Old Friend From Far Away "Knew"
Monday, February 23rd, 2009 (7:30 p.m. in the ER)
I didn't want to know that the G.I (GastroInterology) specialist would poke around in my throat. I didn't want to know that they would insert a small camera into my esophagus to find the lodged toothpick. Most of all, I didn't want to know that I would be, "sedated" throughout the process. The nurse said sedated as if she were talking about making pie. "Oh, were gonna have to sedate you, that's all."
As I was lying in the all white bed, staring at the all white walls, I thought about how many people had died there. Am I gonna die here? I thought. I wanted to ask the nurses what percentage of people don't make it out of sedation. But after the clear liquid flowed into my veins, a dizziness consumed me and talking seemed impossible.
Darkness. No dreams. Voices. Nothing. Just darkness.
I was trying to wake up. I forced my eyelids open and the room blurred. The doctor was taking off his gloves and talking to me. I couldn't see make out his blurry face, but heard his voice. "We couldn't find it. It already went down into your intestines."
Saturday, February 21st, 2009 (11 p.m. at Dance Club)
"Oh my God...I think I swallowed the toothpick!" I said while coughing.
"What?" E said while laughing. The entire night we had laughed at my frailty--because we could point to any part of my body and I could tell him how much it hurt. My stomach, shoulders, back, foot, ev-ver-ry-thing! So, maybe he thought I was kidding, when I touched my throat and said I had swallowed a toothpick. "Do you want me to go to the bathroom with you?" I wanted to say, No because you are a guy, No because I am not a little girl, and No because I can handle this, but those were all excuses. I wanted him to be there. We shuffled to the ladies room and stood near the only toilet.
"Do you wanna throw it up?" E asked while leaning with me.
"No, I don't like throwing up."
"No one likes throwing up Maryam." E Said. We laughed and I felt the tiny piece of toothpick wiggle down my throat...but I decided not to worry about it.
Sunday, February 22nd, 2009 (Restaurant)
"Yeah she swallowed a toothpick." E said.
"No I didn't. Well not a whole one. And I can still feel it in my throat. I think the piece of toothpick is lodged in there." I corrected him.
"Either way, you need to go have someone look at that." Girl friend said.
"Yeah, cuz you don't want it to get infected." E said.
"Yeah." I nodded.
I didn't want to know that it would get infected or that my throat would swell up with pus and irritation if I didn't. I didn't want to know the truth.
I didn't want to know that the G.I (GastroInterology) specialist would poke around in my throat. I didn't want to know that they would insert a small camera into my esophagus to find the lodged toothpick. Most of all, I didn't want to know that I would be, "sedated" throughout the process. The nurse said sedated as if she were talking about making pie. "Oh, were gonna have to sedate you, that's all."
As I was lying in the all white bed, staring at the all white walls, I thought about how many people had died there. Am I gonna die here? I thought. I wanted to ask the nurses what percentage of people don't make it out of sedation. But after the clear liquid flowed into my veins, a dizziness consumed me and talking seemed impossible.
Darkness. No dreams. Voices. Nothing. Just darkness.
I was trying to wake up. I forced my eyelids open and the room blurred. The doctor was taking off his gloves and talking to me. I couldn't see make out his blurry face, but heard his voice. "We couldn't find it. It already went down into your intestines."
Saturday, February 21st, 2009 (11 p.m. at Dance Club)
"Oh my God...I think I swallowed the toothpick!" I said while coughing.
"What?" E said while laughing. The entire night we had laughed at my frailty--because we could point to any part of my body and I could tell him how much it hurt. My stomach, shoulders, back, foot, ev-ver-ry-thing! So, maybe he thought I was kidding, when I touched my throat and said I had swallowed a toothpick. "Do you want me to go to the bathroom with you?" I wanted to say, No because you are a guy, No because I am not a little girl, and No because I can handle this, but those were all excuses. I wanted him to be there. We shuffled to the ladies room and stood near the only toilet.
"Do you wanna throw it up?" E asked while leaning with me.
"No, I don't like throwing up."
"No one likes throwing up Maryam." E Said. We laughed and I felt the tiny piece of toothpick wiggle down my throat...but I decided not to worry about it.
Sunday, February 22nd, 2009 (Restaurant)
"Yeah she swallowed a toothpick." E said.
"No I didn't. Well not a whole one. And I can still feel it in my throat. I think the piece of toothpick is lodged in there." I corrected him.
"Either way, you need to go have someone look at that." Girl friend said.
"Yeah, cuz you don't want it to get infected." E said.
"Yeah." I nodded.
I didn't want to know that it would get infected or that my throat would swell up with pus and irritation if I didn't. I didn't want to know the truth.
I think we just missed each other at the ER. I was in late Friday night/early Saturday morning. Non-toothpick related gastrointestinal issues.
ReplyDeleteInteresting beginning, maybe, to a longer piece about other things you didn't want to know? You got me interested in wanting to know more about what happened and what it felt like and how in the world did you come to swallow a toothpick? ;-)
ReplyDeleteMaryum, this held my attention easily and i wanted to read on. I really liked how you used dialog to tell the story, a little more setting (and, ultimately, back story) might be an interesting addition. the time jump worked. can't wait to hear how it all comes out in the end. Then again, maybe i don't want to know... ; )
ReplyDeleteI like the way this is set up, with the end first and then the story. It works well, and it works with the tone of the piece. I did get the feeling that there is a lot more to this story, though.
ReplyDelete