Page 43 of Amnesia

“You mean until I get a job.”

“Take it slow.” He cautioned. “Too much too soon will only cause harm.”

“Right,” I said. It seemed kind of stupid to tell me to take it slow after the meeting yesterday, when they basically said it was time to start a life.

After I signed the papers, Dr. Beck went over a few medical instructions with me and checked my vitals for the millionth time since I woke.

“There is one more thing.” He began, almost as if he didn’t want to bring it up.

“Yes?” I said, leaning back against the bed.

“When you arrived here, we did a full workup on you. X-rays, MRI, etc.”

“Yes, that’s what you said.”

He nodded once. “And I told you about the signs of abuse and the fact that some of your old injuries were still evident.”

“Yes,” I answered, my belly tightening.

Dr. Beck pulled out an X-ray film from a large envelope he’d been holding in his clipboard. He clipped it onto a small light-up box against the wall. “I didn’t want to overload you with so much at once,” he explained as I looked at the image. “But I need to let you know.”

He pointed to a place in what looked like my arm bone. It wasn’t straight like I imagined it should be. It was slightly crooked, as if it had been broken and then the bone fused back together, but not quite right.

“At one point, your arm just below your elbow had been broken. It’s obvious no medical attention was given because of the way it healed.” He pointed to the part I’d been looking at. “The proper term for this is a malunion, meaning the bone healed, but not correctly.”

“Okay, so what do I need to do?” I asked, staring at the X-ray, trying to imagine what could have happened.

“Well, to fix something like this, we would need to re-break the bone and then set it properly.”

“No!” I said, surging up. “No more hospitals.”No more pain.

He didn’t seem at all surprised and nodded. “I figured you would say that, which is why I haven’t brought it up. The arm still works just fine. It may be a little weaker than the other. Does the left arm cause you pain at all?”

“No,” I said, glancing down at it. Again, I marveled at how so much was wrong inside my body that no one could see.

“I would advise just leaving it, then. It’s not ideal, but given the situation, I think it’s best.”

If they said “given the situation” one more time, I might scream. “Well,given the situation,” I said sarcastically, “I agree.”

He ignored my annoyance. “I just wanted to make you aware and let you know if it ever becomes a problem or you notice increased weakening of the arm to come in and see me.”

“I will.” I promised. “Thank you.”

Dr. Beck took down the film and put it away. Before leaving, he said, “I have to tell you, you have by far been my most intriguing patient. What’s happened to you is extremely rare, and I just wanted you to know I’ve done everything I can to help you. Although I admit sometimes I felt I was just flying by the seat of my pants.”

“Ah, so you know how it feels to be me, then,” I cracked. Then I smiled warmly and slipped off the bed. “For the record, you’re the best doctor I’ve ever had.”

“You can’t remember the others,” he reminded me.

I laughed. “Not true. Dr. Kline might be very hurt over my declaration.”

He chuckled. “Yes. Well, I’ll be sure not to tell her.”

“Thank you.” My voice was sincere. “I truly do appreciate everything this hospital has done to help me.”

“I’ll see you at your follow-up in a few weeks,” he said, offering his hand.

I slipped mine in and we shook.

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