Staff Writer
It was the end of 10th grade, and I was overcome with feelings of boredom and aloofness as Summer vacation drew closer and closer. Being the preternaturally serious person I am, I continued to work on my school assignments in silence while choosing to evade the loquacious nature of most of my classmates. Everything in my life seemed to be conducting in a manner that matched my pedestrian life. My taciturn personality was often overshadowed by the bubbliness of my classmates, and my generic Asian face made it difficult for me to be the slightest bit memorable. But these mundane details of my life didn’t bother me. I didn’t care about the fact that I was never the charismatic Gatsby type that could easily charm people with one smile. I enjoyed the feeling of being distant with people as it created a strong shield for my inner feelings. If I didn’t make the effort to associate with anyone, my feelings would never get hurt. Besides, a very cynical voice inside me told me that there wasn’t any point in being friends with anyone. I would leave for college in three years, and cut all contact with anyone from Saint Maur.
My indifference to my school affairs intensified the month before school ended.
* * *
I remember waking up one morning feeling the extreme heat from my body permeate the entire surface of my bed sheets. A sense of dizziness overcame me as I clumsily looked for my phone in intense exhaustion. Knowing that Mr. G posted the final cast list for A Midsummer Night’s Dream, I fumbled with my phone and logged into Google Drive. My excitement was soon met with utter disappointment, however as I realized that I was given yet another minor role to play. Oh great Another minor role, again! What a joke!
Paying no attention to the flaming heat that was consuming my body, I stumbled out of my bed with the last bit of energy I had left. I called out for my mom in a whiny faint voice, but my attention was soon diverted when she grasped my face with her cold hands.
“Your face is extremely hot! Check your body temperature now!” exclaimed my mom worriedly. She took out a thermometer and jabbed it under my armpit.
“I got another minor role again! So annoying…” I said, with the volume of my words trailing off in exhaustion.
My mom didn’t respond to my words. Her facial expression remained the same as if I’d simply told her that I was leaving home to go to school, or that I was hungry. It was almost as if she learned to be immune to any harsh words from her daughter so that her own emotions wouldn’t be overshadowed by gloominess.
* * *
Over the next few days, I visited two doctors. One doctor told me that it was possible that I have a bone disorder. The other doctor told me that I should probably test for Thyroid disease. Either way, I didn’t care. I could get the most severe form of cancer possible, and that still wouldn’t change the fact that I have to study for my IGCSE exams that was taking place in a week.
* * *
“Shouldn’t you study for your exams?” asked my mom while vacuuming my room.
“I’m sick mom! How am I supposed to study when I’m sick?” I grunted, as I continued to watch Clueless on my laptop.
It definitely wasn’t one of those days where I would take a single day off school for staying up too late the previous night because of a pile of assignments, and report to the school as being “sick”. I was indeed extremely sick as I had a fever of 39 degrees celsius, and was coughing non-stop. My ill condition somewhat eased the guilt of not touching my textbooks to study for the exams, but knowing that I would have to take the exams as soon as I arrived back in school, my paranoia doubled, and that was evident in the way I talked to my mom.
“Shut up, mom! I’m sick! Stop mentioning the IGCSE exams!” I would yell across my bedroom at my mom. That was a typical conversation between my mother and I during the last month of tenth grade.
* * *
I came back from yet another clinic. This time, the clinic was supposed to be better than the previous one according to my dad.
“Clinics run by young doctors aren’t good! They’re not experienced enough!” remarked my father during my visit to my previous doctor.
The medicine I received from the new clinic was supposed to stop my diarrhea, which apparently started because of the fever medicine I took from the previous clinic. When I got back to my house, I was prepared to be babied by my mom. Being the nervous person my mom was, she cut me slices of apples and served me expensive Taiwanese tea that was grown in the highest mountain in Taiwan, Yushan.
“No wonder you got sick! You never ate your veggies properly!” scolded my mom. She was attempting to feed me several slices of apples as if I was still a kid in preschool.
“No mom, I didn’t get sick because I didn’t eat my veggies, or whatever. I probably got sick from stress,” I said coolly, as I munched on my food with little enthusiasm.
I went back to my bed that night hoping it would ease my stomach ache. It didn’t. The pain just escalated to a whole new level of pain that I had never experienced before.
* * *
The orange lighting in my bedroom suddenly had a dreamlike quality to it that I had never seen before. In a flash of a moment, I felt an extreme burning sensation in my lower abdomen. A pain that I had never foreseen nor experienced before. I could feel something inside my body that was ripping me into shreds with no sign of mercy. Initially, I waited for a few moments thinking that the pain would go away. I closed my eyes and clenched my fists to endure the pain, and tried to roll around on my bed in hopes of finding a comfortable position. But the pain didn’t go away. I was ready to pass out at any moment.
Next thing I knew, I was in the back of an ambulance.
* * *
I was strapped on a stretcher at the back of an ambulance embracing the bright white light that shone into my eyes. The intense pain in my abdomen had not gone away. I started to groan in pain as the paramedics in the ambulance bombarded me with questions.
‘Where is the pain in your stomach located? Upper abdomen? Or lower abdomen?’
‘What was the last thing you ate?’
‘When was your last menstruation cycle?’
I couldn’t handle the abundant number of questions anymore. The pain in my stomach had spread so much throughout my whole body that it felt like I was lit on fire. I didn’t want to hear the voices of anyone anymore. The fear that I was going to slap the paramedics and yell at them to drive me to the hospital had occupied my mind like angry swarms of bees. When I finally arrived at the hospital, I was carried out of the ambulance on my stretcher. I remember the echoing worried voice of my mother as she held my hand tightly and followed me to the entrance of the hospital.
When I opened my eyes the next day, I experienced a day that I would never forget.
* * *
The morning breeze gently kissed my face as I slowly started to realize where I was. As I looked around my surroundings, I realized that I was placed in a very plain hospital room. There was white everywhere except for the baby pink color of the curtains and the brown desk that stood plainly beside me. As I propped myself up from my bed to get a closer look at my surroundings, I felt a sharp pain in my right arm. Looking down, I realized that I had an IV needle stuck to my arm connected to a large IV pole with a dangling IV solution bag. The sight of the needle injected into my arm amazed me. It was the first time that I had ever received IV treatment.
Suddenly, I heard a knock at the door.
A rather tall lean man wearing a white coat and a surgical mask entered into my room. He was a very young looking man whose eyes sparkled with a refreshing force that was common in opportunistic, young people. Although his mask had covered more than half of his face, I could tell that he was a very handsome man with white vibrant skin; the kind of skin that would certainly be favored according to Japanese beauty standards. Just taking one glance at him reminded me of the Japanese ice skater, Hanyū Yuzuru. There was a certain boyish charm that the man had radiated, which had instantly caught my attention.
‘My name is Kudō Kento. I will be your doctor during your entire stay at this hospital,’ said Dr. Kudō.
I couldn’t believe it. He’s my doctor? How old is this guy anyway? He looks like he just graduated from college!
The unexpected entry of this attractive man had shocked me. Never in my life did I think that such a handsome man would be my doctor. I was certainly expecting an old, wrinkled man as my doctor instead.
What is this? A handsome young guy as my doctor? This seems like a typical plot from a manga written for teenage girls!
‘Can you lie down on bed for a while? I need to do a check-up on you.’
What? No! Oh my gosh, what? Is he going to touch me?
Despite my conflicted feelings, I forced myself to keep the most boring, straight face I could pull off. I certainly did not want to blush at the thought that a young man was going to observe my body.
‘I’m sorry, I will have to lift your shirt up a bit,” said Dr. Kudō with a slightly apologetic tone. It was as if he was thinking that it was highly unusual and absurd for a young man to be this near to a young girl’s body.
* * *
There I was lying on my hospital bed with the face of Prince Charming inches away from mine. We were so close that I could feel his warm breath circulating the surface of my unwashed, oily skin.
Avoid any eye contact with him, and you won’t blush or laugh! Don’t you dare think of something inappropriate!
Doing what my mind had told me, I looked straight at the bare ceiling and pretended to be a dead fish. A dead fish that was out in the Sahara Desert with the blistering suns rays blasting my poor scales.
Suddenly, I felt the doctor’s warm fingers pressing my stomach down to check for the source of my stomach pain.
“Does it hurt here?”
“Uh…no.”
“A bit lower down your abdomen?”
“Yes…I think. Probably.”
While I was concentrating on my impersonation of a dead fish, a horrible thought had occupied my mind: I’m not wearing a bra!
A sudden flashback of myself entering the hospital bombarded my brain. A memory of myself from the night before, taking a x-ray photo in a very cold, dark room. A nurse had skillfully unhooked my bra while I was half conscious, and did not give it back to me.
There I was in my hospital room. My stiff body lying on the hospital bed with a very dangerous silhouette of my chest showing through my thin, cotton shirt. Never in my life did I ever feel that exposed. I could feel my cheeks turning into a bright shade of pink, as Dr. Kudō continued to touch my poor stomach that had gone through two humiliating situations: an extremely horrible stomach ache that may have been the closest feeling of giving birth, and a young, charming man destroying its dignity.
* * *
Days had passed as I grew used to living in the bare atmosphere of my hospital room. I was used to the soft knocks of Dr. Kudō on the door, who would routinely come into my room to listen to my heartbeat and tap my stomach. I was also used to the hustling of the nurses who would frequently check the volume of my IV solution bag. Staying at the hospital made me feel extremely calm. There was no one to criticize me, or tell me to study. I was also able to achieve a perfect ten hours of sleep everyday, which had evidently improved my overall mood and my gaunt skin complexion. In fact, I was getting so used to this lax lifestyle that I had almost come to see Dr. Kudō as a very warm, intelligent older brother. An older brother who I had always wanted to have. Someone I could easily boast about to my friends and say, “That’s my older brother! He’s an accomplished doctor at a well-known hospital!”
* * *
Dr. Kudō entered my room one night, as I was eating my plain, oil-free dinner that was provided by the hospital. I glanced at the IV needle injected into my arm and winced in slight discomfort.
“When is it possible to remove this? It hurts when I bend my arm,” I said while I sat in front of my desk.
Dr. Kudō knelt down and gazed at me with warm sympathy. He gently held my right hand that was clumsily laid on the desk, and looked back at me with pity.
“Ah, I remember the time when I was hospitalized for the first time. I didn’t like this IV needle either,” said Dr. Kudō with a touch of casualty to his tone.
“Oh really,” I said. I couldn’t think of a better way to respond as I had never had a casual conversation with a young man before. Although I went to a co-ed school, I had spent the previous ten years of my life in an all-girls’ school. The only man that I would routinely converse with was my father, and it would only be about politics or something mundane like the weather.
Dr. Kudō continued to hold my wrist while giving me a congenial smile. In that moment, it seemed as it the world outside the hospital didn’t matter. Saint Maur never existed, and I was in a state that I hadn’t experienced in a very long time. I wasn’t sleep deprived, nor lacking proper nutrition. Anything I wanted was at my fingertips: the button on the remote which signalled Dr. Kudō to come into my room.
* * *
When the day that I had to leave the hospital finally came, I anxiously waited for my body to bring back waves of sharp pains in my stomach. But nothing came. The days of sleeping ten hours, eating meals at regular times, and not studying had come to an inevitable end. I remember packing my clothes and my towels in a glum, slow manner as my mother waited for me outside the hospital at a nearby bus station.
* * *
A familiar soft knock came at the door. I looked up amidst of my tedious packing, and saw Dr. Kudō’s tall, lean figure again. He was standing in front of my door with his usual lab coat and his surgical mask. What could he possibly be here for? I’m obviously not sick anymore, and we already said our polite goodbyes.
Dr. Kudō walked towards me in his usual, professional way of walking. He took a pen out of his lab coat pocket and gave it to me as if he was giving me a very important gift.
“Here, you can have it. Keep it as a memory of your first stay at a hospital.”
I held the pen with both hands and observed it closely. It was one of those ordinary multi-colored ballpoint pens that doctors keep in their office. The kind of pen that I would often see a doctor write with when he was diagnosing a patient.
“Thank you,” I said with a faint voice. I was almost speechless as I had never experienced such kindness before from someone I hardly knew. After I said those last words, I watched Dr. Kudō walk out of my room, knowing that I would probably never see him again. A vague feeling of emptiness clouded my mind as I stared at the pen.
* * *
Everything seemed like a blur following the days of my release from the hospital. The days of my stay at the hospital felt almost surreal. I could not come to comprehend the idea that my body had gone under intense agony and exhaustion for a whole week, and now I was completely fine. I did not feel like myself anymore. I had lost three kilograms during the week that I was sick due to a severe loss of appetite that had occurred when I was sick.. The fact that the cause of my stomach pain remained a mystery even after going through many health tests at the hospital only added to the enigmatic situation that I had experienced the month before tenth grade ended.
I thought I would be happy to be back in Saint Maur as a healthy, normal person. I remember walking to the front gate of school on a sunny afternoon after a day of my release from the hospital. The unfamiliar faces of my friends eagerly greeted me as I tried to reciprocate their bubbliness. What exactly happened to me a few days ago? Am I actually back in school now? When I finally entered the high school hallways, my eyes wandered around and caught countless shapes of unfamiliar people walking by. Again and again, I tried to recall what had happened to me in the previous days, as I tried to reconnect with my friends from the dead center of the school that was no school. As I write these words, I continue to glance at the pen Dr. Kudō gave to me. Perhaps I decided to write a very long memoir, knowing that one day the memories of my first hospital visit would soon fade to nothingness.