Check-Up Day- Chapter 17- February 10th, 9 AM

It's time for Kyle to go back to the hospital for a check-up, but he has an extended visit that he didn't plan on staying for.

            A few days go by, and my mom called and scheduled an appointment with a therapist. I don’t know how about a bald guy in a dress shirt and khakis asking me, “Well how do you feel today?” How the f**k do you think I feel?! F*****g s****y. Oh, your wife just bought a new Mercedes Benz, guess what? I don’t care! Great, just great. Besides the fact of that, I have a doctor’s appointment to see how my scar is healing, and to see if they need to take out the stitches. I’m looking forward to getting out of the house.

The morning flies by and its now approaching time to leave for my appointment. I suppose I should hop in the shower. I get undressed and hopped in. I get the water adjusted to where I like it. I swear some days I should be a lobster because I take really hot showers where it almost burns my skin, but I like it that hot, it gets me extra clean. It’s too hot for a second because I’m not use to how hot the water is because this is only my second shower since I’d been home. The hospital bathed me in a warm bath, but it felt cold to me. It always takes me a few minutes to remember that I’m in the shower and to stop thinking about my life, but some days I can’t help it. I pick up the shampoo bottle and squeeze some of the soap out. It’s very slimy on my hands. I’m not use to the liquid soap, the hospital gave me a bar of soap. I play around with it in my hands a little bit before I put it on my hair. I mix around and it gets really soapy. I always close my eyes when I wash my hair so I don’t get soap in my eyes. I wash my hair for about a minute, I can feel the hot water just scorching my skin, but it feels nice. I rinse my hair and I can feel all the soap falling down my face. Almost all the soap is out when I slightly open my right open. First thing I see, I glance at my old razor. I shut my eyes quickly. No, that’s done, I thought to myself. I open both eyes this time, wide open. All I do is stare at that razor. It’s taunting me. I watch as my hand picks it up. I hold it. I feel like I have no more control of my body. I hold between my fingers. All those bad feelings and horrible experiences come rushing back into my mind. That familiar feeling of digging down deep into my skin, oops my bad. I lay my thumb on the bottom of my razor, pointer finger on top, get in place, go! Cut! Feels so much better.

            “Honey, are you almost done? We have to leave in a few minutes. I literally jump up, drop the razor, and muffled my mouth so I didn’t scream.

            “Yes, I’ll be out in a minute,” I tell her. I’m breathing very heavily, it feels like I almost got arrested by the police, I was that scared. I stare at the razor again, and then back at my wrist. Nothing is there. Just a daydream, but just the thought of it made me bring everything back. I don’t need it, but I don’t want to throw it away.

I thought everything was going to be okay, but I guess not.    I wash my body, and turn the water off and breathe. I just sit there for a minute and breathe. I can’t believe I would even consider going back to cutting again. I dry my body and comb my hair. I go out in the kitchen and meet my Mom.

            “Are you ready? She asks me.

            “Yes, I’m ready,” I tell her.

            I’m excited for today in a way because today is the day that Jamie comes to see me for the first time in a couple of months. I’m ready for the doctor’s appointment. I’m hoping that everything goes well and I’ clear to have my stitches removed soon. I also think that my doctor is going to refer me to a consoler so I can talk about my problems and what is going on in my life.

            The car trip was very boring, I haven’t been out of my house for about a week, it was nice to be out and about, but the trip was boring except being stuff in traffic for a few minutes because a car accident happened. I saw this white car all smashed up in the back and the front and a truck was involved. It literally looked like a bomb went off and all this carnage happened. It took a few minutes to get through the wreckage because the ambulance was trying to get through and so was traffic. It was a very tight squeeze to fit by the wreck because the crash happened on a straightway just passed the middle of the town which is very narrow. When my Mom drove through the crash scene, I heard a lot of commotion from police officers talking to emergency personal, from traffic officers guiding traffic. I heard this one police officer telling a fireman that, “we need to get this guy extracted from the car!” I guess the injuries were pretty bad if they were in such a frenzy to get the guy from the car.

            “It’s surprising how quickly these things happen,” my Mom tells me.

            “What car accidents?” I ask her.

            “Yeah,” she glances at me for a brief moment. “It is a shame that these kinds of accidents happen,” she adds. I nod to what she says. It gets me thinking about life for a second. I have my choice of life or death, and I unquestionably decided death three months ago that death was the ultimate decision for me, but when I see that lives are hurt in an instant by tragic events like these make me appreciate that I did survive my dumb choice.

            We were about a minute or so away from the hospital and my mom and I hear a blaring siren coming from behind us. My Mom pulls over to the side of the road, and we see a speeding ambulance roaring passed out with its flashy red, orange, and white lights and its loud siren.

            “That must be from the car accident I’m guessing,” I said.

            “Yeah, he must be in serious shape if they’re rushing him this quick to the hospital,” my Mom replied. My Mom and I pull into the hospital parking lot, I stare at the ambulance. I can vaguely see the stretcher as they pull the guy from the ambulance. I see a lot of blood and an oxygen mask, but that’s all I can see before they promptly rush him inside. The door shuts, I jump. My Mom has already got out of the car, so I follow suit. I open my door hoping that the guy will survive. I get up and my leg instantly cramps because I’ve been sitting in the same position too long. I limp for a few feet. I feel pain in my feet, like needles in my foot jabbing me at the same time. The pain slowly subsides after about ten seconds once my foot and leg wakes up.

            “Are you okay?” My mom asks me.

            “Yeah, I’m fine, my leg just fell asleep.”

            “Oh okay,” she looks forward like nothing happened.

            We walk in and the receptionist confirms everything with me, making sure I am who I am, my birthday, my address and reason why I’m here. After going through a quick registration, my mom and I find a seat in the waiting room, and I wait for my name to be called. I hope everything turns out swell and this will be a quick and easy process, I hate being in this place.

            “Kyle?” The nurse calls my name. I stand up and walk over to her, alone.

            “Hi, Kyle, how have you been?” She asks me.

            “I’ve been doing okay,” I tell her.

            “Has everything been going better lately?” I was taken back a little bit by her question because I didn’t know if she knew about my situation and what I went through, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she did know about me because most of the hospital knew about me because I was a “hot” case. The suicidal boy, yeah, it rings a bell.

            She brings me in the third room on the left. The room is bright and very white. I swear I’ve seeing Heaven or something.

            “I’ve been doing okay,” I tell her as I sit down. Now, here comes the fun part. The part where she starts asking me questions.

            “So, have you been taking your medications on a regular basis,” she doesn’t even look at me. She just stares at her laptop and waits for me to answer her question.

            “Yes, I take them every day just before breakfast,” I answer.

            “Have you been changing your bandages every day on your scar?”

            “Yes.”

            “Any complications, such as excess bleeding, vomiting, diarrhea,” she asks.

            “No, everything has been fine,” I tell her softly. I voice starts to drift off the more and more she asks me questions.

            “Okay, it seems like everything is going alright, Dr. Norris will be in, in just a moment,” she smiles, shakes my hand and leaves the room.

            I sit there silently. On the outside, I look calm and peaceful and ready to take on life with a head of steam, but on the inside, all the uncertainty and nervousness comes rushing, like a train back into my head all at once. I hate this place, it makes me cringe to be back in this place because I don’t want any reminders of this place and why I was here. People don’t understand once you’re here for a significant reason like I was, you don’t get over what happened to you just like that, and the next time you’re here, it makes you feel uneasy. I’m getting this worried feeling for some reason, and its making my hands sweat. Knots are in my stomach and I’m just nervous. I’m hyperventilating on the inside, but on the inside, I’m freaking the f**k out. I hear the door knob turn and I just about jump out my skin. Calm down, calm down, you’ll be okay. Breathe. Focus. I’m going to be okay.        

            “Hi Kyle, I’m Dr. Norris,” he smiles and shakes my hand.

            “Hi,” I say. You can tell that my voice is shaky and my hand is sweaty. I’m normally a quiet person anyways, but when I’m scared or nervous, I get even quieter.

            “How are you,” he asks me.

            “I’m okay, you?” I try to start a small conversation to take away some of my nervousness away.

            “So, you’re here so I can check up on how your wound on wrist is healing?” He seems almost uncertain to why I’m here.

            “Yes.” He puts gloves on his hands on, and sits on his wheelie chair. I stick my arm out. He takes the bandages off my wound, and looks at it. When he first looks at it, he seems taken back by how deep and how long of a cut it was. It was still red and sewed together, but they already took the stitches and staples out. I feel like if I made one little cut, the whole thing would burst open again. He runs his finger down the wound and examines it.

            “Well, I got good news and bad news for you,” he tells me. Oh joy, good part then bad part is how it’s going to go, wonder what the bad news is.

            “The good news is; your wound is healing nicely, but it’s not totally healed yet, it still needs to be bandaged up because it hasn't fully healed yet. If I feel like it’s still going to burst open without it bandaged, then it still needs to be wrapped up, but we will see in about a week or so to see if we can take off the bandage.” I nodded.

            “Now, the hospital has told me that you need me to get you involved with a counselor,” he tells me. I nod once again.

            “Yes,” I say.

            “Okay.” He looked through his papers to find the counselor that I am being assigned to. “You’re going to meet with Dr. Potter twice a week, starting on Monday at 3 PM, okay?”

            “Okay,” I say quietly.

            “You should be meeting with her every Monday and Thursday to talk about anything that is going on in your life. You’re going to have to be honest with her so she can understand your situation, and how to help you, and talk to you.” 

            “Okay, that should work.” 

            “Do you have any questions at all for me?”

            “None that I can think of at this moment,” I tell him.

            “Alright, looks like we are all set here,” he tells me. He shakes my hand, opens the door and waits for me to exit.

“It is nice to see you, Kyle,” he smiles. I walk away.

“You too sir,” I spit out. Hmm, that was weird. I never call anyone sir, usually. Whatever. I keep walking out to the waiting room. Now, that this is over I can go home and see Jamie, I smile to myself. I will be glad to him because I haven’t since the last time we spoke when we had that big fight.

            I open the exit door. I walk about three feet and stop. I look around to see my mother not in the room. I instantly get a sense of panic inside of me. Where did she go? Calm down, I tell myself. I breathe. I walk over to one of the chairs. She is probably just went to the bathroom is something, she’ll be back in just a few minutes. I sit down near the middle of the room. There is an older lady in the corner, she looks pale and white. She has sweatshirt on, and then a winter coat over that, she must be sick. It’s a mild winter day. It feels like its mid-April, It’s about 55 degrees out. I didn't even bring a coat with me.

            I wait five minutes. Still no sign of her. My mind is racing again, what if she left without me? She wouldn't, I knew she wouldn't. What if someone took her secretly? Wouldn't someone notice? I want to ask one of the receptionists where she went, but I’m too afraid, I’m too shy.

            A few of the receptionists in the office keeps looking at me, and whispering to themselves while looking at me. Am I doing something wrong? Do they know something that I don’t? One lady even pointed to me, and another women shook her head. I wait another couple of minutes, still no sign of my Mom, I really starting to get scared. What if I’m just left here? 

            Suddenly, a reception, one of them who keeps staring at me, walks over in my direction. I try to keep to myself and I don’t make eye contact because what if she’s not heading towards me, but she does.

            “Hi, are you Kyle Jenson?” She asks me in a concerned voice.

            “Yes,” I say softly, almost non-vocal.

            “I need you to come with me so we can go meet up with your mom,” she tells me.

            “Okay,” I say cautiously as I get up to follow her.

            She takes me through a section of the hospital that I’m fairly familiar with. A bunch of twists and turns. I look up at the signs to see where she is taking me. It is certainly not the exit. We go deeper and deeper into the hospital, I feel like this hospital is endless. She stops next to a door. She has said nothing to me, but I've said nothing to her either. I just follow her, but I want to ask so many questions, but I’m scared. She flashes her name badge at the scanner next to the door. It looks like this is one place in the hospital that require you to be an employee to enter. I look at the sign just before we enter. I instantly remember this appalling hallway. It is the hallway I was kept in for about a week, the ICU. I freak out. My stomach drops. What has happened to my Mom, is she okay? I’m starting to panic on the inside again. There is so many question I want to ask her, but I don’t; I just keep walking. We walk down this bright, white hallway. I see a lot of injured and sick people. I keep gazing into the rooms, and everyone looks like they’re in terrible shape. We go about halfway down the hall, just the pass the nurse’s station, and she stops.

            “She’s in here,” she tells me. She looks me in the eye, it almost looks like she has a tear in her. “Good luck,” she pats me on the shoulder, and then slowly walks away.

            “Thank you,” I say very softly, almost like my voice was croaking or something. I look up at the room number. ROOM 124 that is the room I was in. Holy s**t, what is going on? I breathe, but I can’t. It gets harder and harder to breathe and it seems like the walls are closing in on me, and all of this is happening within a few seconds. I don’t know what I’m going to see, but it’s probably not going to be pleasant. Am I going to see myself? Is all of this a dream? Am I still in the hospital? Has anything changed? I close my eyes, slide the curtain open, and enter. I open my eyes very leisurely, and as soon as they’re open, I feel instant pain. Once again, I want to scream my lungs out.

Reviews

[Maya Jane]

Wait a minute..what?! What happened to Mrs. Jenson???

[Linds]

WHAT?! John, this is not okay. You can't do this to me. Kyle is thinking about cutting and Jefferey got to Ms. Jenson?! No! Go change it. Not okay.

[Stacey]

Ooh, I do not like the sound of this at all. Now mom's in the ICU? Uh oh. That does not sound good. I hope that f****r Jeffrey didn't make good on his threat, or got wind that Kyle spoke out. I really hope she will be all right and he gets caught. As for comments on the book so far, very nicely written. You have a way with words that draws in the reader and grabs their attention from the very beginning. I'll be looking forward to see what happens next. I really hope she'll be all right. I know she's a book character, but I can't help but worry about her. But you know, that's a good thing. Because if the readers worry about her that means you've really drawn them in. Nice job.

Stacey

[John Duprey]

I'll have to let one more person read this chapter, then I will release the next chapter in the coming hours.