Red

Chapter 2

When I wake up, Aaron is asleep in one of the chairs in my room. I glance at the clock. 7:43 a.m. In six hours, I'm getting my toe amputated. Huh. It's my first time having a surgery that I can remember, I had a two here while I was unconscious. I'm not allowed to eat for twelve hours before the surgery, and I'm not allowed to drink for eight. This should be in interesting day.

At 7:48 Aaron wakes up. He hadn't slept well, but I'm not surprised. He did sleep on hospital chairs, after all. After trying and subsequently failing to tame his hair, at 8:02 he goes down to the cafeteria for breakfast.

At 8:34 Ema and Abba come into my room. Ema takes what little hair that was still in the braid out of the braid. She then brushes out then re-plaits all of my hair. Ema and Abba hold my hands, say some prayers and talk about what's going on outside the hospital. All my friends want to come visit me, but because it's finals week they can't. At 8:57 they leave to find Aaron and food.

I don't even notice that I'm still hooked up to an IV until, at 10:12, Nurse Julia comes in and checks my vitals. "I know that you'll do well today." She says as she leaves the room. I have to think about that sentence for a second. 'I know you'll do well today.' Oh yeah, my surgery. Nine toes later today. I'm not sure as to what I should think about the surgery. It's good that the toe is coming off, because as the surgeons said, it's 'dead.' But at the same time, I'll have nine toes. Nine toes. Will it be harder to walk? What'll it be like? I guess that I'll find out later.

At 11:11 I make a wish. I wish that I'll be okay.

I think for an hour. I think about Katrina, how I have no information as to how she's doing. I think about my friends, they're in school, taking finals, while I'm here, about to have a toe amputated. I can't decide which is worse. I wonder if they're thinking of me. I wonder when they'll visit.

At 12:02 my best friend comes into my room. Aaron walks in awkwardly, with his hands stuffed in his pockets, his head bowed, and his dark, curly hair a mess. He sits in a chair and looks at his feet. Sometimes we don't even need to talk in order to get our thoughts across. I can tell that he's scared for me and that he doesn't want me to see him cry again. Today I can't get up and hug him, so instead I just have to watch him. He brings his hands to his head and pulls the hair on the sides of his head towards the back of his head. He does that when he's stressed. I don't even have to see it, but I know that Aaron has his eyes closed and is focusing on his breathing, trying to calm down. I think that everyone in my family wants to calm down, but that's just not going to happen. This situation just prevents that. Aaron says nothing more.

At 12:41 three nurses come into my room. One checks my vitals, the other two prepare to move me to the pre-op room. Aaron looks up and asks if there is anything that he can do to help. The nurses have him push my IV with us while I'm being moved to the pre-op room. He holds the railing of my gurney and looks me in the eye the whole time. I see the pain and sadness in his eyes as they look into mine, and I smile at him.

At 12:49 we arrive in the pre-op room. There are two other patients in the room with me, all of us waiting for surgery. I get situated in a corner of the little room and Aaron texts Ema and Abba to meet us here. Aaron sends the text, puts his phone in his pocket, and sits in one of the chairs by my gurney. He puts his hand on my arm and whispers the Jewish prayer for healing, the Mi Sheberakh.

"Mi Sheberakh

Avoteinu: Avraham, Yitzhak, v'Yaakov,

v'Imoteinu: Sarah, Rivka, Rachel v'Leah,

Hu yivarekh virapei

Et haholah Aviva bat David

HaKadosh Barukh Hu

yimalei rahamim alav/aleha,

l'hahlimah,

u-l'rap'otah,

l'hazikah,

u-l'hay-otah.

lah bim-hera

r'fuah shlemah,

r'fu-at hanefesh u-r'fu-at hagoof,

b'tokh sh'ar holei Yisrael v'holei yoshvei tevel,

hashta ba'agalah u-vizman kariv,

v'no-mar, Amen!"

He looks up at me and smiles. Ema and Abba enter the room and we talk for a little while, they say the Mi Sheberakh, and throughout it Aaron stands awkwardly to the side. He pulls out his phone and starts playing a game on it.

At 1:40 a few surgeons enter the room. They walk to my bedside and start talking about the surgery. I tune out until my parents say goodbye and good luck to me. Aaron walks to my bedside and whispers, "Behatslacha." Good luck. He walks out of the room.

The surgeons wheel me out of the room and into a hallway. A few turns later, we're in the Operating Room, also called the OR. There are a lot of computers and machines in the room. The tiles on the walls are white and shiny, and I can't see the floor. I see the anesthesiologist start setting up my oxygen mask as I'm put in the center of the room.

The doctors start to unwrap my right foot and I look away. An oxygen mask is put over my mouth and nose. The gasses are cool on my face and taste sweet, slightly like cotton candy and lollipops. I look at the off-white ceiling and my vision is soon scattered with tiny rainbow specks that move around. A buzz starts in my head and it feels . . . good. I focus on one of the surgeon's eye makeup, all of it is perfection. If there's going to be one last thing that I remember, I want it to be that. Something is put in my IV and my vision blurs; the surgeon tells to count back from ten.

Ten.

Nine.

Eight. . .