The Premises of an Ideal Life and Additional Poetry

Chapter 2

As soon as Aria came back from the short blackout, she could feel her legs sore and fingers rusty, incapable of neither moving nor folding. Contentment is welling from all her pores since she didn’t have to endure any horrific spectrals and smelly bats on her consciousness again. Aria couldn’t ask for more than being sane and not another nineteen-year-old girl vanished from this world. Like any person that has slept for over hours, her eyes are awfully itchy like a mosquito has stung the very center of her cornea. Thanks to the fact that she doesn't have the necessary strength to move and end her misery, the situation gets distressing.
The girl’s mother is in a vale of tears, shouting out to the whole hospital that her daughter has come back and has always been a fierce fighter- quite repudiated comment by Aria, who can’t stop feeling somehow guilty about not being at all. Two doctors wearing peacock blue scrubs rush inside, with doubtful grins and the promise of something worse to come. The ill girl can’t distinguish the exact words the three standing people are saying. Whatsoever, a little less disoriented, she identifies two voices discussing: Lila, the tall doctor on her right, and her mother.
“It’s crucial for her to have a check-up so we can know for sure if the coma hasn’t caused any traumatic brain injury in Aria at this stage as well as determining her treatment from now on based on the results.” sort this out
“I get it, doctor, I really do, but what would you do if your only family member just came back from the dead? Wouldn’t you like to sort out whatever happened and talk to them first?”. As Lila doesn’t respond,  the girl almost chucks as she can see the forming fist at the side of her mother’s leg, the popular fight or flight response. The moody old woman stares right at her daughter’s left-side doctor with a questioning countenance and inquiries: “Wouldn’t you, Robert?”.
The air in the room gets tense as none of the two healthcare professionals answer her. Aria can almost see the weight on her mother’s shoulder flowing in the rhythm of despair, as the worn-out woman has to decide on whether to approve of the test or not. After the brawl the two relatives had on the phone minutes before the car crash, Aria can’t stop from thinking: I bet this “talk” will be a cold scowl for damaging her cheap red car which I still doubt was purchased at a garage… Even so, a pang of guilt and lack of fresh air begins to compress Aria’s vein pressure and, without meaning to, the brunette starts to cry and to pant making weird sounds- incapable of opening her mouth to at least weep correctly.
The mother turns around, gazing at her daughter with such worry and pity in her eyes that Aria gets angry for being a pain in the neck, only causing more expenses for the family, unable to do anything nor say how sorry she is. Head down and eyebrows up- glancing from the clipboard to the elder- Lila approaches the proposal once more, with that acidic voice used by doctors in times of crisis:
“Honestly Clare, I would love to hug my daughter so hard to the point of squishing her lungs, but I would consider all the facts professionals would give me and decide on what is better for her physical health rather than impeding something that may prevent future damages because of a need to chitchat. Right now, madam, we have to let our attachment aside and choose the only good and prosperous path for her. That is, doing the tests.”
Clare’s old, exhausted soul gives way to redemption as she finally nods to the doctors, who don’t spare one more minute inside the room and show a face resembling one of relief. Aria isn’t able to decipher her mother’s reaction after this loss though, because, in order to pay attention to the quarrel, she ended up emptying all of her energy, forcing her to go back to sleep.
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Aria has been lying still for three hours, continuously going and coming back from naps, similar to a fragile toddler in their first months out of the placenta. Waiting for the time of the tests has never been so nerve-wracking for her. Having heard barely anything from the early conversation, her hands start shaking and palms sweating as she reflects upon the results that might come. Attempting to keep a clear mind as the doctors prescripted, the girl contemplates the idea of starting a life from scratch; rooting out midnight parties with stinking, drunkard friends, half of the day under dirty bed sheets. But most importantly, no swearing at her mother or rebuking her love anymore. Although Aria’s plans are a stimulating force, her conscience becomes absent again, pondering on the fact that all of these ideas are relying on the test results to occur.
She notices Clare sleeping profoundly in the corner of the room, seated down on an armchair, head buried in the middle of her legs, reminding the nineteen-year-old girl of the time when she went to a friend’s party- she can’t remember exactly who it was except that she had just articulated two syllables towards the girl- and it was a memorable day for her since it was the first time she drank beer. Having never undergone such an occasion, the exhilarated Aria went too far in the number of tins, she was fifteen then. When she came back home, her mother didn’t think twice about assisting her to clean the yellowish, predominant smell of vomit spilled all over her daughter’s white shirt and prepared a warm, cozy tea to calm her down. The position Clare is now in is strangely similar to the one Aria did that day, keeping her head down on her legs, because of both shame and stomachache at the time.
Aria catches the noise of a high heel shoe walking through the hospital’s tile floor and immediately thinks of Lila. It’s not her though, but an older woman, must be a more experienced one, and of a sweeter character, with a broad smile and a vibrant red lipstick, which reminds Aria of the wounded and terrifying rat from her nightmare.
Seeing that the patient is awake, the woman says:
“It’s nice to finally meet you Aria, I’m Laura, one of the emergency department’s nurses. I’m here to get you ready for your tests and to offer my help for whatever you need sweetheart, anything at all. Just ask!”
Laura has a caring voice that echoes in Aria’s whole being and makes her ponder whether having a soft-hearted voice is one of the requirements for being a nurse, especially for such a disastrous department like the one she is in. Laura doesn’t give a single minute for Aria to breathe and reply, quickly rearranging her pillow and separating medications. Unexpectedly, the nurse's hand sends one of the med’s little boxes down, making a loud noise and waking Clare up. The mother’s throat croaks in fright for the sound in the room, propelling Laura and Aria to snicker. Clare’s hair is tangled in a ball of mess and has popped red eyes, making clear the lack of happiness in having to be brought back to real life. Cleaning her spit-covered mouth, Clare asks:
“Excuse me, who are you? Are you here for the tests? I thought we’d have more time before they happened.”
“Yes Ms, the former idea was to wait for a bit before the tests, but given your daughter’s fast response to the medications, we decided to quicken things up.”
“I see…”
After so many years living together, Aria can sense her mother’s ever growing annoyance, thanks to the fact that no one had warned her about this change in plans. Although the girl awaits the explosion, Clare controls her temper and doesn’t say a thing; she is fed up with fighting and goes for the easiest reaction for once.
Aria can’t bear the unknown anymore and begins asking for all the information Laura can give about the tests, while she tidies up the girl’s engines next to her.
“If there’s something you don’t need to worry about, Aria are the tests. They are only going to examine your bilateral hemisphere cortex, which is the reticular activating system that controls the transitions between sleep and wake. It’s very confusing to explain, but you have to trust the doctors. I know this whole situation is quite overwhelming, I can’t fathom how it must be like to go through such a thing, but you need to overcome these feelings of hopelessness, darling. Be cooperative. You must have heard this a lot, but the docs need these tests to have complete knowledge of your progress, okay honey?”
Seeing the downward demeanor of the patient and leaning closer to her, Laura persists:
“Would you like me to get anything for you, perhaps some chocolate?”. As if the nurse had pressed a hidden button, Aria’s eyebrows go up as she reticently asks: “Do you have peanut butter cups by any chance?”
Before the nurse can answer, Clare smiles at her daughter’s excited face and says:
“Oh, you have to see this one on Halloween. She looks for all the tiny peanut butter cups in the bag, stacks them up on the sink, and eats all of them in a heartbeat. Just like the little kids!”
The room gets filled with the joyous laughs of the three women, two of them have been a long time without hearing or producing such special sounds. The atmosphere becomes dense and packed again, and what is left is that uncomfortable feeling when all the laughs die down and there’s nothing to say to fill up the silence. Before the situation can get any awkward, Laura goes to fetch the chocolate in the food machine.
Five minutes later, Laura enters the hospital room with arms full of chocolate packages, with a sheepish smile imprinted on her face, with no remorseful expression whatsoever.
“I brought you some extra peanut butter cups so I don’t get worried about your gloomy mood, ok? Don’t eat them all at once though.”
Aria’s hands reach for the sweets, holding the mountain of chocolate in her lap like a dear thing, already occupied in opening one. Contemplating all her daughter’s enthusiasm, Clare interrupts:
“Are you kidding me? Honey, did you listen to Laura? You can’t eat all of them in a mouthful. I’m sure it’s not good for the tests either”
Getting no reaction from the transfixed girl, the nurse frowns:
“Let’s make a deal. Every one hour, you’re going to eat one of them; your mom can keep track of time. Does that work for you?”
Turning her head the opposite way from the nutty candy, Aria agrees with a reluctant nod, considering that her teeth are concealed in sticky peanut butter.
As the three of them hear someone approaching, Laura puts the sweets inside a red bag and relocates it on the counter. Aria cleans her lips with the dusty napkins kept at the side of the bed.
When Aria sees Lila's shoes entering the door, she gulps, takes a deep breath, tries to grasp the remnant taste of the chocolate in her mouth, and has the impression she is finally ready for the tests. Now she understands why the nurse was sent here, she has that vigorous spirit that infects all the patients and makes them fail to remember why they were sad in the first place.