Sister City

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

It turns out that the Kaiser hospital in Sacramento is distressingly similar to the one in Santa Rosa. Different nurses, different ER staff, same pale, boring walls and rough blue hospital blankets. I found myself in a private room, a first for me, waiting to be seen by the resident orthopedist. The IV in the back of my hand was still nearly full, which meant another hour hooked up to the saline at bare minimum before I would be free to go. I contemplated removing the IV.

“Sorry it took us so long,” Mom said, sounding like she was directly outside the room. “Jill kept telling us to make a u-turn.”

“Sometimes I wonder if it's worth the money every year to update her maps,” Dad said disgustedly. “Even after we buy the new maps, she’s always recalculating. I don’t think having a GPS is worth the hassle.”

“What are we going to do?” Mom asked. She continued on, but her voice dropped and I couldn't make out what she was saying.

“It's not like we have many choices.”

There were only bits and pieces of mumbled conversation before I heard Mom say, “Rehab?”

“Surgery.”

I heard the last word from my Dad and started to silently cry. I steeled myself when I heard the door creak open and quickly closed my eyes to avoid unnecessary hugging. They were wrong. I wouldn’t need surgery. I wouldn’t need rehab. A day or so of rest and I’d be back on my feet, ready to throw another whip back-double full. Wouldn’t they all feel stupid when the orthopedist, who was taking his sweet time getting to see me, thank you very much, told them so?

Unfortunately, nobody was available to see me until the morning. I was going to be x-rayed within an inch of my life tonight, but no medical tomfoolery would take place. I would have to stay in the room by myself all night long, wondering what was going to happen. After hearing Mom and Dad, I was pretty sure that my news would not be good.

The x-ray technician was clinical. I'm sure he would be friendly in another situation, but he most certainly wasn't in this situation. He spoke a total of three sentences to me the entire time he was bending me into extremely uncomfortable positions.

“Move it just like this” was followed by “Hold still, please” which was followed by “Next slide”.

It was bleak and depressing in the room, and the only thing to distract me from the boring walls was the little collection of magnets he used to distinguish my right from my left. They weren't even that interesting, but I used the random placement to create awkward patterns that distracted me from the pain.

Visiting hours were over when I finally made it back to my room. I collapsed on the bed and tried to snuggle up under the covers before I froze too death. On cue, Nichole arrived to check on me.

Her fingers were cold and pinched me slightly while she was checking my vitals and getting me prepped for bed. I wondered if she had a caring bone in her body.

“Warm blanket?” Kim K. asked as she bustled in the door carrying several heated blankets. She didn’t have a single bone in her body that wasn’t chock full of caring.

“Thank you,” I replied gratefully, trying not to stare at her enormous boobs and trying to decide if there was a direct correlation between the level of caring and the size of a person’s boobs.

“Isn't it time you went home?” Nichole, who had decidedly small boobs, asked rudely.

“On my way, dear,” Kim K. replied. “Just thought she might be cold after a couple of hours in x-ray. I noticed you hadn't grabbed any, so I did.”