I’m No Ordinary Girl, Chapter Three, Part Two
Read: I’m No Ordinary Girl, Chapter One, Part One
Read: I’m No Ordinary Girl, Chapter One, Part Two
Read: I’m No Ordinary Girl, Chapter Two, Part One
Read: I’m No Ordinary Girl, Chapter Two, Part Two
Read: I’m No Ordinary Girl, Chapter Three, Part One
Chapter 3: Still in the Hospital
The clock on the wall says it’s six-thirty in the morning; it looks like I took a two-hour nap without seeing any dark matter. I lay awake in my hospital bed, watching the hospital come to life again with nurses circulating and lights turning on. Nurse Kim walks into my room with a bright smile on her face.
“Good morning, Samantha. Did you get some sleep?”
“A little. I took about a two-hour nap.”
“I’m glad you got some sleep.”
Nurse Kim hands me a menu. “Here’s the list of foods you can order for breakfast.”
“What would you like to eat, sweetie?” Mom asks.
I’m looking at the menu, and I know I’m in the mood for bacon. “I’ll have scrambled eggs, turkey bacon, toast, and orange juice, please.” Mom circles what I want to eat on the menu and hands it back to Nurse Kim.
“Breakfast will be brought up to you in about thirty minutes. I’ll be back with your medicine, and to check your blood sugar.”
“How are you doing, sweetie?”
“I’m okay, mom. I wish I could sleep without having scary dreams.” I can’t understand what’s happening with me. Why am I having nightmares? Why am I seeing dark matter, a girl who looks like a ghost? Is the universe trying to tell me something? I don’t know how to explain all of this to my parents. I don’t want to think about the dreams any longer; all I want to do is eat breakfast.
“I know, sweetie. Maybe they will go away after we get you feeling better, and your diabetes gets under control.” Mom said and then smiled quickly.
“Knock knock. I’m back.”
Here we go with another needle prick again. I hold out my left hand so Nurse Kim can prick my finger. She squeezes my finger, wipes the first drop of blood, and squeezes the second drop of blood onto the test strip. She sets the glucose monitor on the metal table on the side of my hospital bed. I watch the monitor do the countdown 3-2-1, and then it beeps.
“Your blood sugar is 144.”
“A little elevated, but not too high,” Mom says.
“Her blood sugar might be elevated because we only gave her insulin last night and not her oral medication, but will leave a note in her chart.”
“Okay, I want to make sure we figure out the best treatment plan. We have been in and out of the hospital every other weekend.”
“I understand your concerns, Mrs. Taylor.”
“I will go slower for your insulin shot this time.”
Nurse Kim pinches my upper arm, and I feel the prick of the needle inserting into my skin.
“How was that?”
“Much better, I just felt the prick of the needle, no burning.”
She wipes my arm with an alcohol wipe and drops the syringe into the disposable container hanging on the wall under the television.
“Kevin is coming with your breakfast, enjoy!”
Thank god, my stomach is rumbling. I raise the bed so I could eat. As soon as he places the tray down, I throw the covers off. I dive into the scrambled eggs first.
Mom is laughing at me because I’m scarfing down the food as if I haven’t eaten in days.
“Are you a little hungry, honey?”
“Yeah, I’m hungrier than I thought.”
Mom hands me the remote for the television and kisses my forehead.
“Dad and I are going to step outside to get some fresh air and to get some breakfast at the coffee shop downstairs in the lobby.”
“Okay, mom. I’ll be here watching TV.” For my family and I, hospitals give us anxiety, and no matter how friendly the nurses and doctors are, you never feel comfortable. I am praying I can go home tonight. I want to sleep in my bedroom with my fuzzy, pink blanket and put on my polka dot pajamas. These hospital gowns are not cozy or warm, and they barely cover my booty. I don’t want the whole hospital seeing my underwear every time I go to the bathroom.
I turn the television on and find Let’s Make A Deal to watch; the tv will keep me occupied until my parents or Dr. Reed come back. Without warning, I’m dozing off as I listen to Wayne Brady pick two more contestants to choose a curtain. I don’t want to go to sleep. Every time I do, I feel like I am in a realm with darkness. One time, great-grandma told me that dreams could be a message. I wonder if something dangerous is going to happen to my family or me. I can’t focus on this right now; I must concentrate on feeling better and becoming intuitive with my body so I can tell my parents when I have low blood sugar.
I feel so nervous and scared; my body is starting to twitch. My entire body is uncontrollably shaking, like there is an earthquake happening inside me. The heart monitor is flashing and beeping non-stop. The cuff around my arm is tightening. Nurse Kim is tripping over herself as she is running through the door.
Samantha’s parents see many people rushing inside a room and start jogging because they have a feeling it’s their daughter’s room.
“Lord, please don’t let anything happen to my sweet baby girl,” Mr. Taylor mumbles under his breath.
I feel like I am in my first dream when I saw a young girl who looked scared to death and was shaking from limb to limb. I’m starting to believe the young girl I dreamt about is me, like the universe is trying to tell me I’m very sick. Could I have cancer? Cancer is a scary disease, and I know I am a strong person, but I don’t know if I could fight or survive another illness. A nurse with black hair sneaks her way through the crowd of nurses and Dr. Reed. They have a mask over their mouth and nose. The black-haired nurse inserts a yellow substance into my IV. In the corner of my eyes, I see my mom waving her arms, trying to gain the black-haired nurse’s attention. The nurse with black hair doesn’t say a word; she leaves the room in a flash.
“Your daughter has stopped shaking. We had to give her a tranquilizer to slow down the nervous system. She’s going to be asleep for a little bit,” says Dr. Reed.
“Do you know why she was shaking?” Mr. Taylor asks and then shakes his head.
“I will perform an MRI scan on Samantha’s legs. I want to check the status of her bone disease. Please let the nurse know when Samantha wakes up.”
“Okay, we’ll let the nurse know,” says Mrs. Taylor with her arms crossed.
“What if her bone disease is progressing?” Mr. Taylor says out loud.
Samantha’s parents sit by their daughter’s bedside and watch her sleep.
I see the white light as I open my eyes. I try to sit up, but something is holding me down. I’m strapped to a metal table.
“Help!” As I scream, the light that I see changes color. The dark matter is back, and I see someone dressed in all black walk through it. The only thing I can see is their red eyes. Blood-red eyes are staring into mine.
This time, things don’t feel like I’m dreaming.