I have a mind of my own. It's not like other minds. Of course, everyone can say that. They can say they're the craziest, the wildest...but they're normal. Maybe a bit different, but everything syncs in their brain as it should. It doesn't do this for me. I don't know what neurone came loose, or snapped, or whatever. I don't know how all this came to be. All I know is that I can be crazy and I can be wild and I can class myself as abnormal. And you'd never know by looking at me. 895Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcynsEZzHJe
I suppose that rules out any disabilities that are running through your head. With those, you can usually tell by something like, per say, a nervous twitch, a lazy eye or a bare head wrapped in a silk scarf. They're all visual. Looked upon by the world as abysmal. But when you can't see what's wrong, you can't judge and you can't assume and you can't pity. That's probably the only saving grace about what's wrong with me. You can only pity and assume and judge when I'm standing around a hospital aisle, just as I am now.
The crisp sounds of doctors flipping through their books; old books, theory books echoes through my ears. It's a faint sound, but for me it's a marching band dancing down the pristine aisles. Even so, I strain my ears for a murmur, an 'Aha!', but it never comes. Only occasionally will a nurse come, opening either her wrinkled or lipgloss-coated mouth to 'keep an eye on me' (which really means to scold me). But then she'll see the saffron wristband I pointedly fiddle with and scuttles off. S for 'saffron'; S for 'Specialist Case'.
There's no specialist for this though.
I gulp as I feel my chest tighten up, frantic for oxygen. My head pounds. My eye sight goes blurry; a familiar feeling that is fixed with closing my eyes. As I do so multiple colours dance around my vision. It's somehow soothing. 895Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyK9qSTqT5G
Deep. Breaths. "Deep breaths!" Deep. Breaths. The voice of Dr. Abbert is the only other focus now. It's not loud, it's not quiet, it's just right. It's normal. Slowly my vision returns. 895Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcUYp2zgcox
The moment my eyes latch onto Abbert, he signals a nurse and hollers, "Prep for a blood test, quickly." I inwardly groan. So many times have I had these spikes jabbing into my muscles by rookies, leaving a bruise and an ache on my arm for weeks on end. You would've hoped I'd got used to it by now, but no. "You're having a blood test," he says to me briskly. Wow, thanks for telling me, I think to myself. My breathing speeds up and a wheeze puffs out. 895Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0ukBS7jcBS
Abbert stands up and spins to a bimbo nurse. “Can we get her an inhaler?”
“We don't want any drugs to interfere with the blood test.” She smacks her gum.
“What? That's stupid and anyway, I'm the head doctor on this ward so...”
“Executive doctor's orders.”
“For crying out loud...” He runs his fingers through his mop of hair, flops down on the chair beside my bed and faces towards me. “Do you want a snack? Some blankets?”
I give him a pointed look. “There's no point, I'm going to have a blood test soon, aren't I?”
Right on cue, a blood test preparation trolley wheels into my room with a screech. Two rounded figures in starch dresses swagger towards us. I nervously eye up the long needles piled up. Clearly they're ready for a few attempts. Never mind if I am. I can already feel the aftermath of pain.895Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBTZgIJW33q
Abbert talks in a low voice to me as I watch the nurses set up the needle out the corner of my eye. “We think we might found an exact diagnosis and if your blood test proves us right, we even think we might have a solution.” I stay silent. “It could be a revolution, you know, a hallmark for this hospital...”895Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhPqmKi8jyD
I tune out, close my eyes and watch the waltzing lights inside my head. His rubber-gloved hand lightly shakes my shoulder.895Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEFHy768mzD
“You can't afford to miss this test, please just stay with it for a few minutes.”
My mouth curls. “I can't afford to miss it? It's just going to be the same as always! I'm just going to get my hopes up and then you still won't have found a solution!”
“Calm down, calm down.” This instruction riles me up even more for some reason.
“There's no point,” I hiss. “You might as well plug me into a heart monitor with a drip then leave me to whatever fate I have.”
Awkwardly he props up his steamed glasses. “All we are saying is give peace a chance.”
I raise an eyebrow. “John Lennon? Really?”
“I'm surprised you know it,” he grins, showing narrow teeth.
“My mum is a big fan,” I reply sheepishly.
“Ah, speaking of your mother, she should be here soon.”
I nod. One of the nurses props up my pillow and I lean back. “Can you roll up your sleeve? Unbutton anything that you need to,” Gum-Smacking Nurse announces. Blushing furiously, I thrust my bare arm out, grateful that I'm wearing a t-shirt. Then, I let my head collapse onto the pillow as I turn around and focus on the roses painted onto the walls. The joys of the ever cynic paediatric ward.
“Not a fan of needles?” Abbert comments.
“Who is?”
A silver glint reflects off his glasses. “Touché.”
“Give me something to squeeze,” I mutter.
“Hm...” He looks around vaguely. “How firm is your grip?”
“I don't know, I've never tested it out,” I laugh wryly.
Suddenly the sharp metal sears through my skin and I wince in agony. Abbert takes my hand dubiously and I latch onto it, gripping it with all my might. “Fu...bliming heck,” he groans. I manage a small smile.
“All done dear,” the other nurse says as she sticks a cotton blob onto the needle area.
I tilt my head back and sigh a shaky breath. I need food. Food. I need something now. Something to keep my focus. My focus. Focus. I babble, “Food. Food. Food.” Something biscuity is slotted into my mouth. The cheesy taste and crumbly texture melt onto my tongue. I assume it's Abbert who gave it me. “Thanks. And sorry.”
“You're welcome and what for?” My assumption was right.
“Sorry for having a go at you.”
“I'm sure I'd be the same in your shoes.” There is a knock at the door. A warmth leaves my hand and I realise he hadn't let go before then. “Come in!”
The pungent smell of fruity perfume brushes under my nose. I can tell it's Mum. “Oh my poor Kitty!” Instantly I cringe. Abbert and the older nurse laugh. The Gum-Smacking-Nurse smacks her gum.
I let out a giggle, “Mum, I'm fine.”
“But sweetie, I heard you collapsed!”
“She did,” Abbert confirms. I roll my eyes at him.
This wasn't enough. “Is her head bruised? Has she got a concussion? Why wasn't a nurse with her?”
“A nurse was supposed to check on her every ten minutes or so. And no ma'am, she isn't harmed. Cat is here because she just had to have a blood test done, but for an entirely unrelated matter.”
Mum pulls up a chair and plonks herself next to Abbert. “A solution?”
He beams, “In theory.”
Her eyes widen. “Honey, isn't that great?”
“Uhm, yeah.”
Edging in closer, Mum chatters to me excitably about how her prayers were being answered, how she knew all along. I bow my head down. She rambles this speech every time a hint of something new arises. 895Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTe6NNQNL94
Abbert bends his head down to his clipboard and rapidly starts scrawling. He's lucky to be able to avoid participating any more in the conversation.
“So what's next?” Mum practically squeals.
Abbert tears the paper off the clipboard and hands it to her. “Early on whilst deciding to take another blood sample, we decided an MRI scan should also take place.”
“What for?”
“A more in depth look into her.”
She sighs, “I see. An overnight visit then?”
“Tomorrow, yes. A good night's rest is needed and I don't think she will get that at our ever busy hospital.” He put on a jaunty voice for the last part of that.
Mum laughs louder than necessary at this. “She's free to go then?”
Abbert nods. I bounce off the bed, before scrunching my face together at moving my arm too hastily. “I'll see you both tomorrow!” he calls after us as we head to the door.
“Bye bye!” Mum calls, before shutting the door and bustling me through the ward. When we reach the main halls, she scowls at me. “God, I need some coffee. Can you fetch some coffee?” Before I can answer, she shoves a fiver into my palm and briskly walks down the aisle. I huff and hunt a hot drink machine. When I find one, it spits out the note. My temper blares. I breathe out of my nose in steady puffs, with my fists and mouth clenched.
“Calm down,” a masculine voice shouts. Oh what perfect timing, Abbert. “Shame that the machines are only funded by spare cash at the end of the year. This one hasn't been switched for God knows how long.” He eyes the situation. “You need change?”
“Yeah, please.” Abbert gently takes the note out of my hand, fumbles with his wallet and hands me a two pound coin and three one pound coins, along with some coppers. “Thank you.” I look up at him curiously.
He doesn't notice how befuddled I am. “That's quite alright. Get some rest now Cat!” With that, he goes through the heavy door next to the machine. I press the appropriate buttons (coffee, mocha, two beeps of sugar, one beep of milk) and slot in the two pound coin. I am tempted to get myself a hot chocolate, but Mum would want the change. I decide to use the coppers on a packet of Polos instead. 895Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9LvKWektBp
Once I collect them as well as the now-done coffee, I exit the hospital through the revolving doors and jog down the ramp towards the car park. The tops of my slippers crease as I stand on my tip-toes in search for the familiar silver car. A horn honks behind me and I dart to the left. Mum is behind the wheel of the car just inches away from my body. I purse my lips, but hand her the coffee after she winds down the window, then I hop into the car.
“Right.” Mum sips her coffee. “What the hell do you think that was, then?”
“What?” I whisper.
“You know exactly what I'm talking about, Catriona. Don't try and play dumb with me.”
“Mum, I couldn't help it, I...”
"You could've help it!" She slams the brakes at the traffic lights. “If you were feeling ill, you could've gone to a damn receptionist.”
“But I had to have a blood test taken, Mum, you heard Abbert.”
The traffic lights turn from amber to green. “He wouldn't have had you taken to a private room to have it done if you hadn't fainted.” I bite my lip. “You don't have an answer for that now, do you?” She doesn't wait for a response. “Stupid child.”
Brash insults and beeps ring out from behind. “Mum, move the car.”
“I don't take orders from a brainless girl who cost me a day of work.”
“Move it.”
“No.”
“Now Mum!”
She doesn't budge an inch. “I want an answer from you.”
“I'll give you an answer if you move the car!”
The angry cacophony is almost deafening now. Thankfully, she steps on it and carries on driving. “Give me an answer!”
My breaths beat up and down unsteadily. “I'm a stupid girl who doesn't deserve your attention! There, are you happy Mum?” I tilt my head back, not letting the tears roll down my face.
She glosses over my testimony. “I don't think you understand just how hard I work,” Mum says neutrally. I let her continue. “My twelve hour days have been shaved down to six. Six, Catriona. That's half of my day at work, half of my day cradling you.”
“I'm sorry,” I choke.
“So you should be. You're, what, sixteen or seventeen years old now, aren't you? You can fend for yourself. Get a drivers license, hire a nurse, that's it sorted. You don't need me and I certainly don't need you dragging down my life and career.” Mum sighs dreamily. “When was the last time I had a man in my life?” Her lips fix into a frown. “Not since your father went away. I've been too busy since. I'm at my prime time in life and I need to take advantage of that.“895Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡb0kHJ26aiv
I nod blearily. My breathing settles down as I see our house in the distance. We stay in silence, only listening to the squeak of the seats and the hum of the engine. When we pull up on the sprawling piece of land, I hustle out the car. Mum is hot on my tail. She overtakes me, then reaches the door and wiggles the key around in the lock aimlessly. “That all starts tomorrow, Cat.”
“I have to go for my scan tomorrow.”
The slight sound of her teeth grinding sends a shiver coursing through me. “In that case, the day after, smart ass.” Eventually the door is unlocked, and I make a beeline for the shoe rack. Of course this is the one day I decide to wear my slippers, easily the most difficult shoes to get off that I own. They stick to my feet like permanent glue. Mum effortlessly slips off her heels and patters into the lounge. I catch up to her a few moments later.895Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡq9eUPdtJE1
A sodden tea towel is flung onto my head. The familiar blonde highlighted head pops out from underneath the counter. A frosty bottle of Jacob's Creek is clutched in Mum's left hand, with an accompanying glass in her right hand. “You're making dinner,” she simply states, and then saunters off to the staircase.
“I'm making dinner,” I mimic. It's no good though; I can't make fun of the situation.
Usually we have a selection of ready meals stacked up in the fridge, in descending order of best of dates, so naturally that's my first place to go to. However, when I open it it's empty, bar a carton of milk. How does she expect me to make dinner out of thin air...? I raid the cooler drawers and dig up some cheese. Then I scan the cupboards. Just baking ingredients. Though milk, cheese and flour could make...on the next shelf down, I spy a packet of penne pasta. Cheesy pasta it is.
It's lucky that cheesy pasta is the only meal I can make from the top of my head, apart from salad. Well, everyone can make salad. I grab a saucepan and turn the oven nob and the stove nob on. Then, I set to work. After a few minutes, I pant a little, leaning against the countertop. The heat. It's overpowering. I can barely breathe. I take a deep breath, but it just tightens up my chest and leaves a heavy sensation there too. Stop. Please stop. I turn off the stove, hurry out the kitchen and collapse on the sofa, clutching my chest. Please stop. Stop. My breathing becomes steady again and I finish off the pasta, stirring the cheese into the roux and then stirring the now boiled pasta into that.
Mum is a picky eater at the best of times, especially when she's filling up on a certain red drink. It'd be a shame for an extra bowl to go to waste, so I pour the pasta into a hefty bowl and stab two forks onto the pile of pasta. I then scoop up the bowl, waddle upstairs and bash Mum's bedroom door with my elbow. “Come in darling!” I take a deep breath and use my elbow once more to jab the handle and walk in. 895Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDJ9ejpgvH4
“Cat, Cat, my Kitty Cat. What have you brought in from the garden?” she giggles.
“Cheesy pasta,” I reply dourly.
“Are there any birds in it? I can't hear a tweet tweet.”
“No Mum, it's just milk, flour, cheese and pasta. No birds, squirrels, mice or balls of yarn.”
She pouts, “you're such a spoilsport Kitty Cat.”
“I know.” I try to balance the bowl on the bed, before deciding the safest place for it would probably be the bedside table. I drag the rocking chair next to that and place a few tubes of pasta into my mouth. Not bad at all.
“Kitty Cat, feed me some,” Mum purrs. I sigh, then nearly ram the food down her throat. She doesn't notice the aggression. “You're such a good Kitty Cat. There's some treats in the blue cupboard downstairs once you've finished.” I hope that these treats are edible for humans.
After a few more mouthfuls, the room shifts to a blur and I shut my eyes tightly, trying to steady my thoughts by watching the dancing colours play out in front of me. “Don't fall asleep, Kitty Cat. We are going to watch some telly television!”
I tumble off the chair and crouch down by the DVD rack. “What do you want to watch?”
“Something...something with a doctor in it...”
“Scrubs or House?”
“Ooo, House,” she grins. I slot the disc in, flick past the adverts and click on the last episode on the drop down list. I don't have the patience to put up with her for more than an hour, not in this state. It's hard enough to put up with her when she's sober. I return to the chair and pick at the pasta whilst the episode starts. “You know what, Kitty Cat?”
“What?”
“That Dr. Abbert sure looks like a younger version of Dr. House.” Mum smiles to herself. “Of course, Abbert isn't half as moody. He's gentle and sweet.”
“Mum!” I exclaim.
She clasps the wine glass tightly. ”It's true! I bet you he'd make a great father to you and a tender lover for me...it all figures out...”
I shy away. I could not see Abbert being a father to me. I didn't even want to imagine him as a lover for my mother. “...yeah, that's great Mum.” I focus on the television, gasping and gaping as the episode continues.
After it finishes, I gather up the bowl and reach for the glass. “Nuhuh!” Mum cries. She hands me the now nearly empty wine bottle. “Top-up,” she slurs. It's no use arguing with her in this state. The crimson liquid flows out of the bottle, a small drop splashing onto my t-shirt. “Thank you Kitty Cat.” I practically sprint for the door. “Night night sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite,” Mum murmurs, before being overcome by hysterics.
I don't have the energy to go downstairs and sort the dishes out, so I walk to my en suite 895Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUWpy4ttYfu
across the hall and leave everything to soak in the bath tub. I switch my t-shirt and jeans for a loose tank top and pyjama bottoms and look into the mirror whilst I brush my teeth. The minty freshness is overwhelming but somehow relaxing, and it winds down my thoughts. I focus on the strokes to try and block Mum's howling. It's one of those noises where you can't tell if it's a laugh or a cry. If she wasn't blind drunk I'd check up on her. It's not my responsibility though. Hey, hopefully if she keeps her word about the nurse, I'll have a bit of responsibility taken off me.895Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIK14FZohjn
Next, I rinse out of my mouth and shake a couple of prescription pills onto my palm. Really, I do not know if they're making any difference to me. Once I've shuddered at the feeling of the pills bobbing down my throat, I dim the lights and crawl into bed. Trying to sleep is always a chore.
First, I flop onto my side, but I start wheezing as my head recounts all that happened today. So I reluctantly sit up, prop up my pillow and fall back. For a few moments I just stare at the ceiling, forgetting everything. My breathing won't let me forget it though. I can't ever forget it and all the problems it causes for me. I need to sleep though, I'm drowsy as Hell. Not wanting to be kept awake by concentrating on my wavering breathing, I plug my earplugs into my iPod and let the melodies carry me to sleep.
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