Blinded
Paper and Pencil
“Hello, Mr. Way.” The door behind me closes and the doctor takes my arm and leads me into the room.
“Sit here.” I reach backwards as I bend my knees and quickly find the armrest of a chair. I sit.
“So, it must be nice to have both of your hands back, huh?” I pull off a – no doubt – fake smile and nod lightly. The doctor hums. I’ve already forgotten his name.
“Well, Mr. Way. Have you given any thought to how you would like to deal with your situation?” Situation. It sounds so…judging.
“If you want to go through with the surgery, we will need to set up a date. Also we would need to take a new CT-scan and draw some blood to test if you might be allergic to any anesthetics.” I gulp. This is all too real.
“I understand that this must be a hard decision for you.” How can he fucking understand?
“Have you talked to you family or any friends about your decision?” Why haven’t I talked to Mikes? I don’t even know why. He knows, but-
“Mr. Way, I know-“
“I wanna do it.” I don’t wanna hear about his understanding and apologies. I just wanna see. I wanna see my brother again. I wanna see this room.
I need to see myself again.
“Are you sure, Mr. Way? Have you talked to someone about this?”
“Yes.” I simply answer. My breathing is heavy and slow. I’m chewing on my lip nervously.
“Okay. Good.” The doctor’s voice is slow and quiet. He’s not whispering, but his voice is still so very low.
“I’ll sign you up for the tests then. We’re booked for the rest of the day, so you’re gonna have to come back next week to do the initial tests. Then we’ll take it from there.” I can hear him scribble some things down. He’s using a pencil. I can hear it – the lead scratching against the paper. It’s smooth paper. Not like the paper I draw on.
I drew on.
“Sit still!” I yelled – annoyed. No, I was beyond annoyed. I was furious.
“I’m trying!” Frank sat still for about two seconds, before he flinched again. He didn’t fall back into the same position.
“Frank!” I practically screamed. Steam was probably pouring out of my ears.
“Fuck, Gee! I didn’t ask you to draw me, for fuck’s sake!” I got up, threw my pencil and sketchpad on the couch and stomped over to him.
“No! But I wanna draw you, so sit fucking still already!” I grabbed his arm and yanked it back to the side of his leg and then grabbed his hand to wrap it around his foot. I grabbed his other hand and twisted it around to how it was before. I then grabbed his face it yanked it to the side.
“Ow!”
“Stop whining and sit still.” I let go of his face and started rearranging his hair – careful to get it to fall the way it did before. Frank was glaring at me.
I gave up on his hair and withdrew my shaking hands.
I walked back over to the couch and picked up the sketchpad and my pencil. I sat down and faced Frank.
He’d moved.
I started drawing anyways. Soon my shaking hands went steady enough for me to draw his detailed features from memory.
“Sit here.” I reach backwards as I bend my knees and quickly find the armrest of a chair. I sit.
“So, it must be nice to have both of your hands back, huh?” I pull off a – no doubt – fake smile and nod lightly. The doctor hums. I’ve already forgotten his name.
“Well, Mr. Way. Have you given any thought to how you would like to deal with your situation?” Situation. It sounds so…judging.
“If you want to go through with the surgery, we will need to set up a date. Also we would need to take a new CT-scan and draw some blood to test if you might be allergic to any anesthetics.” I gulp. This is all too real.
“I understand that this must be a hard decision for you.” How can he fucking understand?
“Have you talked to you family or any friends about your decision?” Why haven’t I talked to Mikes? I don’t even know why. He knows, but-
“Mr. Way, I know-“
“I wanna do it.” I don’t wanna hear about his understanding and apologies. I just wanna see. I wanna see my brother again. I wanna see this room.
I need to see myself again.
“Are you sure, Mr. Way? Have you talked to someone about this?”
“Yes.” I simply answer. My breathing is heavy and slow. I’m chewing on my lip nervously.
“Okay. Good.” The doctor’s voice is slow and quiet. He’s not whispering, but his voice is still so very low.
“I’ll sign you up for the tests then. We’re booked for the rest of the day, so you’re gonna have to come back next week to do the initial tests. Then we’ll take it from there.” I can hear him scribble some things down. He’s using a pencil. I can hear it – the lead scratching against the paper. It’s smooth paper. Not like the paper I draw on.
I drew on.
“Sit still!” I yelled – annoyed. No, I was beyond annoyed. I was furious.
“I’m trying!” Frank sat still for about two seconds, before he flinched again. He didn’t fall back into the same position.
“Frank!” I practically screamed. Steam was probably pouring out of my ears.
“Fuck, Gee! I didn’t ask you to draw me, for fuck’s sake!” I got up, threw my pencil and sketchpad on the couch and stomped over to him.
“No! But I wanna draw you, so sit fucking still already!” I grabbed his arm and yanked it back to the side of his leg and then grabbed his hand to wrap it around his foot. I grabbed his other hand and twisted it around to how it was before. I then grabbed his face it yanked it to the side.
“Ow!”
“Stop whining and sit still.” I let go of his face and started rearranging his hair – careful to get it to fall the way it did before. Frank was glaring at me.
I gave up on his hair and withdrew my shaking hands.
I walked back over to the couch and picked up the sketchpad and my pencil. I sat down and faced Frank.
He’d moved.
I started drawing anyways. Soon my shaking hands went steady enough for me to draw his detailed features from memory.