Authors: Annie Jocoby
So, I laid down on the floor next to Scotty. She had on her top, but no bottoms. I put an old towel on the floor, and she was sitting on that. The towel was becoming soaked with blood and clots. She was starting to hyperventilate, so I rubbed her back a
nd then stood up and got out the inhaler that I gave her the last time she had problems breathing because she was so distraught.
She sucked on the inhaler while I pumped it. “There, there,” I said. “Shhhhh. Charlie’s going to be here any moment with some pads, and then I’m going to take you straight to the closest hospital.”
She nodded her head, and clung on to me. “What’s happening to me?”
I didn’t know. I just sat there with her, feeling helpless, and wishing that I had a clue on what to tell her. Her hemorrhaging had come on so suddenly,
so it was just something that was clearly out of my realm of knowledge. But my mind was spinning, hoping and praying that it wasn’t some kind of tumor or something like that.
I honestly didn’t know how I would deal with something like that. If Scotty were really sick. Of course, I would be there for her and would be her source of strength, but if something happened to her like what had happened to Michelle…
I took a deep breath. I remembered how everybody in the family was affected by what had happened to her. How I had never seen my father cry until the day of the funeral. How my mother seemed to never stop crying for months on end. How I was pushed aside in their grief. There was such a devastation and an emptiness after Michelle’s passing. And I remembered, as I sat on the floor with Scotty, that Michelle’s diagnosis came after she started bleeding much like this. The cancer was swiftly moving, and, by the time they found it, there was nothing that they could do.
Calm down, O’Hara. Calm down. Scotty’s not sick like Michelle. She’s not. She’s just not.
Would fate be that cruel? Give me somebody like Scotty, and then snatch her away?
By that time, her sobbing had turned to low whimpering. She was still shaking, and still clinging on to me, but there were no more tears. Just the low whimpering, which sounded somewhat like a cat that was in pain.
I felt impotent, so I just sat there on the floor, stroking her hair and her back and whispering comforting words to her. “It’s okay, Scotty. It’s going to be okay. Shhhh, Charlie’s going to be here at any minute, and then I can get you dressed and I’ll take you in. I’m sure that there’s nothing wrong with you that can’t be fixed. The doctors will fix you.”
I silently prayed that I wasn’t lying to her. That the doctors really would fix her.
Where was Charlie? What was taking him so long?
I looked at the clock, and then realized that it had only been around 20 minutes since I had called him. He said that he would be here in about a half hour, so I needed to stop being so impatient.
But I felt like I did when Scotty was missing. Every second dragged on, and every minute seemed like hours. I could do nothing but hold her, and, every so once in
a while, I got her back in the shower and rinsed off her legs.
Finally, Charlie was knocking on my door.
“Just a minute, Scotty. I’ll be right back.”
She said nothing, but just nodded her head. She continued to make the little mewling sounds, and the tears were starting again. But she tried to look brave, and I loved her for that. Poor
girl had been through so much, and now this. How much more would she be able to take?
I got back with the pads in my hands. I also had a fresh pair of underwear. I put one of the pads in the underwear and put it on her. And then I helped her put on a skirt, because she didn’t want to ruin a pair of pants, and I helped her off the floor. I then got her wheelchair out – usually she used crutches, but, in this case, it would be imperative that I be able to get her to the hospital in a short period of time, so I knew that a wheelchair would be necessary. I picked her up and carried her down the stairs, and then ran back up and carried the wheelchair down. I put her in her wheelchair, and then put a blanket over her, and wheeled her to the elevator.
While I stood and waited for the elevator, Scotty was clutching her blanket and crying softly. My heart went out to her, and I silently prayed, more than I have ever prayed since Scotty went missing, that she would be okay. That this was something that was fixable. I tried not to let my mind go to the alternative – after all, I didn’t think that Scotty had a doctor. She wasn’t getting regular check-ups. Something could have been festering for some time, and she was just now showing symptoms.
But I wasn’t going to get ahead of myself. Scotty was going to be okay. She was going to be fine. I took a deep breath and repeated that mantra to myself as the elevator arrived and took us down to the lobby floor.
Charlie was still waiting for us, because I asked him to go ahead and take us to the hospital. He opened the door and I helped Scotty in. Then I rode in the backseat with her, all the way to the hospital.
Chapter 39
Scotty
I’m in the back of the limousine with Nick, racing towards the hospital, and all that I can think about is my fear that there is something seriously wrong with me. I had no idea what would cause me to suddenly hemorrhage like I was doing, unless it was something that was serious. Life-threatening. Like a bleeding tumor or something like that.
Nick was being so good, but I could tell that he was upset as well. He tried hard to hide the fear in his eyes, but I was getting to know him pretty well, so I could tell his moods by now. For my part, I was panicking a little, so I was crying and whimpering, but I tried to calm down. For Nick, if nothing else.
Finally, we got to the hospital. Nick gently carried me out of the car and put me in my wheelchair. He pushed me into the ER, and checked me in.
The nurse handed him a chart to fill out.
“We’ll fill this chart out later. Right now, the doctor has to see her. She’s bleeding and she’s scared, and I’m sorry, but neither of us wants to take the time to fill out this chart.”
The nurse looked at Nick with a dirty look. She no doubt heard this a hundred times a day. But it was really silly, though. Filling out charts when you’re in pain or bleeding or whatever. I had no idea why they couldn’t just give me a room to check me out and then let me fill out that damned chart.
“It’s procedure,” she said.
“You mean that if a person comes in here with a bullet, you’re going to make that person fill out a chart before you see him?”
The nurse all but rolled her eyes. “Of course not, but this woman here doesn’t look like she has something like a bullet. So, please fill out the chart.” Her eyes said
and the faster you fill that goddamned thing out, the faster you’re going to see the doctor.
Nick just shook his head and wheeled me into the waiting room so that we could fill out the chart.
He went through and asked me all the questions, and I just shook my head “no” for every one. I was pretty lucky, I guess. I hadn’t had hardly any major illnesses, and the accident where my leg was broken was really the first major accident that I had ever had. As far as I knew, no major medical issues ran in my family. Unless you count alcoholism as being a major illness, that is.
Then he handed me all the paperwork to sign, and I did, with a shaking hand. My handwriting was terrible under the best of circumstances. I would imagine that my signature was probably illegible.
He handed the paperwork to the nurse, and she took it and said “okay, thank you. The doctor will see you as soon as possible.”
“As soon as possible better be within the next few minutes. My girlfriend is bleeding here.”
I could feel the blood pool and congeal, and fill up the pad that was in my panties. I felt embarrassed and humiliated just sitting there bleeding, and I didn’t quite know what to do about it. Thankfully, Nick thought to pack a bag with extra pads and underpants, so, if nothing else, I could clean myself up a little bit in the bathroom, if the doctor didn’t take too long.
Nick still stood there, next to the obstinate nurse. I hoped that the nurse wasn’t someone who would make me wait longer just out of spite. She did look annoyed enough to do just that.
I think that he was trying to intimidate her into making sure that I got in to see the doctor quicker, but I hoped that it wouldn’t backfire.
Thankfully, it didn’t appear to backfire, because the nurs
e called my name about a minute later.
“Scotty James,” she said. And Nick came back to wheel me up
to the nurse’s station, where another nurse met me and showed me back to an examination room. Once I got into the exam room, I was given a gown and told to strip naked and put the gown on me, tied in the back. Nick helped me out of my clothes, and helped me into my gown, and then pulled up a chair next to me and held my hand.
I was sitting on a metal table, and there was still blood dripping out of me, although it seemed to not be nearly as bad as before. I took some deep breaths and looked at Nick for comfort.
Nick tried to lighten the mood some. “Boy, Scotty, you sure are a drama queen,” he said with a smile and wink. “If you wanted to get out of the house, you should have just said so.”
I tried to smile, but I felt that it was a weak one. I appreciated him trying to joke with me, but my mind was filled with fear of the unknown.
The doctor arrived after a few minutes. Her name was Dr. Montgall, and she was around 30, not much older than that, and was startlingly attractive, with auburn hair and freckles. She was looking at my chart when she came in.
“Okay, Ms. James, it looks like your medical history is pretty clear. What seems to be the issue here?”
“I, uh, I’m bleeding. And I have no idea why. I’m also passing large clots. Please tell me what’s happening to me.”
She handed me a cup. “Could you please give me a urine sample?” she asked. “The first thing that I need to check is if you are pregnant.”
Pregnant?
I suddenly felt the walls closing in on me. Nick and I always used condoms. My heart started beating out of my chest. To think that there was something inside of me that was put there by that monster…
I looked at Nick, and he looked absolutely shocked. Mortified. Angry. So very angry. I thought that he looked like he wanted to go out and find Mr. Lucas, right then and there, and rip him to shreds.
The tears starting coming again. “I, I, I can’t be pregnant,” I said.
Dr. Montgall looked at me. “Are you saying that you haven’t had sexual relations?”
I just shook my head. “No, it’s not possible, I…just can’t be pregnant.”
Dr. Montgall looked at me, and then looked at Nick. I looked at Nick as well, and I saw his eyes trying to convey something to the doctor. She seemed to understand.
“Well, please give me a urine sample. And, I’m sorry, Mr….I didn’t get your name,” she said, looking directly at Nick.
“Nick O’Hara,” he said, standing up. He extended his hand. “I’m Scotty’s significant other.”
She nodded her head. “Mr. O’Hara. Do you mind meeting with me in private?”
Nick looked at me and then looked back at the doctor. I nodded my head and Nick reluctantly followed her outside of the curtain that surrounded my room.
I laid there staring at the cup, knowing that I was going to have to be helped into the bathroom so that I could pee in it. I wondered how many more humiliations I was going to have to face. And I prayed that this entire thing was a dream. An awful dream. That there was just no way that I was carrying that monster’s child. No way.
Nick came back in after a few minutes. “Scotty, honey, let’s get you into that bathroom so that you can give the doctor what she’
s asking for,” he said while he gently stroked my hair. And then he softly said “the doctor thinks that you might be having a miscarriage.”
At that, I saw that my arm was shaking wildly, and I felt like I was on the verge of collapse. A miscarriage? My mind couldn’t comprehend that. That there was a child inside of me, and had been for a few months. I mean, it seemed that I had gotten a period since my stay on the island. It never occurred to me that there would be something like that happening inside of me.
A child. Mr. Lucas’ child.
And, all at once, I felt that I needed to vomit. “Nick, give me that trash can, please, right now,” I said. Which he did, in a flash, and I was immediately puking into the can.
The tears were back, with a vengeance, and, this time, I felt that they weren’t going to stop. All of my nightmares that I had been experiencing since getting off that island appeared to be haunting me now in my waking hours. Because this was what it felt like – a nightmare. A waking night terror. There was no way that something like this was real.
Whatever it was that was dead inside of me was alien to me. It wasn’t something that was ever going to turn into a human being. It was evil, like Mr. Lucas was. It wanted to destroy me. And I could feel it trying to. I could hear it speaking to me, telling me that I would never get away from what that man did. I could try to deny that it happened, and try
to live my life in a normal way, but I would never really get away from it. Ever.
I should have felt relief. I should have felt that it was the best possible thing that this alien being was dead. The alternative would have been unspeakable – to bring the seed of that man into this world, and be reminded at every turn about the horrors that befell me in that room
, with that man. But I didn’t feel relief. I felt violated again. Just to think that this…thing…was ever inside of me in the first place, made me want to claw at my skin and reach in there and bring it out.
Nick was still right next to me, looking at me with those blue eyes that were now filled with sorrow and rage. Sorrow for me and rage at Mr. Lucas. I wondered, as I looked at him, what he thought about all of this. And I wondered about myself – how I managed to effectively sweep my feelings under the rug about Mr. Lucas raping me on that island. Why I ever thought that I could just attempt to blow past the rage that I truly felt at Mr. Lucas, and go on with life as if it had never happened. It did happen, and it happened many, many times in the span of just those few days. It happened so frequently that I literally was on the edge of suicide. But every time it happened, I went into a place where I imagined that it wasn’t happening. That was my way of surviving. And now this thing was inside of me, and trying to get out, and it was proof that all that I had tried to forget was really true. I couldn’t really deny it any longer, just like I really couldn’t deny my feelings about it any longer either.
I blinked away my hot tears, and, in a quiet voice, I asked Nick to help me into the bathroom so that I could give the urine sample that the doctor needed. It didn’t really matter at that point. I knew what the result was going to be. It seemed almost preordained.
Nick gently got me off the table, and, just as gently, wheeled me in the bathroom. “Now, I’m going to give you your privacy now, but I’d like to be with you when the doctor examines you. If you want me there.”
I just nodded my head as I was wheeled through the bathroom door. I felt numb at that point. Much like when all of that happened to me with Mr. Lucas. Numb. No feelings. I didn’t know if it was shock that was causing me to clam up or something else. I only felt that there was no way that I was going to be able to truly access my feelings about any of this.
I peed into the cup, and came back out. Nick took the cup and said “honey, I think that you’re supposed to put that cup in that little door in the bathroom. Here, let me do that for you.” And he stood up, the cup in his hand, and put it into the door for me. “Okay, then,” he said, “I’m going to take you back into the examination room so that we can wait for the doctor to talk to you.” And then he got a pair of underwear and a new pad out of the little leather bag that he brought. “But here. Let me help you change before you go back into that exam room.”
He helped me into the fresh panties and pad, and then wheeled me back into the exam room, after disposing of both things.
I felt mortified that Nick had to be privy to all of my humiliations. I felt sorry for him, thinking that he was secretly thinking to himself that I was more trouble than I was worth. He really deserved a girl with fewer issues than myself.
And there was also a thought in my head that I didn’t want to have children, ever. I knew that I had told Nick that I wanted to, and I did at that time. I really did. But having this feeling of the alien being occupying my womb was just too much. I felt dirty and shameful and like my womb was tainted. That I didn’t want any other child to absorb the negative energy that this thing inside of me was putting out.
It wasn’t rational, and I knew that, even at that moment in time. But it was a distinctly negative fantasy, and it felt real to me.
Finally, the doctor came back and told me what I already knew. “The pregnancy test came back positive,” she said. “I’m going to admit you to the hospital to monitor you. And I need to schedule you for a D&C. We can do this after the fetus has expunged itself, which might take a day or more.”
The fetus. It was such an innocent word for what was implanted inside of me by that evil man.
The doctor looked at me. “And, you have had an unusual amount of bleeding for an early miscarriage. I hate to tell you this, but I strongly suspect that you might be carrying multiples. That has been my experience when a woman comes in with this amount of hemorrhaging. Your boyfriend indicated that you were probably only about ten weeks along. Is that what you estimate as well?”
I nodded my head. Ten weeks. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Yet it also seemed like it happened yesterday. It was just something that seemed like it would be haunting all of my waking hours, as well as continue to haunt me when I slept.
Dr. Montgall did look sympathetically at me. “I’m very sorry for this. I know that this is a distressing time for any woman. But if it’s any consolation, it’s a common occurrence and it happens spontaneously more often than not. I hope that you don’t blame yourself.”
I looked at the woman in horror. My mind couldn’t process that she actually believed that this pregnancy was wanted. But that was the implication in her words. Didn’t she know that
this baby was most not welcome? Couldn’t she understand that this thing was planted inside of me by an evil man?