Page 12 of Avenged

We all need a shinin’ star

On which we can depend.”

Performed by Bryan Adams

Written by Kamen / Lange / Adams

I must have passed out after Travis started the truck, because I didn’t remember the drive to the hospital. I was just so damn exhausted. The pain flew back through me as soon as he shook my shoulder, and my eyes popped back open.

He’d parked near the emergency room doors, and the lights shone brightly in my eyes. I wanted to groan, not because of the light, but because I couldn’t afford to be there. I barely had enough to cover my new round of bills. I couldn’t spend money on an outrageous ER visit for them to tell me I had cramps and the stomach flu.

I was used to the pain as much as I was used to the heavy bleeding. True, I’d never gone through as many pads and tampons as I had today, but it happened. The vomiting was just because I’d eaten something bad. I was sure of it.

Travis got out of the pickup, and Violet followed him. I sat, still buckled in, as the pain took over, making me want to be at home in my bed with my heating pad and another round of ibuprofen. Travis opened the door.

“Let’s go,” he said.

“I already told you I can’t.” It hurt to talk. It hurt to move. Didn’t they understand that? I just wanted to stay put.

He reached over me and unbuckled the seat belt. He smelled good. Like sea and spice and everything nice. Wasn’t that supposed to be the saying about little girls? I rubbed my forehead. I was delusional.

“Please, Jersey,” Violet said from behind him, and I caved because there was so much fear and anxiety in her voice. Because I didn’t want to cause her any more trauma in her life than I was already responsible for. Because I knew she hated hospitals as much as I did, and for her to want me to be here, I had to look bad.

I nodded and slid out. The pain radiated from my pelvic area up through my stomach and my lower back. It made me want to throw up again. It made me want to sit back down. I gritted my teeth and took a few slow, cautious steps.

“Jesus,” Travis muttered, and then he picked me up as if I weighed nothing. As if I were a little girl instead of a full-grown woman. Tears pricked my eyes, and I shut them fast, holding tight the salty drops so I wouldn’t show them.

In truth, I didn’t have the energy to fight either of them, because I was engaged in battle with the pain and nausea. I rested my head on Travis’s shoulder and tried not to think about how nice it would be to have someone this concerned about me on a regular basis. A thought I wouldn’t let myself hang onto because I knew for a fact that, in the end, the only person you could truly count on was yourself.

? ??

An hour later, the ER staff had shot me up with pain relievers, and I was starting to panic again because they’d ordered a bunch of tests I knew I’d never be able to afford. I’d just come back from the ultrasound, and they were already whisking me off for an MRI. When I looked back at the curtained area I’d been in, Violet had her face in her hands.

“Violet,” I called, and she jerked up as if she hadn’t wanted me to know she was upset.

“I’m okay,” I told her, and she nodded. I wished, momentarily, that Travis had come in with us instead of sitting in the waiting room, because then he’d be able to keep her company.

The orderly wheeled me away, and we hadn’t gotten far down the hall when I told him to stop. When he didn’t, I raised my voice. “Stop. Take me back.”

“What?” he asked.

“Take me back to the room please.”

“But I have orders to take you down to the lab,” he said with a startled look on his face.

“Just take me back to the room.”

I was freaking him out. He pushed the bed with me in it to the side of the corridor and said he’d be right back. I returned to my curled-up position.

“Jersey?”

I opened my eyes as the female doctor who’d examined me came into view. “Ed says you asked him to take you back to the room. Is there a reason?”

“Look. I can’t afford this. If you can’t get a diagnosis off of the ultrasound images, then it’s obvious everything is fine. I just need to go home.”

“We can figure out finances later. I highly recommend you do this now,” she said with a frown.

“No. You won’t be the one receiving the late notices and collection calls. I truly can’t afford this. I am going to struggle to pay for what we’ve already done,” I told her. With the pain shielded behind a wall of pain medications, I had more energy to force the situation.

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