Pain & Gain

Chapter 10

My headache pierces my brain every chance it gets. I'm sitting on the edge of a hospital bed waiting for the doctor to come in. Marshall brought me here after I fainted. It's busy in the hospital today, they wouldn't even let Marshall come in with me. The bed I'm on is one of few that are inside of a room, there are many beds placed in the hallways and between rooms.
The ache in my temple pounds a few times and I cringe, pressing my palm against it. Damn I feel sick again. I grip my stomach and suddenly the door is opened to my room.
The man that enters is young, late twenties. And cute. He holds a clip board and scans it, then looking up at me. He looks like a young Rob Lowe.

"Hello Rachel." He says and smiles, offering me his hand to shake. "I'm Dr. Ellis I'll be checking you out today."

I shake his hand once and am reminded of my headache almost immediately. Ellis sits at the edge of my bed and sets the chart down next to him.

"So you fainted." He starts, holding a light up to my eye and asking me to follow his finger.

"Yes." I say.

"Scale of one to ten how bad is the headache?" He puts in his stethoscope and asks me to take deep breaths.

"Five." I answer after he last breath.

"It's common after passing out." He explains, scribbling something down on the chart. "Well it looks like just a good old fashioned faint." He laughs. "You should be alright just stay hydrated and don't run any marathons for a day or two." Ellis smiles and flips the chart closed. "Anything else before I turn this in to discharge you?"

"Well actually..." I say, feeling a cramp in my stomach. "I've been feeling really nauseous since before I fainted."

"Nauseous?" He raises a brow and pulls the chart back out.

"Yes is that bad?" I ask, reading his expression.

"Not bad just abnormal." He stands from the bed. "Sit up real straight for me."

I sit up straight and feel a pain in my stomach that causes me to crunch.

"Abdominal pain?"

"Very little." I answer.

He takes a deep breath and asks me to lay down. I do as he asks and lay on my back. Ellis begins feeling my stomach and lower abdomen. I flinch.

"Does that hurt?" He asks. "Around here?" Ellis retouches the painful area.

"Yes." I breathe.

Ellis removes his hands and picks the chart back up. He sits in the chair beside the bed and clicks his pen. He sits back and pulls out a pit of eyeglasses.

"Are you sexually active Rachel?" He asks.

Damn looks like we're starting with the bold ones first.

"Yes." I answer.

"Last menstrual period?"

"The 3rd last month."

Ellis scribbles something down on the chart and I lean over trying to catch a glimpse of what it is.

"Are you allergic to any medications?"

"No none that I know of."

"Okay I'm gonna need to draw some blood and do a urine analysis." He flips the chart closed and stands. "I just want to be a hundred percent sure this pain and nausea is just due to the stress." He walks to the door, "I'll be back to take your blood in the mean time here's the urine sample kit and the bathroom is right there."

Ellis points to the other door in the room. He offers one more smile and then exits. Over the course of another ten minutes I take the urine sample and await his return while sitting on the bed.
My mind drifts to Marshall. He's out there surrounded by other people waiting for their loved ones. I don't know why this is taking so long, am I sick? I don't remember being around anyone that's sick. I just feel like I'm going to throw up maybe I have the flu. It wouldn't shock me if I picked it up at the gym.
My mind takes another turn and I start thinking about the truck. What happened? I hate that I blacked out because now I won't know until I'm out of here. Who was that guy? He looked like an ordinary man, he didn't seem to have any reason to hurt anyone. But they never do.
I'm brought back to reality when Ellis opens the door again. This time carrying a blood drawing kit. I'm instructed to sit on the bed while he sits in the chair beside me. He preps my arm, sterilizing it and then searching for my vein. I watch him prep the needle and I turn my head in the opposite direction.

"Don't like needles?" He asks, getting the vials ready.

"Not really." I say, sneaking short glances at the activity on my arm.

"Me either." He laughs, then pricks me.

"You're a doctor." I tell him. "You're with needles all the time."

"Well I'm around them a lot." He explains, changing the vial. "But I don't particularly like them."

I nod, my eyes are trained on the needle that's sucking my blood like a leech. Jesus, how much blood is he gonna take?

"If you don't mind me asking, where did the scars come from?" He asks, referring to the ones on my arm. "They don't look like self harm scars."

"They're not." I sigh, really not wanting to talk about it. "I fell on some glass."

"Really?" He asks in disbelief, taking my opposite arm and examining the scar closely.

Ellis drops my arm momentarily and takes the last vial of blood. He removes the needle and puts everything back in its place in the kit and then directs his attention back to the scars.

"Yes." I answer. "There was glass on the ground and it was dark. I couldn't see." I leave out the part about me being attacked, I don't really feel like explaining it anymore.

"What type of glass?" He rotates my arm, now looking at the underside. "This isn't standard window glass."

"You can tell just by looking at it?"

"Oh yes." He nods. "Regular glass gives a straight clean cut. Glass fused with plastic leaves shallow cuts, ones you wouldn't even need stitches for. But this, these are jagged. I've never seen this before."

"It was from a headlight." I explain. "Someone had busted the front light of their car and the glass was all over the ground."

"Headlights?" I don't think he realizes how shocked he sounds. "Wow." His eyes widen and he holds up my arm. "That's amazing."

My eyebrows furrow. Ellis places my arm back down on the bed.

"I mean not amazing you got cut but the cuts themselves are very intriguing." He laughs, putting the urine sample in the kit as well. "You know us doctors," he laughs, "We're always looking for outrageous medical obscenities."

"You think they're an obscenity?" I ask, only a touch of offense in my voice.

"Those scars tell me you didn't just fall." He says. "They're too long and too deep. I'm a doctor Rachel, I study these things. What happened to you, whatever it may be, was an obscenity."

I half smile and he notifies me that he will be back with the test results within the hour. Once he's gone I roll my eyes. Another whole hour. What am I even supposed to do in here? This was not how today was supposed to go. It was supposed to be the first normal day we've had in a long time. But no, we can't even get that. Not one day off from this ridiculous hell of a life Marshall and I live together.
I feel myself getting angry. I can't peg my feeling but it feels a lot like jealousy. I'm jealous of other people. People who can go for walks in the middle of the night and not worry about being attacked. Dammit, I'm jealous. Not of anyone I know, just the human race in general. I am jealous of people who are normal.
It's not anything against Marshall. I don't even know who it's against. If it's even against anyone. I think my feeling will die down when they finally arrest Jon. It's just a matter of time. I don't know how long that will take. Also Emmett is scheduled to come back very soon, and I don't know how Marshall is going to take that. I don't think he will take it lightly. I know he won't be able to control his anger let alone be nice to him. I don't want him to be nice to Emmett. But I want things to go back to normal. If that's what it takes then I am ready to deal with it.
Fifteen more minutes go by and I'm completely immersed in my thoughts. Ellis knocks three times on the door and then comes back in with the same clipboard and chart. I straighten up, and he sits down in the chair next to the bed.

"Well your blood work didn't show any signs of problems which is good." He explains. "Your a very healthy O negative." He laughs slightly. "Something did come back from the urine sample that I think will explain the nausea and abdominal pain."

"Am I sick?" I ask him.

"No Rachel you are not sick." He flips the chart closed and looks at me again. "You're pregnant."