Downward Slide

Downward Slide

The drive to Roanoke was hard. Construction stops along the way along with lane closures made the two hour drive a four hour obstacle course.

 

Barbara was driving, fuming at the same time. She was mad at the state for upsetting her drive; and at some of the drivers for not paying closer attention.  When we arrived at the regional hospital, Barbie was tired.  Tired than normal.

 

"I sure hope that they can get me in and out of there as soon as possible," she said, getting out of the car and waiting for me to get out before electronically locking the door with her key fob.

 

"And that they have someone who will know how to clear the cath..." she added.

 

We walked in, and as I stood around waiting it seemed for the next bus or train, Barbara checked herself in and provided the various papers she stashed in her purse.

 

"You have to be Mike."  The woman was tall but thick. She carried that same Southern accent in her voice that my Barbie had. A pair of small narrow glasses framed the top part of her round face.  The grey hair was tinged with streaks of yellow.

 

"I am. You are..." I asked, extending my hand.

 

"Oh put your hand down and give me a hug please..." I embraced the woman and kissed her on the cheek.

 

"Imogene."

 

"I know...you sound like your sister!" We broke off the embrace and she looked at me and smiled.

 

"Yes, I know and I'm happy to finally meet you. Barbara Faye talks about you to no end. You're a big fan of her fried steak and potatoes."

 

I waited for her to sit down, and then I sat down beside her.  We small talked about the drive and then Barbara came over and greeted her younger sister.

 

"See...I told you he's not scary at all...", Barbie said, pointing at me. "She thought you would be one of those thuggish looking fellas..."

 

"I can go into the men's room and take off this mask," I said smiling. Barbie punched me on the shoulder.

 

"Bad man!" We both giggled.

 

"So, they take me into the room, get me ready and then they take some blood and flush the portacath. I get to talk to the doc. About 30 minutes or so. Imma, you want to come with me or keep Mike company?"

 

"I haven't seen what they do...I want to come with you..." I smiled and stood up.  I then kissed Barbara on the lips and on her forehead.

 

"Have fun...as much as you can having to sit there while they run saline through that thing..." I said. "I'll be here...I've got the TV, papers and magazines."

 

What started out to be a 20 to 30 minute process -- I have been through it several times with Barbara over the years -- was taking a bit longer. The television was showing one of those afternoon "judge" shows, not really something I was interested in.

 

Every once in a while I would look up while the judge gave his statement. The gavel would fall and the music would start in. I looked back at the stacks of paper products on the table.  The newspapers were mainly the sports and business sections -- it appeared someone took off with the main news section. I read through the business section, skipping the several pages of market numbers.  My eyes and brain went through several issues of various national and regional magazines, mostly glancing at the covers and scanning some of the articles.

 

I looked outside and saw that the sky was turning a misty shade of pale. Droplets of rain hit the many windows separating the outside weather from the inside noise.

 

My mind really was going back to the first time Barbara and I went to a hospital to have this procedure done.  It was two months or so after we started to date.

 

I noticed the small cath plug embedded in her chest, above her left breast the night before.  Out of respect, I made no mention of it -- but she did.

 

"Ever see one of these, honey?" she cooed, pointing to it so I could clearly see it.

 

"No. Is that where they hook you up to a generator and give you more energy?" I smiled. "If that's the case, sign me up for one of those -- we could be a matched set."

 

"Oh you silly man...", she remarked.  "This is where they can put in IVs, or dye my blood, or check it, or insert that awful chemo stuff -- I hope to have it removed some day and never have anyone to use it."

 

I kissed it gently.

 

"I'm sorry you have to wear it." I said, lowering the gown she was wearing.  

 

"Just be careful with it....I've had to had it re-installed a couple of times over the years and it's not pleasant."

 

I kissed her lips.

 

"I don't want to be re-installing anything associated with you," I said.

 

The next day, we drove to the hospital not too far from her trailer.  After several discussions with various people, Barbara calmly but forcefully told them "He's family," pointing to me, "and if I want him to see what I do with my body, you'd damned better let him in here..."

 

It was one of the few times I actually heard the Southern Belle swear -- at anything or anyone. She makes a great nurse.

 

I sat in a chair in the examining room while a young woman attached wires to various parts of Barbara's body and then to a box so that they could monitor her vital signs.  Then the doctor, along with two other medical personnel came in and looked at the portacath, the skin around it, and asked Barbie if she had any discomfort lately.  Not hearing or observing any, the doctor left and one of the technicians, Dave, attached a saline solution bag to a needle. He then applied a needle to a slender tube and attached it to the portacath and showed one of the several purposes of the device.

 

"I'm Dave. I'm going to remove some blood from Miss Barbara's heart through this portacath," he said, almost filling the tube with Barbara's blood, then removing the tube and then removing the needle. "It keeps us from having to run several lines in her arm or leg..."

 

Then he opened another needle and attached it to the plastic tubing and then looked at me while holding what to me was a long needle.

 

"We do this so that that Miss Barbara's blood does not clot and block the line. If that happened, we'll have to remove the cath and reattach another one...which could be more pain than this..."  Dave turned around and attached the long needle into the portacath's hole and ran the needle down the line inside Barbara's body several times back and forth in a rather gentle fashion.

 

He then reached up and grabbed the saline solution bag and squeezed it so that the liquid would flow from the bag through the needle and into Barbie. Barbara grimaced a bit, but then relaxed as the liquid did it's job in keeping the opening open.

 

"We keep this dripping a bit and then I'll be back to remove the bag and line," Dave said. "Try to keep her from moving a lot..."  He left with the needles and the blood sample.

 

I sat there and for a few seconds, did not say a word.

 

"Finished ogling me?"

 

"I never get tired of looking at you...clothed, unclothed, or wired for sound and lights..." I said. I got up out of my seat and walked over to her as she laid on the hospital bed. There was a small pool of blood on the gown where Dave was working the needle back and forth to clear the line.

 

"You realize that you're the first man I've dated to see this, right? Means that I think you're something good, Michael."

 

I smiled and blushed a bit. I am not used to getting those kinds of compliments.

 

"Thank you," I replied, not knowing really what to say.

 

"So this means that we're going steady, right?" I finally asked, finding her left hand and holding it in my right one.

 

"We've been going steady for the last few months, don'tcha think?"

 

 

 

Imogene came over and sat down beside me.

 

"Where's Barbara?"

 

"They're taking her upstairs. We'll be here for a while..."