“How long has she been out?”
Whose voice is that?
“I don’t know. I opened the door and I found her on the ground. A little bit of blood was there, too. I’m soo sorry.”
That’s Cassidy for sure. . . . . .Blood, what she talkin’ ‘bout blood.
“It’s okay. We don’t know why, but she developed this thing with sleeping on doors.”
I have not!
“Judging on the wound, they’re going to have to cut her hair to stitch it up.”
As if! They are not cutting this luscious hair that took me a long time to grow. My hair takes for-e-ver to grow!
“Girl, wake up! You not making me feel guilty. Got me speaking improper English. Tsk. Got me twisted. Wake up!”
“Cassidy!” someone scolded.
“What?! She awake. I don’t know why y’all think my lil’ ‘rant’ gon’ mess her up. It’s just a 2 inch wound. Just cut the hair around the wound, disinfect it, sterilize it, whatever, sew it up, let it heal and BOOM! Done!”
“That’s my girl. Come on, son!” I said. Oops.
“I told you she was awake.” Cassidy exclaimed.
“I’m at the hospital, aren’t I?” I asked.
“Yes, you are, Miss Saben. I’m Dr. Cartwright. You’re here because you knocked your head on the bathroom floor. Do you remember that?” the doctor asked.
“Yeah. So?” I asked.
“We’re going to do some tests to make sure you’re okay. You understand?”
“Yes.” I turned to my parents and Cassidy, “Did you guys go to church and Donny’s Diner?”
“Yes, we did. We went to church to pray that you could make it and wake up.” My mom said.
“You could’ve done that here.” I told her.
“That’s exactly what I said! But they brought back food. Wonderful, wonderful food, and my mother and siblings.” Cassidy came up to me with a paper bag that had “to-go” plates inside. I opened up the plates and whispered, “Food!”
All of a sudden, a woman of the height of 5’6”, and the weight of around 180 came to me and hugged me. “Sweetie, you okay. I thought you had a cracked head. I’m so glad you’re okay.” Mrs. Carmichael said as she smothered me.
“You’re cutting off my air supply!” I said hoarsely.
“I’m sorry. There’s two people who were especially worried about you.” She told me. Two people came in yelling, “Cathy!” “Catherine!” It was Cassidy’s siblings, Jasmine and Tyler.
“When Darryl and I didn’t see you at church, we got worried.” Tyler explained.
“Yeah. Church felt weird without you there. Everything was out of whack?”
“‘Out of whack?’” I asked.
“Yeah. It didn’t go well. Only one altar server up there just isn’t right.” Jasmine said.
“Okay. Thank you all for your concern and all, but can I eat my food? I’m really hungry.”
It turned into murmured “sorries,” “okays,” and “sures.” They were just staring at me, as if I were a piece of meat or something.
“Can you stop staring at me, while I’m eating? It’s freaking me out. I don’t like it.” Once again, the “sorries,” “okays,” and “sures,” were said. Ay, people.
“So Dr. Cartwright can you tell us exactly what’s going to happen again?” I asked.
“I’m just going to have you do a little test.”
“What if nothing’s wrong?” Cassidy asked.
“Then, Catherine can go home. She just has to take it easy.”
“What if something is wrong? Tyler asked.
He got reprimanded and scolded.
“What? I’m just asking. Be prepared for the worst.” He was trying to save himself. Oh, sweetie.
“No. It’s fine. Um, it really depends. If it’s just the wound, we can stitch that up, and she can go home. But if it’s something serious, it depends on a lot of things. Say for instance, cerebral damage. But judging on what I’ve seen so far, the worst thing she could have is a concussion.”
“So how long am I going to be in the hospital?”
“It depends on how well you do the test.”
“Alright.”
“Are there any more questions?”
A unanimous “no” was said.
“Alrighty then. I’ll just leave you all here. I’ll be back here for the test in about, maybe about 10 minutes.” Dr. Cartwright left the room. Something very odd struck me about Dr. Cartwright. His skin looked perfect. Almost too perfect. Not even a freckle on his face, a mustache, a beard, acne, scars, birthmarks, nothing. His skin also glowed. Now I don’t know if this is true or not, but many books, movies, and TV shows have suggested 2 reasons for this glow: Either you’re pregnant, or you’ve probably had sex recently. Judging by the fact that he’s not a woman, I choose the second one.
“My head hurts.” I said out loud.
“You probably do have a concussion.” My dad said.
“My head is pounding against my skull.” I replied back. I had to wait 7 more agonizing more minutes, until Dr. Cartwright conveniently came back to the room.
“Okay, Catherine. Look. This is what I’m going to do: I’m going to flash a light in your eyes. Next, I’m going to have you follow my finger with your eyes, while the light is still in your eyes. After that I want you to walk in a straight line. Okay?”
“Okay.” I said.
“And one more thing Catherine.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s Tuesday.” He half-smiled.
What?! I was out for 2 days. 2 days! Why didn’t you wake up 2 days ago? Ugh!
Dr. Cartwright flashed the light in my eyes. He saw nothing wrong. He then told me to follow his finger while the light was in my eyes. Again nothing was wrong. I then, got out of the bed and walked on a painted line, on the floor. While I walked on the line, my steps were really out of place. I also tripped in my hospital gown, which I didn’t know I was wearing until I tripped. Dr. Cartwright caught me before I could fall. I was breathless as he smiled at me. I looked at him for a really long time. His eyes were a breathtaking color of brown. His features were so prominent. I wanted to stay in his arms forever. My daze was disrupted when I heard coughing and clearing of throats by none other than my dad and the boy who really wants to be my boyfriend. The doctor put me back on the hospital bed. I didn’t even have to get up. He carried me bridal style! I’m dying inside!
“Do you feel dizzy right now?” he asked.
“Of course I do. Your beauty is just making things worse, but it’s okay.” I really wanted to say those words. But instead I chose, “Sorta. And again my head is pounding against my freaking skull.” I told him.
Dr. Fine looked at my parents, “I can confirm that she does have concussion. Now, her steps were out of place if you saw a second ago. Just to make sure, we’re going to do a CT scan of her brain just to make sure she’s okay. If she’s fine, then we can discharge her. If she’s not, depending on what we find, she’ll have to stay a couple more days. We can do it tomorrow. Is that fine?”
