The Good Hair Family Sitcom

S3 E15.1: Love like a Disease

Hazel's POV

I guess this hospital hasn't heard of colour before, because the walls are white, the chairs are white, the roses on the window sill are white. A curtain separates my mom's half of the room from that of the other lady, and the curtain is—you guessed it—white. Mommy lies in the bed, her paint-splattered dress replaced by pale blue scrubs (at least that's not white), and Momma has her leg crossed over the other, a professional position, like this is a job interview and all the tests are related to employment rather than Mommy's health.

"You sure you don't want to sit?" Momma asks me.

"I can't sit," I reply, continuing to pace back and forth at the end of the bed. I'm starting to get dizzy, but the thought of stopping only makes my stomach curdle quicker. "Moving is the only thing keeping my anxiety from spiralling."

"Hey, I'll be okay," Mommy says—in a hospital bed.

"Your entire leg is completely paralyzed, and the other is halfway there!" I explode. "You're already not okay!"

Momma comes over and touches my arm, trying to calm me down by saying, "The doctors are figuring it out."

Her blue eyes bore into mine, injecting a blue sea into me, the type of sea where everything is so still at the surface that you could almost for a second forget the chaos surely going on below. I wonder, if I had her eyes, would I have that ability too? Or did she simply have to practice until she reached perfection? I take a few heavy breaths, controlled, but I lose track of my pace when the door opens, and Uncle TJ and Uncle Cyrus come on in.

"Hey, sorry we took so long," Uncle TJ says. "We were getting Wyatt's homework for him to do while here, but there was construction on the road by our house, and then on the highway, and on the road outside here. I swear they just constructed that road. I don't know why they're reconstructing it."

Uncle TJ goes over to hug Momma, and then he turns to Mommy, saying, "I would hug you, but I don't know it that would break you or not."

Uncle Cyrus then makes a beeline for Mommy in the bed. He throws his arms over her and squeezes her in a tight embrace that makes her smile and reciprocate the hug.

"Friendship is medicine," he says.

Mommy laughs, saying, "Hi, Cyrus."

"So," Uncle TJ starts, "what's going on?"

Uncle Cyrus releases my mom and sits down in one of the chairs next to her bed. Uncle TJ goes over to join him in the neighbouring seat.

"Well, her leg is numb," Momma begins explaining, "as well as some muscles in her pelvis, so she can't hold her pee."

"They didn't need to know that part," Mommy says.

"What's causing it?" Uncle TJ asks.

"That's what they're trying to figure out," Momma responds.

"They're checking basically everything," Mommy adds.

"Does anything hurt?" Uncle Cyrus wonders.

"No," Mommy answers. "Everything's numb, so no pain fortunately."

I shouldn't have stopped pacing, because I'm feeling my hands and jaw become sore from the tightness brought by being still, and my heart rate makes my sweat glands work double time.

"No pain only means your body's not functioning properly," I say, my voice higher than normal.

"Hazel," Momma says, stepping up to me again, "why don't you go for a walk around the hospital?"