The woman who ate her husband

he nurse pushed Catrina Holdaway’s wheelchair slowly out the door. Her husband, Paul, lifted her gently out of the chair and eased her into their tiny, steel blue car.

“How are you feeling, Cat?” he asked. Cat shifted in her seat and moaned. “Sorry,” Paul said regretfully. “Stupid question. How should you feel, after all you went through? Well, don’t worry. We’ll stop at the pharmacy on the way home. The doctor prescribed some painkillers and something to help you sleep. In a few more days, you’ll be just fine. Until then, I’ll stay home from work and help you out. Whatever you need. Just get better, OK?”

“Ugh.” Cat closed her eyes, in too much pain to speak.

Three weeks later, Paul and Cat sat in their living room, watching the news. Their small, black projection unit buzzed quietly. It was an older model that couldn’t create a hologram much wider than six feet.

The image of a bubbly, redheaded reporter was describing the aftermath of an earthquake. She was new to television, and hadn’t learned to act properly upset by natural disasters. “And in other news,” she said, “A local woman has received the world’s first wholly artificial digestive system.”

“Do you want to hear this?” Paul asked his wife. “I could turn it off…”

“No, leave it on. I want to see what they say about me.”

“Last year, Catrina Holdaway came down with a rare form of stomach cancer called Colamarino’s Disease. This condition is highly resistant to chemotherapy and usually spreads to the large and small intestines. Despite the odds against success, Mrs. Holdaway opted to receive chemotherapy anyway. After months of treatment with no results, her digestive system began to fail. Her husband, through research on the internet, had come across a team of scientists and medical doctors in India that were developing new artificial organs. After a discussion with his wife, she volunteered to test the new inventions. The organs were shipped to America, and surgery took place a few days later. In the three weeks since the surgery, Mr. and Mrs. Holdaway have refused all requests for interviews. However, their doctors tell us that Catrina has made a rapid recovery and is doing just fine. And now, in entertainment news…”

Cat laughed. “Yeah, just fine. Except now I have to keep injecting myself with stomach acid and my pee is bright green. Other than that…”

Paul put his arm around Cat and pulled her close. “Come on, Honey. It could have been a lot worse. In the old days, the most they could have done is given you a colostomy bag. Refilling your stomach with acid is a lot better than carrying around a fanny pack full of – well, you know.

Cat laid her head on Paul’s shoulder. “I guess I have got it pretty good.” Whispering, she added, “Switch it to the sunset channel…” The image changed into a fiery, orange and pink sky. It was beautiful, but Paul was too busy with other things to notice.

Six months later, Cat stood in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom. “I can finally do it,” she said to herself. “I can throw away this damn wig.” She pulled off the mass of artificial, blonde hair and tossed it into the wastebasket. “Hair’s still mighty short… But it’ll look good with earrings.” Cat found some gold hoops Paul had given her for Christmas, and returned to the mirror. Her boyish cut and freckled cheeks made her look much younger than twenty-five.

Cat opened her closet and took out her medical kit. Inside were some syringes and a bottle of digestive acid. She filled a syringe and pulled up her shirt. The doctors had implanted an access tube to her stomach, so she could refill it with artificial digestive acid and enzymes. The end of the tube was concealed in her navel. Cat stuck the needle into the tube and smiled. “I must be the only person in the world with a bellybutton that actually does something!”