I’d grown increasingly testy and impatient to get us the hell out of that maze of floor tile, fluorescent lighting, and misery.
“I’m thinking there’s going to be more damage from repeated blood - pressure cuffs than the accident,” I’d said to one nurse who didn’t even have the decency to politely chuckle.
As we sat for hours in a couple exam rooms (they moved us from one to the other for some unexplained reason, as there was no apparent difference in equipment or atmosphere), we were mostly alone. If one were to do a pie chart of activity for the five - plus hours of our stay, there would be a huge chunk of “us alone waiting.” Time in front of an actual doctor would be so slim a slice it would hardly be visible. Nurses doing busywork, administrators getting their forms filled in…two good - sized slices on the chart. I’d even give a good chunk to that odd time span between when the last doctor said: “We’re set to let you go home” and the moment in which we actually got to go home.
And don’t get me started on the nurse with the squeaky left shoe and the attitude. Or the apparent fact that I’m convinced Suze and I seemed to be the only patients in the building with an education that exceeded junior high.
It was behind us now. Or would be after a good shower. I pulled into the garage. After turning off the engine, I realized I’d pulled in on the far left, needlessly leaving room for her car, now in some junkyard awaiting complete demolition. We both sat back and exhaled.
“One good night’s sleep and you’ll be back to normal. Ready to shop for a new car.”
She smiled weakly, gave my hand a final squeeze, and opened her door to get out.
“Hang on,” I said. “Let me come around and give you a hand.”
“I’m fine.”
“How ’bout we pretend you’re not.”
I hopped out and circled around, putting my arm around her and doing my best to offset some of her weight. She grunted quietly while moving. As I reached for the door to our house, I had a flash of the beer can and felt my arm start to tingle. I sent up a prayer that all would be normal. Not sure either of us could take another event. I had a sharp, sudden certainty that turning the doorknob would open up another needless surprise.
As we’d sat for hours in the hospital, I’d struggled with the possibility of telling Suze all about the red SUV incidents. She certainly deserved to know, and pending what Viniteri had to tell me, she certainly would soon. Part of me wanted to spare her the grief, at least before we had some sort of resolution planned. But mostly, I didn’t want to face the inevitable: she’d lump more than my share of blame in my lap. “You must have done something,” would be the accusation, implied or directly verbalized. I simply wasn’t prepared to stare down that path. Not today.
“Come on,” she said behind me. I realized I’d been hesitating, lost in thought with my hand hovering by the doorknob.
“Sorry,” I said.
I opened the door to a dark house, and quickly hit the light for the mud room. I heard nothing but the stillness of a silent house and felt a sense of emptiness with relief.
“Can you get me a glass of water? I’m going to take advantage of those pain meds,” said Suze, moving toward the bedroom and already beginning to unbutton her shirt.
I walked into the kitchen (no beer can), got her water, and joined her in our bedroom. She was nearly finished undressing when I got there. “I assume you’re going to work tomorrow,” she said.
“Do you need me to stay home with you?” I asked.
“Don’t worry. I’ll let you off the hook.”
“Don’t be like that…”
“Like what?”
I placed the glass of water on her nightstand. “We’ll see how you are in the morning. No need to make any decisions about tomorrow tonight.”
She shrugged. “Whatever.” She began to climb into bed, the bottle of pills in her hand.
“I’m going to take a shower,” I
“I’m thinking there’s going to be more damage from repeated blood - pressure cuffs than the accident,” I’d said to one nurse who didn’t even have the decency to politely chuckle.
As we sat for hours in a couple exam rooms (they moved us from one to the other for some unexplained reason, as there was no apparent difference in equipment or atmosphere), we were mostly alone. If one were to do a pie chart of activity for the five - plus hours of our stay, there would be a huge chunk of “us alone waiting.” Time in front of an actual doctor would be so slim a slice it would hardly be visible. Nurses doing busywork, administrators getting their forms filled in…two good - sized slices on the chart. I’d even give a good chunk to that odd time span between when the last doctor said: “We’re set to let you go home” and the moment in which we actually got to go home.
And don’t get me started on the nurse with the squeaky left shoe and the attitude. Or the apparent fact that I’m convinced Suze and I seemed to be the only patients in the building with an education that exceeded junior high.
It was behind us now. Or would be after a good shower. I pulled into the garage. After turning off the engine, I realized I’d pulled in on the far left, needlessly leaving room for her car, now in some junkyard awaiting complete demolition. We both sat back and exhaled.
“One good night’s sleep and you’ll be back to normal. Ready to shop for a new car.”
She smiled weakly, gave my hand a final squeeze, and opened her door to get out.
“Hang on,” I said. “Let me come around and give you a hand.”
“I’m fine.”
“How ’bout we pretend you’re not.”
I hopped out and circled around, putting my arm around her and doing my best to offset some of her weight. She grunted quietly while moving. As I reached for the door to our house, I had a flash of the beer can and felt my arm start to tingle. I sent up a prayer that all would be normal. Not sure either of us could take another event. I had a sharp, sudden certainty that turning the doorknob would open up another needless surprise.
As we’d sat for hours in the hospital, I’d struggled with the possibility of telling Suze all about the red SUV incidents. She certainly deserved to know, and pending what Viniteri had to tell me, she certainly would soon. Part of me wanted to spare her the grief, at least before we had some sort of resolution planned. But mostly, I didn’t want to face the inevitable: she’d lump more than my share of blame in my lap. “You must have done something,” would be the accusation, implied or directly verbalized. I simply wasn’t prepared to stare down that path. Not today.
“Come on,” she said behind me. I realized I’d been hesitating, lost in thought with my hand hovering by the doorknob.
“Sorry,” I said.
I opened the door to a dark house, and quickly hit the light for the mud room. I heard nothing but the stillness of a silent house and felt a sense of emptiness with relief.
“Can you get me a glass of water? I’m going to take advantage of those pain meds,” said Suze, moving toward the bedroom and already beginning to unbutton her shirt.
I walked into the kitchen (no beer can), got her water, and joined her in our bedroom. She was nearly finished undressing when I got there. “I assume you’re going to work tomorrow,” she said.
“Do you need me to stay home with you?” I asked.
“Don’t worry. I’ll let you off the hook.”
“Don’t be like that…”
“Like what?”
I placed the glass of water on her nightstand. “We’ll see how you are in the morning. No need to make any decisions about tomorrow tonight.”
She shrugged. “Whatever.” She began to climb into bed, the bottle of pills in her hand.
“I’m going to take a shower,” I
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