Pathologies of the Nervous System

                “You can take your lunch now, Dr. Andrews has offered to take over for you”

Although I clearly heard what the nurse, Rhonda, had said, I just stared at her blankly.

“Take your lunch before he changes his mind dear” She reiterated. Rhonda was such a nice woman, she reminded me of my mom.

I made my way down to the cafeteria and set up camp. I put headphones in and connected them to my phone, but I didn’t start any music. Music distracted me from my reading, but the headphones acted as a nice conversation repellent. A lot of the other residents liked to sit down and bitch about their lives, and to be frank I had absolutely no interest in hearing their problems.  I sipped my tea and cracked open my book. Whenever I got a spare second lately, I would read up on head trauma and neurological conditions. The knowledge gives me peace. I read and highlighted for about ten minutes before I saw the chair on the other side of the table being pulled out and filled. The man sat down, and although I couldn’t place him, he looked familiar. He had short, dark hair and bright blue eyes. He seemed average height, with a very skinny build. He was wearing scrubs. Maybe he was another resident? He set his coffee on the table, grabbed a napkin and started polishing his apple with it.

“Can I help you?” I asked. This guy was already annoying the shit out of me.

“Ah no, I just couldn’t find anywhere else to sit.” He said. There was a very detectable hint of arrogance in his voice. I looked around the cafeteria, which was mostly empty.

“There is whole bunch of open tables over there” I said, pointing off in the distance. “Maybe you could move to one of them.” I really didn’t want the company right now.

“Oh no, those are definitely occupied” he said, grinning. I already could tell that I couldn’t stand this guy. I looked back down at the textbook in front of me and resumed my reading.

“Ah, Pathologies of the Nervous System, are you in neurology?” he asked

“No, I’m internal medicine” I mumbled. I was done with this conversation before it started

“Ah, you have a tough diagnosis to crack or something then?”

“Not really”

“Then what? Are you just reading for fun?”

“Sure, let’s go with that.”

“I’m Jack”

“Good for you”

Just then, my pager started beeping. Jill needed me at the nursing station. I packed up my things without saying a word and started walking away.

“Okay good talk!” Jack yelled as I walked away. I pretended I didn’t hear him and turned the corner.

I reached the nursing station and Jill was there, laughing.

“Nurse Williams saw that Jack kid down in the cafeteria bothering you, and she said you looked like you needed a rescue mission. You’re welcome” as she said this, she looked down at the book under my arm and then back up at me.

The gossipy laughter faded from her face and was quickly replaced by concern.

“Aw Honey, why are you reading that book again? You are torturing yourself.” As she said this she came around the counter and put her arm around me.

“I was just looking something up for a patient.” I said, my eyes finding the ring on my left hand. I felt a sting and looked away from it, my eyes then finding the floor. The floor tiles were this ugly grey and green checkered pattern. The pattern was blurring, and for the first time in two months, I realized I was tearing up. I didn’t even know why.  Jill must have seen the tears, because she grabbed my hand and pulled me into the storage room with her.

“Quinn, are you okay? I have never seen you cry.”

For the first time in months I didn’t feel empty. I felt like someone was ripping me apart at the seams. For the first time in months, I knew I was alive, but I wished I was dead. I desperately searched for the words to convince Jill that I was okay, but they weren’t there.  After what seemed like eternity, Jill finally broke the silence.

  “You are going to be okay. You are not his doctor, you are his fiancé. It’s not your job to diagnose him and treat him. It’s your job to hold his hand through it.”

I was sitting on a step stool with my head in my hands. I knew she is right, but it still felt horrible, being so helpless. We were in there in silence for a few minutes, Jill rubbing my back and my own sobs being muffled by my hands. I finally composed myself and stood up.

“Why don’t you go home? We are a little overstaffed today anyways. I’ll tell the attendings that you have a bug or something.” Jill said, still looking concerned. I nodded my head compliantly and left the room. I grabbed my coat and backpack from my locker and went to the elevator. My hand hovered over the “Ground” button for a split second, but then hit “5” instead. The elevator rose, stopped and the doors opened. I stepped out, took a left and looked at the door. “Extended Care Unit” was etched in the glass. I pushed through the door and walked down the hall. There, through the fifth door on the left he was.

I sat down in the chair slowly. Someone had combed his hair. I ran my fingers through it, returning it to his natural state. I wished more than anything that he was only sleeping, and that just a quick shake of his arm and he would be with me.

I had been in this room almost every day, for exactly two months. Usually when I went to see him, the room was silent under the beeps of machines. I never felt the need to say anything. In that moment, for the first time in two months, I spoke to my fiancé.  

“How am I supposed to do this without you?”