CHANGE

Chapter 5

I opened my eyes, and I could barely breathe. I decided to call my doctor. I didn't have the best primary care physician. I found her after I had gotten my surgery. She was close to where we lived, so I thought it had been perfect. I was wrong. Whenever I visited her, I felt disconnected from her. But today, I knew I needed to go see her.

I called work. I told them I was going to the doctor. The next task was telling my mother where we needed to go. It wasn't far from home. But my mother hated doctors. She hadn't been to one in years. It probably would have been a good idea for her to see one. But she was grown. No one could make her.

"I made an appointment to see the doctor," I told my mother.

She gave me that scared look she always did when I said something about a doctor.

"Why?" Was all she asked.

"I know something is off," I responded. "I can't go to work today."

My mother didn't say anything else. She walked upstairs. I assumed she was going to get ready to go. I followed her upstairs to do the same. I didn't feel like getting dressed, but I did so anyway. I wasn't going to bother with breakfast. I was too sick.

The appointment was at 10 am. My mother and I were dressed and ready to go twenty minutes in. I dragged myself out the door feeling very hot. At least my side wasn't hurting. There had been another night where I'd been in horrible pain I asked to go to the hospital again.

Flashback

I had just gotten home from work. My side hurt like hell. I didn't say anything to anyone. I was hoping a hot bath would do the trick. I sat down in the bathtub. I closed my eyes and let the hot water run over me.

When I was sure the hot water wasn't going to work, I got out of the tub and made my way into my bedroom. I put on my nightclothes and got ready to lie down. My mother was downstairs, along with my father. He was still alive at this point. My brother was at work. It was 11 pm. The pain was becoming too much.

Walking downstairs, I told my mother that I needed to go to the hospital. She looked at me, scared as always, and asked what was wrong. I told her my side was burning. It hurt too much. She believed me by how I looked. She got up from the couch and said she'd grab her purse and change quickly. I wanted her to hurry up. There was only so much more I could take.

I had just finished my cycle. I thought it was proof that was what was wrong with me. I made a note to tell the doctor that. My mother was ready finally. My father stayed in the house as always. My mother drove me to the local hospital. At one point, I threw up in the car. Thankfully, I had a bag with me at the time. When we arrived at the hospital, I carried it in with me. I wasn't sure if they'd need it or not.

The lady at the front desk asked us what was wrong, as usual. She took all our information, then we sat down and waited. When a nurse finally came out to see us, she asked if my mother wanted to come back, too. I said that was fine. I didn't want to be alone in such pain.

Taking us back to a room, I told her what was in the bag. She ended up telling me to just throw it away. She pulled the curtain around so I could change into a gown. My mother and I just sat in the room. Neither of us said anything while we waited.

When a doctor did come in, my mother tried to take the whole thing over. Telling him what I told her about my cycle. I didn't know if I was annoyed or grateful. I was in too much pain to talk. I said I felt sick again. The nurse gave me a bag to throw up in. I just wanted some answers. I was tired of always feeling sick.