart it's breaking apart and it looks like coffee grounds what is this? This has never happened to me before and I've done this a lot, I've done this so many times and this has never happened…
Something's salty in my mouth. No, not salty. Metallic. Like… like rust mixed with a little bit of salt. That's the taste of blood. Am I bleeding?
I open my mouth and spit into the toilet but when I spit it's like a river of blood just coming out of my mouth.
I've never seen blood this color before, I've never seen blood this dark. It's deep, deep, dark red. It's almost black. Black like the thing I just threw up. Why is there so much? There's so much of it, there's so much — OW!
"Ahh," I whimper and my hand flies up to my chest. My chest burns. Oh my god, my chest burns. It burns so bad, it's like it's on fire. My chest hurts. My chest burns. I need mom… I need her, but I can't move. I can't move, my chest hurts. My chest hurts. I can't breathe.
I try to take one step away from the toilet but my legs feel like Jello underneath of me and more blood falls out of my mouth. I can't stop coughing but coughing really hurts and my chest is really burning like someone poured fire down my throat and every time I cough, more blood just comes out of me. I need to get to mom…
I crawl over to the sink and use the ledge to pull myself up and I leave a bloody handprint that I'm going to have to clean up. How am I going to explain this to them? How do I tell them that I threw up and now I'm bleeding?
The ledge helps me up to my feet and when I see myself in the mirror, my face is covered in blood. From my nose down, I'm covered… COVERED… it's just pouring out of my mouth like a faucet or something. And my throat feels like it's gone.
I need mom… I think I messed up. I messed up, I think I might have just killed myself…? I think I'm dying. I don't want to, but I have to lie down on the floor because my chest hurts so bad and I can't breathe. I need mom… I think I'm dying.
I'm dying and I'm alone and —
Four really loud, really harsh bangs against something glass makes my body jump, my heart race and my eyes snap open.
My eyes burn for a second as they adjust to the sudden light, but I bring my hand up to rub them until they feel better. My arm still hurts pretty bad, that hasn't changed. It must be the arm where they stuck all the needles into me, because my left arm doesn't hurt. Just my right one does. I'm facing a window so I can see that it's broad daylight and the sun is shining with no clouds in sight but there are snowflakes falling from the sky. Only when I swallow do I remember that my throat hurts pretty badly and it hurts even more as I try to pick my head up off the pillow. There's a small drop of dried blood on the pillowcase where my mouth was, but it's so small that I'm not really worried.
How long was I asleep?
The four loud bangs make me jump again and I'm slow doing it, but I manage to turn around and face the direction they're coming from. The numbers on some machine next to my bed start counting up very quickly, but I notice that they stop climbing and start going back down once I'm calm again. I have to blink a few times to make the person at the door a little clearer, but I'm pretty sure it's…
"Fran?" My voice can still only reach just above a whisper and it still really hurts to speak, but at least I can speak. Right?
"Oh, Luce!" My sister starts crying as soon as she hears my voice and runs over to my bed as if she didn't just wake me up by knocking. Her arms swallow me up into a really big hug and my face is crushed between her boobs and I feel her tears dripping on my head and her hand hurts when it rubs my hair. Ouch, Frannie. Ouch. "I'm sorry to wake you, I just… I needed you to wake up. I… I'm so glad you're okay…"
Well I don't know much about the way they're treating me here, Fran. But I don't think you should have woken me up. I think sleeping was the best way to go here. Thanks a lot.
"How are you feeling?" She finally releases me but she keeps her hand against my cheek. "Are you in any pain? The doctor said if you're in pain, just push the call button and the nurse will come right in and give you more morphine."
I don't think I want morphine. Morphine made me feel weird the last time they gave it to me. Yeah my throat hurts pretty damn bad but I'd rather have my right mind and my wits about myself before I take the pain away and be loopy.
"Are you comfortable?" She uses her fingers to brush my hair away from my face and starts fluffing my pillows. "You want some water? Actually, I'm not sure if you're allowed to drink, but I mean… it's just water. Right?" She grabs a half-drunken bottle from the nightstand by my bed and twists the cap off. "Here… nice and steady, okay?"
She holds the bottle to my mouth as if my own arms and hands don't work. She tilts it up slowly and when I feel it touch my lips, I part them to make a slight hole big enough for me to suck some through. But it's like… it's like… like I forgot.
Once the water is in my mouth, it just sits there. I'm trying to do what I've been doing by reflex since I was born. I'm trying to use my tongue to push the bloody-tasting water to the back of my mouth so it can go down my throat. It's simple, isn't it? You push your tongue to the roof of your mouth and the liquid goes down your throat. That's how you swallow. So why can't I…? Why can't I swallow? Why did I forget how to swallow?
"Luce…? You okay?" Frannie slowly takes the water away from my mouth and looks at me like it's the most scared she's ever been.
I tilt my head back and look up at the ceiling because maybe I can get the water to just slither down my throat instead of spitting it out. I can't believe I don't know how to swallow anymore. Oh my god, I can't swallow… am I still able to eat?! What if I can't eat anymore! I can't swallow! Oh my god, I can't swallow!
"Just do it steady, okay?" Frannie puts her hand on my chin like she's coaching me through swallowing and I feel a tear dribble down to my cheek. I can't swallow. What kind of life am I going to have if I can't swallow? "Nice and steady…" She rubs my throat.
The water starts to trickle down my throat very slowly, but as soon as one lousy drop drips down into it, it is unbelievable. It's pain unlike anything I've ever felt in my life and that's saying something because I had an eight pound baby come out of my crotch with no drugs.
I sit my head upright and spit the water out onto my bed and WOW, my throat burns. It feels like putting rubbing alcohol on a brush burn, but times ten. It feels like dousing scalding hot water on open flesh. It hurts so bad that I can't help but cry. I put my hand against my throat and start crying so hard that I can't see anything through tears.
"Oh my god, Quinn," Frannie uses her hand to wipe the bloody water from my chin and grabs the remote beside my bed that has the nurses' button on it. "Are you okay?!" She uses her hands to force me to look in her eyes. "Look at me baby, are you hurt?! Are you hurt?!"
The nurse comes rushing into my room like seconds after Frannie pushes the call button and she goes immediately over to the machines that I'm hooked up to. She looks friendly, but she's not talking. She has curly red hair and wrinkles. She's wearing scrubs with the characters from Frozen on them and she kind of looks like she's a grandma. I think I might like her.
"I tried to give her water to drink and she spit it out and started crying. Do something." Frannie is nearly hysterical but I don't think she needs to be. It just hurt me a little, that's all. I'm not dying again. "Is she not able to drink? I just gave her some water, I thought she might be dehydrated, I didn't —"
"Right now we're still giving her fluids through the IV and she's tolerating food through the feeding tube, so there's no need for her to use her throat for anything. She's not dehydrated, sweetie. She's doing alright." The nurse hooks something into one of my IVs and I hope it's not morphine. "Now Quinn… honey, it's gonna be a while before you're able to swallow. Okay? We have to get the speech pathologist in here to work with you, we have to let her reteach you a few things. It's gonna be a while before it stops hurting."
"Okay," I say and my voice sounds like I swallowed a frog. "Can I still eat? Am I gonna have a f-feeding tube forever?"
"No, sweetie. No. It's just temporary. We're gonna try you on some pudding and soup broth sometime tomorrow and see how you do with that. The tube's just temporary." She explains as she rubs a thermometer across my forehead. "Your temperature's looking great, and I just gave you a little bit of codeine to help with the pain. Okay? It should be setting in soon. If you need anything else, just tap that button. I'll be right in, honey."
"Thank you." I choke out.
Frannie sighs and sits down at the foot of my bed. I really wish she wouldn't touch me, but I get that she's scared and probably thought that I was going to die or something, so I just let it go whenever she grabs ahold of my hand. We sit together, hand in hand, in complete silence for a few moments and it's a little bit awkward but neither one of us knows what to say.
"...You scared the shit out of me, you know that, don't you?" Frannie mumbles. "I thought I was gonna walk into this hospital and be talking to the coroner and identifying your body."
"I'm sorry."
"What the fuck were you thinking, Lucy?"
"Quinn."
"No, not Quinn, Lucy. You're Lucy to me right now. Quinn wouldn't have done some fucked up shit like that, that's a Lucy move." She tucks her hair behind her ear and I have to bite my lip so I don't cry. "You gave me a heart attack, Q! You don't know how it felt to see you lying there like that! You were dead, Quinn! DEAD! And the last thing I thought was that my baby sister —"
"I'm sorry!" I use my fingers to swipe away the tears. "I'm sorry, I don't know what happened, I…" I shake my head. "I'm sorry."
"...I thought that was over." She grabs me by my arm and pulls me closer to her, forcing me to lie on her shoulder. "I thought that summer, when Mom sent that guy to the house and threw out all the scales… I thought you kicked this, Q. I thought you beat it."
"I can't," I say without much thought and that kind of scares me because if I can say that without thinking then it must be true. Maybe I really can't stop… "It's… it's inside me, Fran. I think I got a handle on it and sometimes I really do. But then something happens and I'm right back where I started and I… I can't stop. I'm weak."
"Look at me," she strokes my cheek with her thumb and ignores my tears. "You're going to beat this. You are a Fabray, you are strong and you did not survive sixteen years in that house with mom and dad just to call yourself weak. Okay? You are strong. You are strong and you're going to beat this. This is something you'll look back on and tell Beth about. I know it's hard, I know it's the hardest thing you've ever done. But this isn't going to kill you. I won't let it. You're done with it, Quinn. You're done. I… I know dad made it hard for you. Everything you ate, he… he just never left you alone, I know that. But you are not destroying yourself and your body anymore. You. Are. Done."
"I wanna be done so bad, Frannie…" I start crying all over again and she makes me put my head on her chest. She rubs my hair and it makes me cry even harder. I really do want to be done… I don't want to do this anymore. I know I said I can stop whenever I want but I can't. I can't stop. I can't give up the control. I can't control anything. I can't control how Russel and Judy feel about me. I can't control whether Beth wakes up and wears a purple outfit or a blue one. I can't control where I stay at night and where I sleep. I can't control how I react to Puck or how deep I fall in love with Rachel. I can't control Rachel loving me back, I can't control my life. But I can control that. I know that if I throw up, I'll step on the scale and be one pound lighter and in a world where I can't control anything… I just want to control that. I want to control something.
I want to be done with this. I want my mind to be normal. I want to stop thinking about how much weight I'm gaining when I eat something small, like an apple. I want to stop being so hyper aware of the food that's in my stomach. I want to stop feeling like every time I do something good, I deserve five cupcakes. I want to stop feeling like when I do something bad, I deserve to starve. I want to be done with this so bad… I don't want this to control my life anymore… someone please help me… because this is the one thing I can't kick…
"Do mom and dad know?" I snivel and wipe my tears again as I pick my head up off Frannie's chest. "Do they know I'm here?"
"I told them. Don't worry about it, I told them." She uses the base of her white t-shirt to wipe my face and even the snot that dribbled out of my nose. "...I really like the Joneses, you know. Especially Mrs. Jones."
"You do?" I pull away from her wiping me off just so I can see her face. I want to know if she's being truthful or not.
"Uh-huh," she nods with an easy smile and puts her shirt back down. "They've been fighting with social workers all night. I guess child services is trying to say that you're being neglected, but. They don't know about the power of Mama Patrice."
Hearing Frannie say that makes me laugh because I can only imagine the kind of hell Mom is putting them through. I'm willing to bet that she can take down every social worker in the entire state of Ohio all on her own. I really hope they don't try to take me away from her… I really hope they don't actually think I'm being neglected. Well, I'm sure they'll talk to me and when they do, I'll set the record straight. I'll let them know that the only people who have neglected me and contributed to my current condition are Russel and Judy Fabray.
"You know something else?" Frannie looks down at the bed as if she's about to say something really important. "...I really like Rachel, too."
"You met her?!"
"I did," she nods. "We went down to the cafeteria and I bought her a coffee. We sat and had a really long talk." She takes a breath and then looks at me. "I don't know what happened between you two. I don't know what happened and I don't know if it can be fixed or not. But I know that you should try. You should try to fix it. Because that girl loves you, it's clear to me. She hasn't moved an inch since yesterday and she's been here through it all. She loves you a lot, Quinn. So you should at least try. Try to forgive her for whatever happened."
She hasn't left since yesterday. She's been outside with my family since I got here. She's probably tired and hungry and worried about missing Glee club. But she's here. With me.
I look up and over towards the door to see if I can see her. And sure enough, I can. She's still wearing the loose-fitting Wicked t-shirt and her fuzzy pajama pants. Her bunny slippers are still hanging on, too. She looks exhausted and like she needs a serious nap, but to me… I still think she's beautiful. The way her ponytail is low and extremely loose, and her hair is in need of being brushed. The way she stands outside the door with her arms across her chest, trying to act like she's not totally waiting for me to allow her in. God, I missed her. I can't turn off loving her just like that…
"Where are the Joneses?" I ask.
"They're down in a conference room answering questions from child services. The one doctor's being a bitch about giving them information since they're not your legal guardians."
"So they'll be gone a while?"
"Eh, I'd say about an hour."
I look back at the door and watch as Rachel pretends to be very interested in the yellow paintings on the walls.
"You can send her in," I mumble to Frannie.
"Are you sure?"
"Mhm."
"Okay. I'll be right outside if you need me." Frannie rubs my hair one last time then heads for the door.
I watch through the glass window as she and Rachel exchange some words. Rachel takes a really deep breath, nods at Frannie, then approaches the door to my room. There's a part of me that wants to hide under my covers and not face her, because I know she's one more person I have to apologize to for all the scary events of last night. I have to apologize to her when she should be the one apologizing to me.
I don't think I'm ready to face Rachel yet. I'm glad she's here and I'm glad she came to see me and I saw her before I passed out yesterday, but Rachel is a level of drama that I'm not sure I'm ready to deal with. I just don't want to deal with this right now… but I know I can't keep avoiding it.
"Good morning," she lingers by the door and says that with a very nervous smile. She won't make eye contact with me. She just keeps looking at the ground and I wish I could be mad at her for it but the truth is that I can't make eye contact with her either. "I was starting to think you'd never wake up."
"How long was I out?" I just look at the ten tons of blankets the nurses have on my bed and try to distract myself from how I'm feeling. I'm feeling like I want to look at her…
"Thirteen hours. Fourteen, maybe." She takes a step closer to my bed but still keeps a respectable distance. "...Will you please look at me, Quinn?"
"You won't look at me."
"Because you won't look at me." She says and I don't have to look at her to know that she's crying. I can hear it in her voice. "...I thought I lost you last night. I started going through my mind and thinking about all the ways I wouldn't be able to —"
"Rachel, you —"
"No, okay? I'll talk, you listen." She doesn't wipe her tears. She just approaches my bed and takes it upon herself to sit down on it. "I thought I lost you last night. Mercedes called me and she was hysterical and she told me you were being —" Her voice cracks and she has to take a breath to steady herself. "L-life flighted to Dayton and that it was bad and I… I just really thought I lost you." I notice how she's clutching the necklace with my initial on it. Why hasn't she taken that off? "I started thinking about how much I wouldn't be okay if I lost you. I thought about how much my life would suck if you weren't in it anymore and how I would forever be heartbroken because the LOVE of my LIFE died a few days before my seventeenth birthday." She shakes her head and sniffs. "I wrote you a song. And I'm just waiting for you to get better so I can sing it to you."
"You—"
"Please forgive me, Quinn. Please. Can we just leave this hospital and start all over and forget everything that happened because I know better now. I know better and I promise to love you better. I promise, I promise I —"
"What happened to your face?" I ask to interrupt her because she's going off on a tangent and she needs to be calmed down. What better way to change the subject and calm her down than to ask her about the big, clementine-sized purple bruise that starts at her jaw and extends all the way up to her cheekbone?
I don't know what comes over me, but for some reason, I have to reach out and touch it. I stroke my fingers across it because it looks like it hurts. Rachel shrugs away from me when I touch it, though.
"Don't worry about it, it's not important. What's important is that you can forgive me. What's important is that you know that I love you and I want you for the rest of my life and I don't care how young we are. I don't care. I just need you to forgive me. Please. Please. Do you think you can forgive me?"
I bite my lip and look down at my blankets again. I don't know if I'm ready to do that yet. I think I need to get to the root of why she kissed Finn before I'm ready to do that and I think I need to be able to trust that it won't happen again. Right now, I just really need to step back and take a break and think about all the reasons that I got here. I'm… I'm not in the position to date Rachel right now. I'm not in the position to forgive her. I need to work on myself. I need to get out of this hospital. I need to really think about what our relationship is going to mean to me now that she kissed Finn.
"Please answer me, Quinn. Say something." She begs but I still say nothing because I don't know what I could say that won't completely shatter her right now. "Please… anything. Shelby… Shelby's outside, okay? She's outside and she wants to see you and —"
"Beth's here?" I sit upright and crane my neck to see out in the hallway. "Where?"
"No, Beth's home. She's with Shelby's friend, she's um… she's not here but Shelby is and Shelby wants to see you and I'll send her in, but please give me an answer. Just please tell me you can forgive me."
"...I love you, Rachel." I bite the inside of my cheek so I can choose my words carefully. "And I don't think I'll ever stop loving you. At least not fully. But I can't forgive you. Not yet."
She closes her eyes and her face crumbles for a moment, but she is holding strong and steady. She nods her head at me even though she's desperately holding back tears.
"I'm… I'm gonna go get Shelby." She croaks and nearly sprints to the door.
And that's the last I see of her.
"You think maybe I could get a real milkshake, Char?" I ask her as I wrinkle my nose in disgust at the liquid she expects me to drink.
This is my third time swallowing this nasty shit and it never gets any easier. It still makes me want to gag when it goes down my throat. It's like I'm swallowing smashed up chalk mixed with milk. It has the consistency of a milkshake but it tastes nothing of the sort.
"A strawberry one. With lots of whipped cream and a cherry on top." I slosh the barium around in the cup then hold it to my lips. I start choking it down slowly like the speech pathologist taught me. It's been super weird learning how to swallow again but I picked up on it pretty quickly and Char says it's just muscle memory.
"You hold still, kid." Char drapes the heavy lead vest over my chest and ruffles my hair. "If I like what I see on these x-rays, I'll get ya all the milkshakes you want."
"Ooh, and pizza?" I hold the rest of my body still with the exception of my mouth as Char steps into the other room to push the button on the x-ray machine. "I could go for pizza. With all the gooey cheese and greasy pepperoni… god, yes."
"It's gonna be a while before you're ready to eat some pizza, little bit." She comes back into the room and hands me the thinner drink. I know the drill. Drink the thick one then the thin one. It all tastes terrible. "Unless you puree it."
"Oh god, gross. That's gross, Char." I hold the thinner mixture of barium to my lips and take several slow sips.
I feel a whole lot better. My throat still hurts, obviously. But my voice is back and talking doesn't hurt as bad as it used to. It still burns when I swallow, but they have me off the pain medicine completely and the pain is bearable. It feels more like I just have a really sore throat now than anything. And they let me eat soup and pudding, mostly. They say it's going to be a while before I'm able to eat anything other than soup and pudding, but they took the feeding tube out and I'm doing okay without it.
If my swallow test comes back okay, they're going to let me out of the hospital today and I'm super excited because I want to go home. I want to sleep in my own bed and I miss Whitney and Bobby. Plus, I'd kill for a really good shower that doesn't have hospital soap that smells like surgery. Obviously they're going to send me home with a bunch of antibiotics and I'm on a new heart medication, but I get to go home. After six long days of being in the hospital and working my ass off to learn how to swallow again, I get to go home. At last.
"Alright, little bit. We're all set. I think I got enough good ones." Char takes the vest off of me and hangs it back up before she takes the brakes off my wheelchair and starts wheeling me out of the room.
"Why do you call me 'little bit'?" I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand because I still feel that nasty barium on my lips. "What does that mean?"
"Well you're little," she wheels me up the hallway and I can hear the grin in her voice. "And I like you. I'm gonna miss you when we finally let you up outta here."
"Are you from down south?"
"Born and raised, chicky. Feet up." She wheels me onto the elevator and I put my feet up when she crosses the threshold. "...What flavor you want?"
"Got any purple ones?"
She sighs hard like I'm a big inconvenience to her or something, but she reaches into her pocket and hands me a purple lollipop that I rip the plastic off of in an instant. Lollipops are my thing now. I'm not supposed to have them because the doctor says that they can cut my throat if I bite off pieces of them, but I don't bite off pieces. I just suck it until we reach the garbage can on my floor and Char makes me throw it away. She's the best x-ray technician ever, by the way. She's done all three of my swallow tests, plus my two chest x-rays and she's one of the only doctors on my team that I look forward to seeing.
"So what's up with you and that girl? You get anywhere with that yet?" She wheels me down the hallway once we get off the elevators and makes the turn to get to my room.
"I'm still working on it," I sigh. She knows everything about me and Rachel. It's weird, I know. But when you're laying on an x-ray table and letting some girl look at your chest while she puts a lead vest over you, you start to talk. And you bond. And Char ends up telling you that she would "take you home if she could." I take my lollipop out of my mouth as we approach the trashcan. "I don't know how I'm gonna forgive her. It's like I want to be her friend but I'm not ready to be her girlfriend. Does that make sense?"
"You can't be friends with someone you love, little bit. It just don't work that way." She flips her short blonde hair over her shoulder and helps me back into my bed. "You know I'm rooting for ya, though. I think you ought to give the girl another chance. She ain't moved since you got here. It's been six whole days and nothing. She's still here. That gotta count for something."
"...Maybe you're right." I pull my blankets back over my legs and grab my phone from my nightstand.
"I'm always right," she winks her blue eyes at me. "I'm gonna go get your pictures down to the radiologist. I'll come back and see you 'round dinner time if they ain't let you out of here yet."
"See you, Char."
She leaves the room and as soon as she does, I finally tune into what Mom, Dad and my head doctor are talking about at the other end of the hallway. Frannie had to fly home yesterday. She has a really big test in one of her classes and if she misses it, she'll fail the whole semester so she had to go. She stayed until the doctors told her that I was officially out of the woods, though. Mom, Dad and Mercedes went home yesterday too. They made Mercedes go to school today because she couldn't miss anymore, but they came right back after they changed their clothes. It's funny, nobody left the hospital until they knew I was okay. Yesterday was the official confirmation because the tests on my heart came back fine. And it was like as soon as they heard that, they got in the car and went home to finally shower and change. But they were right back in three hours. Rachel hasn't left, though. She's still wearing the same clothes she's been wearing and her hair is still a mess. Even though we haven't been talking much… she's still here.
Anyway, I can't hear very well. I know I shouldn't be eavesdropping, but I just really want to know what my doctor is telling Mom and Dad about me. So I get out of my bed and head for the door. I stand beside my door, completely undetected… and it's perfect for eavesdropping.
"If the swallow test comes back okay today, I don't see a reason why you can't take her home first thing tomorrow. Her heart's great, she's swallowing nicely, the psychiatrist said she's responding really well to the Prozac, she's tolerating soft foods… I see no reason why she has to stay." The doctor says.
"We can take her home tomorrow?" Mom sounds super excited. "I can have my girl back home by tomorrow?"
"If this swallow test comes back alright, sure. There's nothing we're doing here that you can't do for her at home."
"What about her therapies and stuff? Do we do that at home too?" Dad asks.
"Yeah, I'll print up some discharge instructions when I'm ready to discharge her. I'm gonna send her home with a couple of the swallowing therapy exercises that the speech pathologist has been working with her on. I want to see her back here in two weeks to make sure her esophagus is healing and give her another stress test to make sure her heart is okay. The psychiatrist wants her to follow up with her regular psychiatrist and he's going to increase her recommended therapy to three days a week instead of two. And I'm setting her up with a nutritionist not too far from your house in Lima."
"Okay… okay, good. Good." Mom still sounds excited. "What do you recommend we feed her? How long 'til she can eat some regular food?"
"Just keep her on soft foods until I see her again in two weeks, then I'll reevaluate. Just keep her on broths, soups, ice cream, oatmeal, pudding… maybe cookies if they'll melt in her mouth. She can have baby food if she's willing, I know some of the fruits taste really good and that's a good way to make sure she's getting her nutrients."
"Looks like we gotta go buy her some baby food," Dad chuckles. "You keep talking to her, honey. I'm gonna go tell Rachel she can head home now. Poor girl needs a bath in the worst way."
When I hear him say that, that's when I actually poke my head out into the hallway. I watch him as he goes over to Rachel and places very gentle hands on her shoulders. He says something to her that I can't hear, and Rachel nods her head in understanding. Dad gives her a side-hug and rubs her on the back before he lets her go, and Rachel gathers her phone, her jacket and her bunny slippers. She turns to me too quickly for me to duck away, and our eyes meet. Our eyes meet. ...And she waves at me.
I don't wave back. I just watch as she disappears up the hallway and even though I didn't wave back, it doesn't mean she didn't make me feel something. Because she did. I felt something knowing that this is the first time she's leaving since I got here. And that something makes me decide that I'm going to at least hear her reasons for why she kissed Finn. I'm going to at least TRY to forgive her.
I sigh and head back to my phone so I can text her and hopefully set up a time where we can talk once I get home, but I hear Mom's voice before I even get the chance to unlock my phone. And Mom's voice sounds angry…
"What do you think you're doing?" Mom spits fire when she talks and I make my way back over to the door because who could she possibly be talking to like that? "Why the hell are you here?!"
I peek my head around the door again, careful that they don't see me.
And I can't believe who I see, actually…
"I came to see my daughter," she replies in a way softer tone than Mom is talking to her in. She replies in a tone that suggests she's totally innocent or misunderstood. "Is Quinnie okay?" She adjusts her mink coat and starts pulling off her designer gloves. "I got a message from the insurance company and I came as soon as I could. …Was it her little spitting up problem that did all this?"
"Spitting up problem?!" Mom's entire demeanor changes. It's like she's possessed by a demon and I'm kind of scared of her when she's like this… "YOU MEAN TO TELL ME YOU KNEW YOUR BABY HAD A LIFE THREATENING ILLNESS THIS WHOLE TIME AND YOU NEVER ONCE SAW TO IT THAT SHE GOT HELP?! IT TOOK YOU DAYS TO COME HERE. DAYS. FRANCESCA DONE CALLED YOU AND SO DID WE. I CALLED YOU BACK WHEN SHE WAS STILL AT ST. RITA'S. SHE WAS ON HER DEATHBED. SHE ABOUT DIED TWICE IN THE HELICOPTER ON HER WAY UP HERE AND GUESS WHO RODE WITH HER?! MY HUSBAND, THAT'S WHO. YOU AND YOUR SORRY ASS HUSBAND WERE NOWHERE TO BE FOUND. NOWHERE. NOW YOU WANNA SHOW UP AND ACT LIKE HER MAMA AFTER ALL THE SHIT'S BEEN SETTLED WITH CHILD SERVICES AND WHEN THE MONEY'S INVOLVED. YOU CAME CAUSE YOU GOT A CALL FROM THE INSURANCE?! HOW MUCH THEY CHARGING YOU AND RUSSEL, JUDY?! HOW MUCH THEY SAY THAT MADE YOU COME DOWN HERE FINALLY AND SEE WHAT'S GOING ON WITH MY GIRL?! HOW MUCH IS YOUR BABY'S LIFE WORTH TO YOU?!"
"Look, I don't know what kind of fantasy about me you drummed up in your head, but I trusted you with my daughter. I trusted you to take care of her and now look." She's still talking in the calmest tone ever and it's typical Judy Fabray. Typical. She doesn't get upset or worked up about hardly anything serious. "Quinnie's coming home with me. I got the hospital to release her to me. You have no legal rights to her and clearly she's not thriving like you said she would be with you."
Mom charges at my other mom like she's ready to rip her head off but Dad grabs her by her arms and pulls her. Hard. He has to pull her hard to stop her from killing my mother and I don't mean that to be facetious. I mean that seriously. The force that she charged at my mother with could have killed her. And I don't think Mom would have cared that she did it.
"Tricey, you gotta calm down! She ain't worth it!" Dad yells. "They gonna call security, calm down! She ain't worth it!"
"SHE AIN'T GONNA COME IN HERE AND ACT LIKE SHE KNOWS WHAT'S BEST. SHE AIN'T GONNA COME IN HERE AND TAKE HER AWAY! SHE AIN'T SHOW UP FOR SIX FUCKIN DAYS AND NOW WHEN THE MONEY INVOLVED AND IT'S TIME TO PAY, SHE COMES?!"
"I'm doing what's best for my daughter!"
"YOUR DAUGHTER?! BITCH, I—"
"If you knew what's good for you, you'd leave this hospital. Right now." Dad stands in front of Mom, backed into a corner, with his arms blocking her from getting out. "I'm being serious, Judy. You should go."
"Quinn's my daughter and I'm not going anywhere until I have her. She's coming home with me. I've let these shenanigans go on far too long, it's time —"
"...Mom?" I finally leave from my room once I'm not scared anymore. I'm just in the middle of everything and I don't want to be. I'm in the middle of this, in the middle of Rachel and Mercedes… I don't want to be in the middle anymore.
Judy turns around and faces me and her face actually lights up when she sees me. …It's sick, but I feel my face light up too. Mommy… I missed you. You're happy to see me, I can tell. You love me, don't you? You really do love me. You never stopped. Mommy…
"Quinnie!" She runs over to me and scoops me up in her arms like I'm a baby again and I can't explain how good it feels to hear her call me "Quinnie" again. And she still smells good. She still smells just like my mommy always smells and she's still soft and I forgot how good her arms felt and I just missed her so much. I thought she didn't love me… I thought she stopped loving me… "Oh, sweetie! I came as soon as I found out where you were!" I thought Frannie called you days ago… nevermind that, it doesn't matter. You're here now. "I love you so much sweetheart, it's gonna be okay now. You're gonna come home and me and daddy are gonna take care of you. We got you. I love you so much, sweetie. So much."
"I love you too," I wipe my tears and try to stop crying when she kisses my cheek but I can't. I can't stop crying. It's my mommy… she's here… I haven't seen her in so long… I thought she didn't love me anymore…
"Can I talk to a parent for… Lucy?" Some new girl that I've never seen before comes into the hallway holding a clipboard and some envelopes.
I notice that Mom, calmed down but still breathing heavy, takes a step forward. But so does Judy and I'm just really confused because it seems like Mom should be the one doing the talking. But Judy's my mom too…
"That would be me!" Judy raises her hand and rushes over to the girl before Mom or Dad can even make it over to her. This isn't right… is it? I follow her over to the lady so I can hear what they're talking about… but I also feel like maybe I should go hug Mom….
"So I'm Ruby, and I handle the billing. We're looking at a discharge date for Lucy tomorrow, December the 17th. And that brings the total cost of all her services here at Dayton Children's Hospital to $32,124.09. Blue of Lima insurance company is prepared to cover $24,561.89, which leaves a total balance of $7,562.20 to be paid in full."
"What if we discharge her today? What if I sign her out today? How much does that shave the cost down?" Judy asks.
"Well, Dr. Shivanek is recommending her to stay tonight for observation before discharging her tomorrow, just to make sure everything is still stable. It'll be against the Dr.'s wishes to discharge her today."
"But she's fine, isn't she? And discharging her today would shave something off the bill, yes?"
"Uh…" Ruby stutters for a moment, clearly taken aback by the request. She punches some numbers into a calculator and clears her throat. "Discharging today would bring the total cost down to $7,312.03"
"Okay, so let's do that. Let's discharge her today." Judy nods. It's only a few hundred dollars less… wouldn't it be best to keep me here if the doctor says that's what I need? If it's only a few hundred dollars less?
"Um… okay, I'll just have to um… have you sign some papers that I can run down and print, no big deal." Ruby flips the page, flustered. "Dr. Lanay, the psychiatrist, is also recommending Lucy get more intensive therapy. It's recommended, but not required, but he can send a referral to a really great treatment facility that we use here and the hospital and —"
"Those cost a ton. I had her sent to one last summer and all they did was take the money and hand her back with the same problems." Judy shakes her head. Mom, seriously…? "She has a great therapist and a great psychiatrist back home. No need for anything extra."
"Okay, ma'am. And the last thing I need to discuss is the ongoing treatment that Lucy will have to receive from us. There was a report made with the children's division and we need to have follow ups with you and your husband just to ensure that Lucy is being taken care of."
"Just make it go away. She's not being neglected, she's not being abused, she's —"
"So you just want to send her home today even though the doctor is saying not to… because it'll save you two hundred bucks. And you don't want to do anything more intensive that might actually HELP her, because it costs too much money…?" Mom takes a few light steps over to us, but I can tell she's anything but calm… "And now you're telling her to make child services go away… when you and your husband CLEARLY failed this baby…?"
"This doesn't concern you —" Judy puts her hand up at Mom, which really sets Mom off.
"YOU'RE DAMN RIGHT IT CONCERNS ME! YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT HER! YOU JUST SHOWED UP SO YOU CAN HANDLE HOW MUCH MONEY IS BEING SPENT. THAT'S THE ONLY REASON YOU'RE HERE AFTER SIX DAYS. YOU GOT THE CALL THAT SHE WASN'T GONNA DIE AND THOUGHT 'oh shit, now I have to pay for her.' I KNOW YOUR ACT! YOU DON'T WANNA PAY NO MORE TO KEEP HER HERE."
Is that true…? It sure feels true…
I back away from Judy because it really feels true… I thought she came because she loved me but all it's been about is money… she doesn't love me… she's not my mom anymore. She doesn't love me… and I need a minute…
I walk down the hallway to go get some air. And as I'm leaving… all I hear is Mom — my TRUE MOTHER — yelling at Judy.
"I'm taking her off of you! I promise you Judy, she's gonna be mine! I'm getting her off of you, I don't care who I have to fight! We're gonna adopt her. She's gonna belong to me. I promise you that." She sounds calmer now…
"I promise you that." She says one last time.