Pricked

4

Stomach is non-distended, with no masses.

He removes his hands and moves for his bag pulling out a needle. He gently taps the needle into my finger, I glare at him as he does eyes wide with utter amazement.

"Don't you know that a pin prick is how I ended up like this?" I say getting as close to him as I can without going through him. A trickle of blood oozes out as he removes the needle. "Great," I say "because I need more blood taken from me." I know it's ridiculous, if I were to die from that one drop of blood being gone, well, then I would be dead and all this would end. But, I don't want to lose any more blood than necessary.

Pin prick and light touch is unreactive.

I sit next to myself and watch him blot my finger with a tissue. I doubt he will be back as he packs his things and leaves. He left a musty smell behind filling the room once he has gone, the smell lingered for a while until the next doctor is brought in and his repeated flatulence covers the cologne. What do you know I can smell! I hadn't noticed that before.

Dr. Stevens formally introduces himself until he realizes that I can't do or say anything. I am motionless and seemingly uninterested in his name, but I am interested in what he ate for breakfast because it is stinking up my room. Stevens mainly focuses on my throat and neck. Along with the puncture wound that was so small he missed it twice while searching my arms.

"Left arm," I say. "Right there," I point at the barely visible mark. "On my forearm." I say annoyed, pointing at the mark, even though he can't see me trying to help him. "THERE." I state, but it comes out as a demand. It makes me feel better to at least pretend that what I'm saying and doing is useful and not useless and invisible.

Once he finds the mark, he holds a finger on it while searching his bag for his bifocals. His bag, unlike Manson and Russo's, is beaten and ripping at the seams.

"Huh," he says.

"Well that's a great sign," I say sarcastically.

"Interesting."

"What's interesting? I know you think I can't hear... or smell you," I hold my nose close to block out the smell but it does no good. "But I can and I would LOVE to know what's so fascinating." I lean into him and look at the mark. It looks like a dot, nothing more, what could be so fascinating about that? He scribbles a few notes and I move to read it, but his writing is messy and illegible. "So either I have this awful disease that's going to keep me here forever or-"

He breaks my stream of thoughts.

"...nothing." He says.

"Nothing?" I repeat, "NOTHING!" I yell stomping my foot down in outrage. "What do you mean nothing?" I am no longer calm and trying to reason with myself. These doctors are idiots! That is the only logical explanation. He doesn't answer he just packs up and begins to leave. As the door opens the next doctor is waiting anxiously right outside the doorway. "IDIOTS!" I scream after him.

"Find anything interesting?" The next doctor asks.

"No, CBC, chemistries and thyroid values are all normal, from the other doctors' results" Stevens's replies sternly as he messes with his bag, trying to close the broken clasp. "HEENT was normal, no organomegaly masses..." Enough with all this doctor talk, its making my brain hurt!

"Seriously, I'm fine. Says every test ever, so why can't you fix me?" I glare at him questioning his doctoring license. "I'm waiting..." I sing as a slide through Dr. Stevens. He shivers and scans the room anxiously only to find no one and nothing, except me. Then he focus's his attention back to my next torturer.