Page 35 of Red Queen
“Okay. And that’s it? Cause I’m good with this.” I reply, hoping that this is all it would take, but Vickie talks again.
“That’s not it. There’s one more thing. Just hear us out.” She starts explaining the details of the second part of the act, hearing them out one by one as to how it would help me, and when she finally gets to the point, I start choking on my own saliva.
“You want what?”
21
ROSA
It’s been two weeks since Mateo caught me in the Atlas garage. Am I mad at him? Obviously, he made a whole damn scene in front of the team, and on top of that, he humiliated me by calling me a liar. I didn’t know being a family member of a rival team principal was a crime now. He acted like a manchild, and I was once again reminded how much menloveto communicate.
I went back to Miami to visit Lana and my parents, then flew back home, to Spain, to my abuelos. I probably look like shit from all the time zone changes. I skipped Friday on track and only watched the two free practices from our house.
My parents sold the house I grew up in when we moved to the US, but my abuelos got mad at them for not keeping the house in Spain. So, when they had enough assets, and with a little help from my uncle, they bought a smaller house next to the ocean. It’s kind of like a holiday house. We only go there if we’re visiting my abuelos or just want a quick trip to Spain and take a dip in the ocean.
I was excited when they bought it, because now we can come home again without having to be locked up in a two-room house with my abuelos, where I had to sleep on the floor.
Lana has been informing me with news of Mateo, even though I asked her not to, as I decided I don’t want to hear about him for a while. He was a dick to me, bigger than what’s between his legs, so either he makes up for it or we really are over. Not that we have officially dated, but still.
It’s funny, though, how we only met almost two months ago, and how much connection we felt after only a month. Or at least I did. I never really believed in love at first sight; and although we’re far away from being in love, it’s a shame he messed up in such a stupid way the chemistry and tension we had. I really thought we were going to have something more, that I could finally have a normal relationship.
Now I’m at home, trying to get ready for the third free practice and qualifying, if I weren’t curled up in a ball, gripping the side of the bed as the beam of the sun lights up the room. It would be a nice start to the day if I weren’t suffering from having a uterus.
I’ve always had problems with period pain, mostly when I was around 15 years old. There were two times when I was cramping so bad that I passed out from the pain in my mother’s arms. That’s when we decided that I had to go to the doctor.
And guess what was the solution? That’s right, contraceptive pills. I didn’t know back then that it was only a temporary solution and they would actually cause more harm than good.
I stopped taking them when I was 20, and since then, thankfully, I have had no cramps. But it did mess up my hormones so bad that it took eight months until my period cycle went back to normal. Not to mention, sometimes I still deal with nasty pimples. But at least the pain stopped. Or at least that’s what I thought, until they came back around three years later.
The cramps weren’t at all as bad as before. I only felt a little pinch every once in a while, which I thought was normal. But as time passed by, they got worse again.
I was always nervous around doctors, especially gynecologists. I’m not particularly afraid of them, but just the thought that I have a problem that I shouldn’t have, and I have to go to a doctor to take care of it.
So, still to this day, I still haven’t gone to the doctor for my period pain. I’ve always suspected that it might be because I have endometriosis, but I just never wanted to acknowledge it.
A couple of women have dealt with this in my family. My cousin was 26 years old when they started treating her, and thankfully, she got better after the surgery, but she cannot have another kid now.
She has a little boy who is three years old, and last year her results were so bad that they told her she was at risk of dying if they didn't treat her. So, of course, she had the surgery and fought to be by his son’s side for the rest of her life, but at a great cost.
Just thinking about how this could happen to me, too, that I’m here as a 25-year-old woman, dreaming about having a family someday, but because of a serious health condition, I might not have one, is absolutely terrifying. Maybe it really is time to go to the doctor, before it’s too late.
“Carajo!” I cry out in pain, pulling my legs closer to my chest, but it’s not helping at all. I need to take a painkiller or I’ll pass out again.
I somehow manage to sit up on the bed, fall to the ground, and start dragging myself toward the bathroom on all fours. To hell if I’m going to walk now. The tear-stains on my face start to sting as they dry up, my brain forcing me to go on, even though I can feel that I’ve already bled through my pants.
By whatever miracle, I reach the bathroom, pulling myself up to sit on the toilet, and grab the painkiller from the cabinet. I take my toothbrush out of the cup, fill it with water, then pour the powder into it.
This medicine is as strong as a horse kick, and it tastes like shit, but this is the only thing that helps at this point. I gave up warming my tummy way too long ago. I wish it would hurt only that much.
I chug down the awful-tasting water, letting my head fall back, and wait for it to kick in. It’s a white powder, and it numbs me. It’s so strong that you’re supposed to take probiotics with it. Awesome. I’m basically a drug addict.
Tears fall down my face, wetting my pants, but I can’t bring myself to move. As the medicine slowly starts to work, sleep takes over my senses, and I fall asleep just as I close my eyes.
I wake up to a strange feeling. My eyes pop open, and I jump down from the toilet, just in time before I throw up. It’s only liquid that comes out, and I suddenly remember that I took the painkiller, only to realize I didn’t have any food in my stomach for it to work properly. It was probably too late when I drank it, and now I’m throwing up. This day just keeps getting better and better.
After I feel there’s no more stuff that wants to come out, I pull myself up and wash my mouth. I look up to see a messy woman in the mirror, my hair sticking to my tear-stained face, and my shirt has god knows what kind of stains on it.
As I look behind to check my pants, I see the big red mark fully displayed. There’s no way this will come out in the wash. Awesome.
