medicine {h.s.}

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

july.

When I wake up the next morning, I feel sick.

It had been a restless night for me; filled with ample amounts of tossing and turning. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to fall asleep. It was one of those nights where no position felt comfortable enough and every time I was on the verge of sleep, something would manage to wake me up. Usually, my nerves were the culprit, though sometimes it was Harry downstairs. Long ago I learned that when he can't sleep he compulsively cleans. All last night I heard him shuffling around downstairs, cleaning everything he could find. Previous instances of such compulsive actions taught me that he eventually reaches a point in which he is too tired to continue. From the way that things were sounding, I doubt he reached that point. I doubt if he even slept at all.

I know it's my nerves. I've always been a nervous test-taker. Something about the environment around testing has always created this acute stress in me. It manifests itself in different ways. Usually sleepless nights and sickly mornings; both of which have been covered today. Naïvely I had thought that once I went to college, I would be better at testing. All those years later and I am still fighting the same anxieties.

It's a queasiness in my stomach this morning and I know it's only a matter of time before I am hunched over the toilet vomiting up the measly dinner I had scraped together last night. My nerves had gotten the best of me last night, and I had only a couple of pieces of toast to keep me happy.

Sighing, I look to the clock beside me. I'd set my alarm for a bit earlier than usual. I wanted the option to take my time in the morning. On a day like today, I figured there would be more harm than good in rushing out the door in the way that I normally do. Retrospectively I suppose that was the smart thing to do. After all, I now have the scheduled time for the inconvenient illness.

Without much ceremony I push myself out of bed. The action of swinging myself around and hopping out of bed doesn't jostle my stomach as much as I had anticipated, but it doesn't make the feeling any more pleasant. Thoughtfully I had laid out a comfortable outfit for myself the night before. Last night had been nostalgic of the night before the first day of school. All that anticipation; the excitement about starting something new and having a new experience. The one and only time you were ever eager to set the alarm. Setting out an outfit the night before. Obviously these are two vastly different things, but thinking about this test through such a lens makes the entire experience of this morning seem entirely more manageable and infinitely less daunting.

A warm breeze floats in through my open window as I tug the shirt that I'd slept in over my head. Self-consciously I look down at myself. All around I am looking a bit plumper than I would like. Part of it is because of the heavy diet that Will has me on. He exercises like a fiend—at this point in his career he has the time to—so he doesn't seem to be gaining weight in the same way that I am. The other part of it is the stress. Let alone the fact that I'm eating these wonderful—usually pasta—meals homemade for me by Will, I'm also eating a lot more junk than I should be. I'm not usually one to just sit around munching on chips, but it's become a stress thing for me. The more stressed I am about the exam and my future as a doctor, the more I eat. I suppose I'm just lucky that Will has been understanding of it all. He, too, underwent this trying time. He hasn't said anything about the way that I'm gaining weight. Though, I suppose he wouldn't complain. My breasts are getting bigger as well.

With a frown I put on a new sweatshirt. SEATTLE MEDICAL CENTER is written in big, capital letters across the navy t-shirt in white block lettering. We'd been given the shirt a year ago as a sort of welcoming gift. Now I think it must have been some sort of apology gift; "SORRY WE ARE ABOUT TO RUIN THE NEXT YEAR OF YOUR LIFE" doesn't really fit on a t-shirt the same way that the name of the hospital does.