Kiss and Cry

September ‘15

I finished drying my blades and covering them before shoving my figure skates into my bag. The change room was deserted now, because it took me so long just to get ready to leave. Minutes before the Zamboni took to the ice, I fell on my umpteenth attempt at a triple axel. I’ve been working on that jump for over a year now, and I still can’t get it. Competitors two years younger than myself can land it, and make it look easy, so why can’t I do it? Even my parents are getting frustrated watching my multiple attempts. They don’t even come to the rink anymore.

As I got up from the bench, I felt this new pulling sensation in my hamstrings I never felt before. I hobbled out of the change room towards the front doors. Beams of sunlight were streaming through the lobby, I knew if I didn't hurry I was going to be late for school.

My mom’s white Acura was parked by itself at the far end of the parking lot. I cursed myself for not foreseeing the possibility of injury and choosing a spot closer to the front doors. I hobbled through the parking lot with my skating bag slung over my shoulder, each step more painful than the last. I reflected bitterly on my skating career and wondered if it was time to pack it in for a more normal life.

My friend Tara had been encouraging me since freshman year of high school to start spending more time with her. She wanted to go out, do things, meet more boys. I always gave her excuses, hardly finding time to spend with her. Her patience with me was wearing thin, and her dedication to our friendship had been sorely tested multiple times.

As my butt clumsily hit the car seat and a sharper pain went searing down my calf, I swore things were going to be different. I never wanted to set foot in another ice arena for as long as I lived. I stared out the windshield to what appeared to be a promising day and inserted the key into the ignition. The car came to life and I was off to school.

I made it to class ambulating in the hallways like a ninety year old arthritic man with just under two minutes to spare. I carefully lowered myself onto my assigned chair. Homeroom was only ten minutes long so I knew I would have to get up from my chair immediately after making myself comfortable. There was absolutely no reprieve for me today.

The principal came over the p.a. speaker and said, “Would everyone please stand for the playing of O’Canada and our morning prayer.” Using my desk and my chair for support I slowly rose as the static played with bits of the anthem in the background.
The Catholic School Board really needed to invest in new equipment.
There was a pause and then the principal came back on to give his usual long winded morning prayer. Today the focus was on a cure for Ebola.

Adam, a guy up until now, I would have sworn never knew I existed whispered to me, “Are you okay? You’re moving around like you’re debilitated. What happened to you?” Adam, the cutest guy in the sophomore class who I only see for ten minutes a day from Monday through Friday noticed me only because I was so lame.

He stood at least six feet tall making him the shortest guy on the schools basketball team. He had shaggy dirty blond hair hanging over the most gorgeous set of puppy-dog brown eyes I’d ever seen. His facial features looked like they were drawn with a ruler, and his beefy body was littered with muscles. He was far from tall and lanky which was what all the other guys his age on our basketball team looked like.

Mrs. Uptite our teacher lowered her glasses and glared directly at Adam sending him this nasty look for talking during her attendance. He ignored her just nodding back when his name was called out. This gave me a second to admire him without the fear of him catching me drooling over him.

“Skating injury,” I whispered back. The loud bell signalling us to proceed to our first period went off. I eased myself out of my chair and swung my bag over my shoulder not realizing he had been watching me. It was too late to disguise my agony.

“You better get that looked at,” he commented.

“Thanks,” I grimaced stepping forward with my sore leg, a sharp pain went shooting down into my knee. Taken by surprise, my knee began to buckle and I was about to collapse, but Adam was there and he caught me.

Oh.My.Lucky.Stars! I was breathless as I found myself in his arms, the most gorgeous guy in the tenth grade. I so couldn’t wait to tell Tara. He helped me up and let me lean on him for support. I told myself to breath, as I immediately tried to regain my composure, “You shouldn’t be walking on it if you’re in that much pain,” he commented

I tried massaging my leg, “It wasn’t this bad before.”

“Can I help you go anywhere?”

“Uh, sure, I have my mother’s car,” I stammered.

“Will you be able to drive?”

“Sure, I think once I get in the car I’ll be fine.” That was all the encouragement he seemed to need. He took my bag and placed it over his shoulder and then hoisted me up into his arms.

Suddenly my day was getting a whole lot brighter. I wrapped my arms around Adams neck touching his soft hair in the process and then I sniffed quietly trying to pick up the subtle scent of his cologne. He looked at me startled, “Did you just smell me?”

Mortified at being caught I turned red with embarrassment. Clearly amused, our eyes locked and I felt a flash of nervousness. For a second it was like in the movies just before the guy kisses the girl, he looks at her lips and then into her eyes before looking back down at her lips again. I swore if we were anywhere but in the corridor of the school he probably would have kissed me. The mood was instantaneously lost as friends started bumping into us with curious expressions on their faces. Everyone parted ways for us as he continued carrying me. If it wasn’t for the pain searing down my leg, the ride in his arms would have been much more enjoyable.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he insisted, “in MY car.”

“You’ll miss school,” I argued.

“All the more reason,” he grinned.

He carried me to his new looking black mustang that was parked only a couple of cars away from mine. He carefully lowered me down onto the ground so he could get his keys from his pocket.

“I’ll drop you off at the emergency department,” he suggested.

“The emergency department? You think it’s that serious?”

“You can’t walk,” he pointed out.

“It’s going to take hours,” I complained.

He shrugged, “I can afford to miss a day of school.”

“I better text my mother,” I agreed. I pulled my phone out of the side pocket of my bag and texted mom:

Dalia: Mom R U there?

Mom: Yes

Dalia: I had 2 leave school & go 2 the hospital.

Mom: What happened? R U Ok?

Dalia: It’s my R. leg. Fell hard.

Mom: Triple Axel?

Dalia: Ya, Adam (classmate) is taking me there now.

Mom: Why didn’t U go sooner?

Dalia: It got worse after I got off the ice.

Mom: I’ll meet U there.

Dalia: U don’t need 2. I’ll text U when I’m done. Adam’s with me, I’ll B fine.

Mom: I want 2 hear what the doctor says.

Dalia: I’ll get them 2 call U

“Is she meeting us there?” asked Adam.

“No, I told her she doesn’t have to, I’ll call or text her when I know anything.”

He drove stick and every time he changed gears I was forced back into my seat.

“I like your car,” I complimented.

His lip curled in response. I gently tossed my phone back into my bag and tried not to look over in his direction until we arrived at the hospital.

The News

Adam put his four way flashers on and pulled into the Emergency entrance next to the ambulance bay. A very hot looking volunteer our age or slightly older met us there and helped me get into the wheelchair he was pushing.

Once I was settled in and perched my purse was on my lap, Adam reached for the wheelchair handles to push me into the hospital. The volunteer stopped him telling him to park his car, or they would ticket him for leaving it where it was. Adam relinquished the handles of the wheelchair and headed back to his car. The volunteer navigated me to the triage desk.

Adam returned to the Emergency department after parking his car. There was only one other person in line waiting to speak to the triage nurse, but the waiting room was full. We were definitely going to be here a long time.

A potbellied nurse with curly blond hair and pudgy red lips said, “Name and health card please.”

“Dalia Middleton.” I grabbed the health card from my wallet and handed it to her.

“The reason for your visit here today?”

“I hurt my leg while I was skating this morning.”

“Right or left?”

“Right.”

“On a scale of 1-10, what would you rate the pain? Ten being the most painful thing you’ve ever felt.”

“Nine,” I admitted.

She looked unimpressed as she continued by wrapping a cuff around my arm and placing an oximeter onto my finger. She took a temperature reading as well, “Your heart rate is up, do you feel pain right now?”

Yes, I do.”

“They will give you something for that once the doctor sees you. Do you have any allergies?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Have you travelled outside of Canada in the last six months?”

“No.”

“Any fever?”

“No.”

“Okay, you can go have a seat, we’ll call you when it’s your turn.”

“Thanks.”

Adam took hold of the handles to my chair and moved us out of the way. He found a vacant area for us to sit closely together, him in his bolted down seat, me in my wheelchair. Everyone else were staring at us for a lack of anything better to look at.

I pulled my phone out of my purse and found several messages from Tara.

Tara: Where R U?

Tara: U have 2 B @ school I C U’r car here. Looked 4 U.

Tara: Call me!

Dalia: Hi Tara, I’m not @ school.

Tara: 1 min

I looked over at Adam, he was texting too. He glanced back at me, “Are we allowed to use our phones in the hospital?”

“I think so, I guess we can unless someone tells us otherwise.” I looked back at my screen again.

Tara: Had 2 leave classroom so I wouldn’t get caught texting.

Dalia: I’m @ hospital. Hurt my leg on triple axel this morning.

Tara: How come U’r car is here?

Dalia: Adam took me after homeroom.

Tara: Basketball Adam?

Dalia: Yup

Tara: Yummy! How did U swing that?

Dalia: My leg almost gave out on me in homeroom. He carried me 2 his car, insisted on driving me!

Tara: How chivalrous!

Dalia: U think?

Tara: I know!

Tara: Do U want me 2 come 2 the hospital?

Dalia: It’s ok, I’m in good hands.

Tara: Jealous! Do U’r parents know?

Dalia: Texted mom.

Tara: Ok, I’ll C U after school. Just 1 > thing.

Dalia: What?

Tara: If U hook up with Adam, I want U 2 set me up with Carter.

Dalia: Adam’s not in2 me! He’s just happy not 2 B @ school!

Tara: He brought U 2 the H.

Dalia: It got him out of class! Text me later.

The vertically and horizontally challenged plump nurse called my name out surprisingly soon. I must have been right up there on her triage list. Adam slipped his phone into his front pocket and grabbed the chair following the nurse into our assigned curtained cubicle, “A nurse practitioner will be in to see you shortly.” The nurse went back to her post leaving me alone with Adam who assisted me to get from the wheelchair to the stretcher.

I started playing level 167 of Candy Crush while Adam continued texting. It was my only addiction, sometimes I would advance the time on my phone just to play extra rounds. By my fourth attempt at round 167, I was getting antsy and no further ahead so I turned it off. I studied Adam instead as he continued texting.

Soon after, the curtain moved and a lady wearing a tight white lab coat and knee high boots with a stethoscope hanging around her neck came into the cubicle, “Hi, my name is Meadow Ward and I’m a nurse practitioner, you are?”

“Dalia Middleton.”

“What brings you in today Dalia?”

“I hurt my leg this morning on a jump while skating.”

“Which leg?”

“Right.”

“Where you taking off or landing when you hurt it?”

“Landing.”

“Do you remember if you were twisted as you landed or were you straight?”

I took a second to think, “I’m not sure, it happened so quickly.”

The nurse practitioner stood at the end of the bed near my feet, “I’m going to do some range of motion exercises with you. Tell me if any of them cause you pain.” She picked up my leg and started moving it around. There was hardly anything she could do, that didn’t hurt.

She appeared dismayed writing feverishly. When she finished, she informed me of her plan, “I’m going to send you for x-rays to look for a fracture. If they come back clean I still want you to go for an M.R.I as an out-patient.”

Adam interjected, “Can’t you do it while we’re here?”

Meadow sliced him a look, “And you are?”

Adam responded sheepishly, “A friend.”

She looked at me, and I confirmed his status by nodding to her, “M.R.I’s have long waiting lists. It could take several weeks. The hospital will send you a letter with your appointment time. You won’t be able to skate until we get the results of your M.R.I.”

“Can you tell my mother what’s going on?”

“Sure,” she agreed.

I gave the Meadow my mother’s phone number and she disappeared behind the curtain.

Hearing the Nurse practitioner talk to my mother over the telephone, suddenly made the reality of the situation hit home for me. I was in jeopardy for losing the ability to make my own decisions regarding my skating career, which was a bitter pill to swallow.

It struck me that I was going to miss the final competition before Worlds which I had worked so hard to qualify for. Tears started building in the corners of my eyes, threatening to make their way down my cheeks. I was finding myself wishing mom had come because she would have understood how upsetting this would be for me. Adam put his phone away and at a loss for what to do, he watched me silently.