Bring Me Back (5 page)

As I run, I think of what I know about her.  I know she has lived in this house for 2 years (the realtor told me that)—she doesn’t seem to leave her house for much, other than to run at night and clean up
my
mess on
my
porch.  I know she has long chestnut hair and dark eyes and by what I recently observed, she has nightmares that would outrival any that I have ever come close to having.  So basically, not a whole hell of a lot! 

I make it back to my house and leave my shoes by the front door, as I seem to have picked up a little bit of dirt from the areas on the trail with the most moisture.  I throw together a sandwich, chips and a pickle and sit down with remote in hand.  Flipping through the channels, I decide on the movie,
Coming to America. 
I haven’t seen this movie in ages, and it is upbeat enough to ward off any of my depressing thoughts. 

Chapter 13

~Ally

I spent what feels like an eternity sitting on the steps, just basking in the calm of night.  All of my favorite sounds—what I know.  I finally come inside when my stomach starts to cramp a little bit.  I think I must be a little hungry, so I decide to throw something together after I hop in the shower.  The water feels quite nice, but with an angry stomach, I don’t linger.  I pull on my softest pajamas, grab some snacks and head into my little studio.  I sent the finished table with Ronnie today when he dropped off my groceries.  It was beautiful, and I am so excited about how it turned out.  I’m anxious to hear what Mr. Roberts thinks of it too.  I am working on a new piece from Ian’s broken pot.  I’m not exactly sure where I’m going with it, but I know it will come together eventually. 

I work in the studio for a little bit, but the queasiness in my stomach won’t go away, so I move myself to the living room and turn on a show.  I check the clock, 4:00 a.m.
Still about 3 ½ hours until sunrise. 

Somewhere between the 2
^nd
and 3
^rd
episode of Seinfeld re-runs, I become violently ill.  I barely make it to the bathroom before I begin vomiting, and by the time I crawl from there, the sun is up.  I am sweating and have chills, and I finally realize….
I’m sick
.  I grab a bucket and a glass of Sprite and make my way back to the couch.  Curling up with a quilt, I allow myself to doze. 

***

I wake up with a full bladder screaming at me for relief.  I try to stand up and almost fall over from the pain in my stomach.  Bent over I slowly make my way to the bathroom to relieve myself.  I glance in the mirror while washing my hands and am completely shocked by my appearance.  My eyes have dark circles around them that are almost purple, my face is flushed and my hair is wet from the sweat.  I carefully make my way back to the couch, careful to not stand up erect.  By the time I arrive back to my spot, I am again violently vomiting into the bucket.  

When I wake up the next time, the sun has set and I panic.  I am still in so much pain and I know I must be running a fever.  I stand up again and cry out in pain.  Leaning my head against the kitchen counter, I make a decision.  I need help. 

Wrapped in my quilt and with my shoes hurriedly slipped on my feet, I open my door and walk out.  Every step is excruciating. I am still unable to walk standing straight, so I keep myself bent at the waist and looking down as I awkwardly walk toward Ian’s house.  Half way there I vomit again.  My mouth feels like I’ve eaten a flannel shirt. 

The walk that should have taken just a minute has become what feels like a marathon, and by the time I reach the stairs, I am practically crawling. The wood of the porch feels so cold on my hands.  My face feels like it is on fire.  I am so hot and so cold at the same time.  Pushing myself, I finally reach the door and knock.  Not sure of what to do next.

Chapter 14

~Ian

While contemplating a bowl of ice cream or just going to bed, I hear a soft knock on my front door.  Confused, I get up to answer it.  I’m not sure what I expected, but it sure wasn’t the scene that unfolded before me as I opened the door.

“Holy shit!” Ally was standing before me wrapped in a quilt looking so sickly that it jolted me back to thoughts of Laney for a moment.  She looked up with those dark eyes and whispered, “I need help.” 

Realizing that I was just staring at her, and she had asked for help, I jumped into action.   “Ally, put your right arm around my waist.”  She didn’t hesitate or argue, and when I felt her hand slide across my back to the side of my waist, I knew why.  “Christ Ally!  You are burning up!”  She was nodding as she walked, telling me that she was well aware of that.  I helped her to a chair at the table and poured her a glass of water.  She had her head lying on her arms and her breathing was shallow.  I went to the bathroom and searched under the sink until I found what I was looking for.  Returning to her with a thermometer, I gently asked her to open her mouth.  She complied without a word, and I watched her as we waited to read the temperature.  When I pulled the thermometer out and held it up, my eyes widened.  “Almost 104°.  Ally, have you taken anything for a fever today?”  She shook her head.  “Do you hurt?”  She nodded this time.  “Please Ally, tell me what’s wrong.”  I sound like I am pleading.  Taking a shallow breath, she says, “My stomach hurts so badly.  I have been throwing up all day, and I didn’t know what to do.  I haven’t been sick since I’ve moved here.”  Running my hands through my hair, I groan.  “Ally, you need to go to the emergency room.”

You would have thought that I told her to jump off a cliff.  She bolted out of her chair and immediately fell to the floor, grasping her stomach in pain. “No! No, no, no.”  She gasped.  I knelt to the floor. “Ally is there someone I can call for you?”  Shaking her head, she quietly said, “There is no one.  I have no one.”    I looked into her eyes. “No one?” she looked right into my eyes and shook her head.  “Shit.”  I kept running my fingers through my hair, as my own stomach became queasy, with the knowledge of what I needed to do.  I was going back—back to the place that I hated more than anything.  The Hospital.

I put my shoes on and grabbed my wallet and my keys.  I went outside to pull my car around and parked it in front of the stairs.  Walking back through the door, I spoke very softly to her.  “Ally, I know you don’t want to go, but I think you are really sick, and you need a doctor.  You asked me for help, so please let me.”  I didn’t wait for her response; I just reached down and lifted her gently in my arms.  She was so light that I had absolutely no problem walking with her.  I carried her down the stairs, mindful of how much pain even the slightest of movement caused.  As I set her into the passenger side of my car and leaned over to fasten her seatbelt, I paused to look at her.  Our eyes locked, and I could see the fear in her eyes. We were so close that I could feel the heat radiating off of her skin.   I couldn’t help but think that by going to the hospital, we were about to do something that scared us both beyond reason.  I closed the door and walked around to the driver’s seat.  I pulled forward and stopped in front of Ally’s house.  Turning to her, I softly touched her hand.  “Ally?  Where is your wallet?  You’ll need ID.”  “Oh! Um, I think it is on the counter by the coffee maker.”  I nodded and ran into her house to retrieve it.  Running back out, wallet in hand, I slid into the driver’s seat again.  With a deep breath, I drove down the drive and out onto the road.

Chapter 15

~Ally

I felt every bump in the road as Ian drove me to the hospital.  I was shaking, but this time I knew it wasn’t only from the fever.  I had not been away from my house in over 1 ½ years.  If I had not already been sick to my stomach, I was sure I would have been now.  Holding my stomach, I tried to focus on the pain.  The pain was real, and I needed to distinguish between real and irrational fear.  “Are you cold?”  I heard Ian ask.  I just shook my head.  I could tell he didn’t want to take me.  He had cursed several times after he decided that I needed to go.  I knew it must be an inconvenience, but I couldn’t worry about that right now.  I was barely holding it together.  I pressed my head against the window and began to sing softly.

Goodnight, my angel
Now it's time to dream
And dream how wonderful your life will be
Someday your child may cry
And if you sing this lullabye
Then in your heart
There will always be a part of me
Someday we'll all be gone
But lullabyes go on and on...
They never die
That's how you
And I
Will be

I was brought back when I heard Ian on the phone talking to the hospital, asking for someone to meet us with a wheelchair.  When I opened my eyes again, we were in front of the emergency room doors and someone in green scrubs was waiting with a wheelchair. I looked at Ian and shook my head.  “I can’t Ian, I can’t do it!”  I couldn’t stop shaking my head. “Ally, you have to, you’re sick.” If I didn’t feel like I had been run over by a truck, I may have been amused by the irony in that statement.  “They will take care of you.” He said.  My eyes shot open wide as I looked at him. “You’re not coming with me?”  I choked.  He shook his head and grabbed my hand.  “Ally, I can’t go in there.” We sat there staring at each other, and right then and there, I realized that this man sitting in front of me was broken too.  I closed my eyes and took a slow, deep breath. When I opened my eyes, I looked right at him.  “I can’t do this without you.
Please. 
I
know
you understand how hard this is.  I see it in your eyes, but Ian, I
can’t
do this alone.”  We sat there nodding at each other, almost trying to gather strength from each other.  When the person in scrubs opened my door, I felt Ian squeeze my hand and say. “Okay, let’s go.”

***

I was wheeled into the hospital as Ian went to park the car.  I was still shaking profusely, and the nurse puts a warm blanket over me, assuming I am cold.  Looking back, I see Ian stand outside of the doors with his eyes closed. I can see that his hands are shaking, and he starts to walk forward several times before he actually makes it through the door.  When he walks up to me, I can see the unshed tears threatening to overflow.  He nods at me, and it becomes like an unspoken language between us that helps us let each other know we are okay, holding it together, just barely, but okay none the less. 

Ian hands the registrar my ID and insurance card.  “Mrs. Mitchell, would you like your husband as your emergency contact?”  Confused, I look at her.  “My husband?”  I ask, and see that she is looking back and forth between Ian and me, just as confused.  “Oh, um…He isn’t my husband, um he’s, um…”  I am stammering, and thankfully Ian takes over. “Her friend.”  He says as her touches my hand.  Embarrassed, she continues. “Oh, I’m sorry. Would you like your
friend
to be your emergency contact?”  I glance at Ian, and he gives me the slightest nod.  “Yes, please,” I say.

After I am registered, I am taken to a room in the emergency department.  I am hooked up to monitors and an IV is started in my right hand.  The cold fluid makes my arm ache.  The nurse stands in front of the monitors, looking at them and adjusting wires.  She steps out and comes back in with a middle-aged Hispanic man.  “Hi Ally, I am Dr. Lopez.” He says with a comforting smile.  “Your heart rate and blood pressure are slightly elevated, probably a result of the pain.”  He writes a few things down and starts talking again.  “I am going to examine you now.”  He uncovers me and I start to shake my head, pushing his hands away.  He exchanges looks with the nurse as I notice Ian stand up and move to my side.  He leans down and starts to whisper in my ear.  “Ally, you can do this.”  I don’t look back at the doctor, but I see when Ian nods at him and then I feel his hands pressing on my stomach.  It hurts and with every touch I almost cry out.  He covers me back up and writes some more things in my chart as he gives the nurse orders.  “Ally, I want to have a few tests done to rule out appendicitis.  We are going to get a CT scan and some blood work.  We should know more then.”  He nods at Ian and moves out the door.