“Sick, Sicker, Sickest.”

This short story contains suspense, and mental and physical health issues.

Introduction:

I approached the pharmacy. I saw a small paper taped to the door. The sign read in Sharpie-

“If you have a cough- do not enter.”

So, I cried as I returned home walking home in the snow without my meds.

Title: “Sick- Sicker- Sickest”

Part 1- Sick: One Hundred Symptoms and Counting.

When you are dying, every second matters. I was sick and fighting. Tapering off a benzodiazepine quite at a rapid rate. Faster than what my studies had told me. 

I cried again as I entered my parent’s house. They were snowed in at a friend’s mansion. Must be nice! I often wondered why they needed four fire places, but today, I totally understood, because when I went to turn on the lights- BIG SURPRISE- no electricity. That meant no hot water, and we did not think to collect extra firewood that week. 

I sat at our dinner table after seeking out a flashlight in the dark. I was reading, “Blasted,” by Sarah Kane. She killed herself when she was my age. I read the play in an hour with a flashlight that was dying. I used it to bring out the candles and matches. Candles it would have to be. This made me nervous. I once spilled hot candle wax on my parent’s carpet. It was ruined, and it made my mom cry. 

I began coughing hard from my Tourette’s disorder, and couldn’t stop. I wanted my mother there to help calm me down, but it was just me. Just me till when? The roads were a mess, and the mansion was miles away. 

The weather was always bad here-as if never to change. Day in and day out- cold, gloomy. When it snowed, it snowed hard with straight line winds. Not something a sick person should be out in. 

My cell phone rang, and I panicked due to having a low battery. It was my dying aunt. We had a lot in common. It was always a long and sad conversation. I could not answer, so I cried again. Cold and alone, I went to bed, and had one of my seizures. The last seizure ended me up in the ER. Tachycardia at 179 heart beats per minute.

Hmm. Maybe they had electricity. My insurance covered ambulance rides, so to get out of the miserable atmosphere of my parent’s house, I called 911. They put me on hold, and my battery was at nine percent. Then they answered, and asked for my address, and I just screamed as if in pain. I knew if I said I had chest pains then they would have to come get me. Maybe I would get a room with a television. I did. 

Safe for the night, I watched television with the morphine drip going into my arm. Sweet relief from everything- I drifted off to sleep which was a rare and beautiful thing for me as I rarely sleep. I once went a month with only thirty hours of non consecutive sleep. Broke the world record twice.

Part 2- Sicker: 200 Plus Symptoms recorded.

If I could tell this doctor off in a different language, and get away with it- I would be so happy, but I only know English. 

“Fire! My body especially my brain at the brain stem is all on fire!”

He just looked at me, and asked if I drank. I walked out after having over two hundred appointments with doctors, specialists, and surgeons in one year. 

I immediately decided- maybe I should drink to help me get through my depression. So, what shall I get? Hmm.

The local bar had even more specials on snow days specifically for people who walked there. People like me. When I entered, I cried cause I had made it by walking in the shoveled streets. 

Thanks to the people who clear the streets in Arkansas by the way! 

“We’re sorry, but our kitchen is down. Can I make you a drink?” Asked Kevin, and I looked him dead in the eye, and said-

“Mezcal, and I want the scorpion. Fish it out for me will you?”

He gave me a sad look. 

“How are you going to make it home, honey?” He asked.

“I’m walking as always. Now make that a triple! It’s cold out there. Three scorpions.”

“I can do two scorpions and one agave worm.”

“That will make me love you forever. Can I tell you a secret, and can you promise me you won’t laugh? Please?”

“No problem.” He said as he leaned forwards over the bar. He cracked his neck, and looked really sexy doing it.

“I want to go back to school. Can you help talk me into it? Please?”

“Get your ass to class, boy!” He threw a bar rag over his shoulder as he got closer to me, and whispered, “Get your master’s, and get the hell out of here. Then come save me. Lol.” He actually said LOL. The dork. 

So, guess who paid for my ride home? Yep, Kevin. The sweet dope. Maybe I would come back to him, but first things first:

Echocardiogram, colonoscopy, cystoscopy, septoplasty, stress test, rhinoplasty, dental surgery, ultrasound, and gall bladder removal- all in two months. 

Part 3: Sickest- Maximum 232 Symptoms Recorded.

Today was colder. Probably the coldest yet, and I was stuck upstairs in my parent’s house again crying. I had gotten accepted into the school I wanted. Onward to my master’s degree! Yay! Not!

I was so scared. My symptoms plus some of the hardest work I’ve ever done. All I wanted was a pint of vodka, and you know what I did? Something really stupid. I ran down the main roads to the liquor store. Got my vodka. I ran by semi trucks on my way back home. They cheered for me as they turned left and I turned right. Little did they know I had a pint of vodka in my tube sock- the only way my parents wouldn’t know. Years of this practice- never caught. I would just sneak it past them. 

Part 4: The End.

The deranged doctor told me-

“You need to calm down.”

I began to seize up all over my body.

“Stop it now.”

I could not.

“Get a grip!” 

And he slapped me right across the face, then he back-handed me, picked me up, and rather aggressively through me out the door and locked it. So, I mumbled- 

“I’ll get you. I will get you.” Then on my way out, I kept saying over and over, “I’ll get you. I will get you. Just wait. I’ll get you for this. I’ll get you. I will get you. Just wait. I’ll get you for this…” I could not help myself for I saw red. As I reached my truck, I took out my special, protective machete. Then I went back inside.