Post by J.Hollick on Oct 19, 2012 19:09:00 GMT -9
Panic. Fret. Race your thoughts so fast through your brain you can’t keep track or tell one from the other. Let them blur together as you fidget around the room. Glance towards the bathroom then whip your head in the opposite direction. Sit down for a moment and then jump back up. Check the clock. Has it been 3 minutes yet? No. Keep moving. Wipe down the counters with the damp sponge, clean up your boyfriend's breakfast mess. You have class in twenty minutes. Time’s up. Rush to the bathroom and pull the small white stick from the cup. One stripe. Is that good or bad? Grab the box and read the instructions, scan your eyes over the small black writing so quickly you have to stop and force yourself to go over it again. It’s positive. Swear. Curse. Cry. Ponder what to do. You have three more years of university left. You’re not ready. Make the call as you put your shoes on. Book an appointment. Get through the day.
It’s time. The clinic, 3 o’clock. Head outside and catch the bus. You’re boyfriend is at work. You told him, you both agree. He can’t make the appointment, you don’t want to wait. You go without him.
Read the articles in the waiting room; pay no attention to what they actually talk about. Hear the secretary call your name and head into a room. Sit down on the grey leather chair and wait. Read another magazine. Hear the door open as the councilor walks in and sits down. Give her your name after she says hers, even though you don’t hear her. Tell her you are sure you want to do this. Tell her you’ve thought long and hard and this is your choice. She takes you to another room.
Undress and put on the starchy robe they give you. Feel the cool air on your back and the strings dangling down onto your skin. Wait.
Follow the nurse into another room. Sit down on a chair and lift your legs into the stirrups. Feel exposed, scared, overwhelmed but don’t cry. Laugh politely at the nurse as she uses humour to attempt to lighten the mood. She leaves. Hear another councilor talk, ask you questions. Tell him you are sure, positive, no doubt in your mind. Hear him leave. Wait.
Attempt to think of anything but what is going on around you. Feel the mask come over your head. Count backwards from ten like the nurse said. 10, 9, 8, but don’t say 7. Instead, feel drunk, want to puke then wake up. Hear the doctor snapping off the rubber gloves and informing you to come back in a week. Hear the nurse tell you to stay as long as you need. Lie there for thirty minutes, head reeling. Then, slowly, rise. Get dressed, take deep breaths. Drink water from the sink. Leave.
Become blinded by the sunlight as you exit the clinic. Walk to the train station. Catch one home. Climb the stairs to your apartment, take off your jacket, let loose a long shaky sigh. It’s over. Then, run to the bathroom and puke.
It’s time. The clinic, 3 o’clock. Head outside and catch the bus. You’re boyfriend is at work. You told him, you both agree. He can’t make the appointment, you don’t want to wait. You go without him.
Read the articles in the waiting room; pay no attention to what they actually talk about. Hear the secretary call your name and head into a room. Sit down on the grey leather chair and wait. Read another magazine. Hear the door open as the councilor walks in and sits down. Give her your name after she says hers, even though you don’t hear her. Tell her you are sure you want to do this. Tell her you’ve thought long and hard and this is your choice. She takes you to another room.
Undress and put on the starchy robe they give you. Feel the cool air on your back and the strings dangling down onto your skin. Wait.
Follow the nurse into another room. Sit down on a chair and lift your legs into the stirrups. Feel exposed, scared, overwhelmed but don’t cry. Laugh politely at the nurse as she uses humour to attempt to lighten the mood. She leaves. Hear another councilor talk, ask you questions. Tell him you are sure, positive, no doubt in your mind. Hear him leave. Wait.
Attempt to think of anything but what is going on around you. Feel the mask come over your head. Count backwards from ten like the nurse said. 10, 9, 8, but don’t say 7. Instead, feel drunk, want to puke then wake up. Hear the doctor snapping off the rubber gloves and informing you to come back in a week. Hear the nurse tell you to stay as long as you need. Lie there for thirty minutes, head reeling. Then, slowly, rise. Get dressed, take deep breaths. Drink water from the sink. Leave.
Become blinded by the sunlight as you exit the clinic. Walk to the train station. Catch one home. Climb the stairs to your apartment, take off your jacket, let loose a long shaky sigh. It’s over. Then, run to the bathroom and puke.
