Thursday, October 23, 2008

Fiction: Skin Deep Part 3

Skin Deep: 3
By Lux

When I wake up I feel pretty good. The pain of surgery has still to touch me. I must have a higher threshold than I thought. I get up and go to my dresser to check out the goods. I didn’t really get a chance to see them before. They’re swollen as to be expected, but what I didn’t expect was the small black spot on one side. I reach for my phone and call the doctor’s office but get a recording. I didn’t even realize how late it was. Oh well I guess I’ll call tomorrow. There’s no pain so it’s probably nothing. Looking around the house I find that my boyfriend,
the dear rat, is still M.I.A. I call him but he’s still not picking up. He’d better not be out with some slut right now. Even if he isn’t, he’s still going to hear it when he gets home. This is unbelievable! I deserve better than this and what’s more I can get better than this even on my worst day. It’s so unlike him too. I wonder if something happened? Now I’m starting to worry. I check the messages and there’s nothing. I call his office, no answer. I even look for a note and nothing. Well if something really did happen I would know about it by now or I‘ll be hearing about it soon. I go over to the kitchen to make something to eat. I’m still not very hungry but I figure I should eat. Keep my strength up and all that. I take my food to the living room and turn on the news. It’s the sports report. Sports don’t really interest me so my mind begins to wander. I look up a few minutes later and notice that the anchor who usually reports the local news has been replaced by a woman. She looks familiar but I can’t place her.

I have no appetite. I can’t even eat. But I am really tired again. I start to doze as the new anchor reads a story of someone who died during a routine surgery. I think I hear her say the doctor who performed the surgery has disappeared. That’s what happens when you don’t do your research I guess. You get taken for a ride and it appears you can wind up dead too. More natural selection in action. But I’m too tired to care right now so I fall asleep.

The sound of my phone wakes me up. I’m in my room again. Funny, I thought I fell asleep on the couch. Maybe he came home and put me to bed. I walk over to the dresser and pick it up. It’s the doctor’s office. They tell me I missed my follow up appointment this morning and would I like to come in this afternoon. They have an opening, but it‘s in an hour. I tell her that my appointment was supposed to be next week. She informs me that it was today. I argue that it’s impossible because I only got home yesterday. According to her records I was discharged last Thursday. Something isn’t right. Someone in their office screwed up. But I take the appointment anyway since I am still worried about the black spot I saw. Before I hang up, the nurse assures me that it’s probably bruising. It doesn’t look like any bruise I’ve ever seen. I check it out now and find that it grew bigger overnight. A lot bigger. Now there are spots on the other breast too and there is some kind of odor coming off them. What. The. Fuck. They still don’t hurt. I’ve actually not had to take any of the pain medicine. But this better not be a huge problem or someone’s looking at a law suit. A big fat one. I get dressed quickly and run out the door. I don’t even have time to see if my boyfriend came home after all.

On my way to the doctor’s office I’m getting even more worked up. I’ve been in a haze for days. I can’t seem to stay awake for more than a few hours. I can’t seem to focus on anything for more than a few minutes. I have no appetite. My boyfriend is nowhere to be found. Now there’s some black shit growing on me. Oh and the DJ on the radio just informs me that it’s Thursday. How can that be? Yesterday was Thursday. What the hell is going on! I’m starting to get kind of freaked out. A lot of things are not making sense. Come to think of it I haven’t really seen anyone the past few days. Except for the nurse before I left the hospital, I’m wracking my brain trying to think if I’ve talked to anyone lately. But I can’t remember. Oh wait the cab driver. Of course! But try as I might I can’t remember what he looked like, or sounded like or any other detail about him. I’m not even totally sure it was a him. I don’t even remember paying for the ride. I must have been pretty damn out of it.

So after rushing to get here and driving through the worst traffic ever they make me wait. The bastards. I’m getting more and more irritated. What the hell? There isn’t even anyone else in the waiting room. But since I have class I won’t complain, yet. I look for a magazine to flip through. They don’t even have decent magazines here. My choices are Taxidermy Monthly and some medical journal. I choose the latter. While I’m browsing through it I see an ad for Formethanol. It’s the same medication I was prescribed before I left, but something about the ad is bugging me. Or maybe it isn’t the ad itself, maybe it’s the magazine I’m reading. Just as I’m about to turn it over to look at the cover again, the nurse calls me in to see the doctor.

To be concluded…

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