White Keys and Black Coffee

Dream Homes and Doctor Appointments

CHAPTER THREE

Going out for coffee with Peter was, to say the least, wonderful.  Fish discovered over an hour and a half and two orders of coffee that Peter was one of those people who is simply easy to talk to.  He was kind, witty, and a little boyish.

The two had sat in Starbucks and talked about everything.  Fish learned a lot about a senior whom she had only really met earlier that morning.

First, she learned that he was a photographer.  And a damn good one at that.

"Wanna see the pictures I took in Colorado?" Peter had asked eagerly.  He reminded Fish of a little kid.  Before she could reply, he was retrieving his phone from his pocket.  The first photo was of a house.

"What's this?" Fish asked.  The house was lovely.

"It's my dream home," Peter explained.  Fish almost laughed.  "It's on the side of a mountain in Colorado, and there's a koi pond and balcony.  You can see for miles.  In the morning, the sunrise is breathtaking."

You're breathtaking, Fish thought.  She smiled to herself.

"This picture was taken from the car," Peter said as he clicked to the next image.  It was of a sunset.  There was a row of mountains on the horizon.  It was a beautiful shot.

"Wow," Fish praised.  "This is really good."

"It's not that great," Peter said humbly.  "I've had much better."

Fish gave him a look.  He laughed and stopped protesting.

Among various other small facts, Fish learned that Peter loved Recess Peanutbutter Cups and Twizzlers, hated Sandra Bullock's acting, and had never had chai tea before.  He was a baseball pitcher, football running back, and a very good tennis player.  But like Fish, he had an injury.

"I pulled a muscle in my right shoulder," he had explained.  "The doctors don't think I'll be able to play sports for a few years."

"I know how you feel," Fish sympathized.  She took a deep breath and told him everything.

"I woke up on a Sunday in September with pain in my wrist.  At first, I didn't think much of it.  I had been playing piano more than I usually did to prepare for a competition, so I figured maybe I'd just over done it.  The next morning, the pain was still there.  I told my dad, and he said to wait a few days and then he would take me to the clinic.

"On Tuesday, I begged him to schedule an appointment and on Thursday we paid a visit to a physician.  He looked at my hand, asked me to explain my symptoms, which were extreme pain, and told me I had a case of tendonitis.  Pain medication was perscribed, physical therapy was set up, and I was sent home."

Fish looked up to see if Peter was still listening.  He was, so she continued.

"I went to five appointments with my therapist before realizing that none of the treatment was working at all.  If anything, my wrist was only getting worse.  He told me to go to an orthopedic surgeon, Dr. Gaffey, and have him look at my hand.  We made the appointment as soon as possible.

"Before I even saw Dr. Gaffey, a nurse took me to have an X-ray done.  Once we had done that, we were taken to see the orthopedic surgeon.  Dr. Gaffey told me that my physician was an idiot.  I couldn't have tendonitis because I had pain all over my wrist.  Tendonitis causes pain in mainly one area.  He said my bone structure looked normal, no signs of carpel tunnel.  He told us we should go see a pain specialist.  Cue another appointment.

"The pain specialist asked tons of questions about every little thing, and then said he needed to draw blood."  Fish shivered a little.  She wasn't as scared of needles as she used to be, but the thought of them still freaked her out.  "Anyways, he drew the blood and tested for juvenile rhumatiod arthritis."  Fish's worst nightmare.

"Thankfully, the test came back negative.  We made another visit to Dr. Gaffey to talk with him about the results, and he said I might have a rare. . ." Fish sought for the word here.  "A rare predicament called complex regional pain syndrome.  And that's where we stand so far."

Peter audibly let out a breath.  "So, they have no idea what's wrong?"

"That pretty much sums it up," Fish said, defeated. 

Peter looked up at the coffee cup-shaped clock on the wall and said that they needed to be getting back to class.  The two stood and made their way back to Peter's car.  Before they got in, Peter stopped her.

He took her in his arms and gave her the kind of hug that makes you close your eyes and just let go.