Growing Up Might Bring Us Down

I fell back into my usual school routine; wake up, get dressed, go out for coffee and breakfast with Vanessa, then go to class at whenever I was supposed to be there. I tried the hardest I could to go through the routine the best I could, like I usually did, happy and with a smile on my face. But I couldn’t, my body just wouldn’t let me do it, I was slow and sulky.

I managed to try the routine for the first two days back, but rapidly I pulled myself away from all that. It was just too much to handle. Luckily for me, I came down with the stomach virus, forcing me to stay in my room and wallow in my own self pity for the rest of the week. I did manage to get myself to my most important classes though.

Friday afternoon, after her last class of the day, Vanessa barged through the door, exclaiming, “I’m taking you to the nurse.”

I was seated on the floor, hunched over my plastic pink garbage pail which was sitting between my legs, ready to catch any bile that forced its way up. “No, it’s nothing.” I weakly argued.

She put her hand on her hip and retorted, “If it’s nothing, then why do you look like shit?” It was a rhetorical question.

She came over to me, grabbed the bucket that I emptied just a few minutes ago from me, pulled me to my feet, told me, “Get your shoes and a fucking coat.”

I obliged, grabbing one of Ross’s sweatshirts that I stole oh-so-many summers ago, and slipping on my gray pair of TOMS that Jess bought me for Christmas this past year. Then, Vanessa took my hand, and I let myself be dragged by her all the way down to the campus infirmary.
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“Natalie Classon.” The receptionist called from her place at the door which led to all the examination rooms.

I nodded my head in response, getting up to be followed to my room for the visit, Vanessa following on my trail.

“Nurse Joan will be with you shortly.” The girl informed us, before she left to go back to her desk. There were no other patients waiting to be examined, so hopefully this will be short and painless.

“I don’t know why you dragged me here.” I turned to Vanessa.

“Because unlike yourself, I actually care about your health and want you to get better and stop spending so much time in our room.” She said back with attitude.

“It’s nothing,” I said for the millionth time, “It’s just the stomach virus.”

“Sure it is.” Was Vanessa’s closing statement since the nurse finally walked in.

Looking at what I assume to be my chart, the woman asked, “So what brings you here today?”

Just as I was about to respond, Vanessa answered for me, “She’s been throwing up every day this week.”

Nurse Joan turned her attention from Vanessa and looked at me in confirmation. I simply added in, “More when I’m trying to sleep, than when I’m awake.”

She looked back down at the white papered chart in her hands before speaking again. “Are you sexually active?” she questioned, still looking down at the papers.

“I guess…” I answered wearily.

Finally she looked up and I took notice that she had green eyes, those enchanting green eyes to be exact. “It’s either a ‘yes, I’ve had sex’ or a ‘no, I’m a virgin’.” She told me with a little chuckle.

“Yes.” I answered back.

“How long ago was your last time?” she asked and then went back to her chart.

“About three weeks.” I informed her.

“Okay,” she replied back, “Just give me a moment, I just need to go get a few things and I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” Vanessa and I said and nodded in response.

Once Nurse Joan exited the room I looked back at Vanessa who was sitting in the metal black chair while I was up on the bed, “Why is she asking me about my sex life?” I rhetorically questioned. “It’s just the stomach virus.” I groaned. Why isn’t anyone listening to me? I know my body better than they do. It’s the stomach virus; I’ve had it many times before.

Nessa shook her head, and unwillingly agreed, “Whatever you say, Nat.” I could tell that she was getting fed up with me and my whining.

Nurse Joan walked back in with a clear plastic cup and a needle contraption in her hand. “Okay, Natalie,” she began to explain, “In here I’m going to need you to go into the bathroom and produce a urine sample,” she held out the cup for me to take, and then pointed to the bathroom door down the hall. “Then when you’re done with that I’m going to take a blood sample,” she held up the needle and I cringed away. I hated needles.

“Kay.” I said, taking the cup out of her grasp and made my way to the bathroom to do my business.

I handed Joan my pee cup and hopped up onto the table, holding my hand out for Vanessa to grab. The nurse pressed around my arm trying to find a vein, it took way too long. And when she finally found one, she picked up the needle and got ready to puncture my skin.

“Wait.” I nearly shouted in the quiet filled room. Nurse Joan looked up at me, telling me with her eyes that I was going to be fine, but I continued with my outburst. “Is that a butterfly needle?” I asked, already knowing that it wasn’t, it was far too big.

“No, it’s not.” She said, taking another look at the needle.

“I need a butterfly needle, my veins are too small.” I told her matter-of-factly.

“Alright.” She went over to one of the draws in the room and pulled out another needle, hopefully it was the right one. Unfortunately, for me, it was. Fuck. I hate hate hate shots and needles!

Once again she found my vein and this time she actually got the needle in, I cringed into Vanessa’s shoulder, looking away.

The last time I received a needle into my body was in Tempe. John and I decided to give blood for Corona del Sol High School’s annual blood drive. It wasn’t a good idea from the start since both of us are afraid of needles, but Shane guilted us into it, so we stuck to our promise. John went first, he wasn’t happy about it, but he did. I held his hand throughout the whole time and he was fine, not a tear was shed from my big baby. But my turn, now that’s where we had the problems. The nurse couldn’t find a good vein to use, problem number one. Then once a vein was located they shoved the needle through, it hurt like a bitch and tears started to freely stream down my cheeks. John took my free hand in his, rubbing my back, and whispering sweet calming words in my ear. Because the needle was too big they had to quickly retract it, and find a butterfly one. And once they did, giving blood was a little easier to stand. I vowed to myself to never give blood again, and John joked that he wants my blood in my body because he doesn’t want anyone but him to have me. He’s cheesy, and I fell for it. After the needle incident I couldn’t bend my left arm for two days. John was a sweetheart and let me “take it easy” while he took “care of me”. He can take care of a hurting arm, but what about a broken heart? I can’t believe I fell for him. Over and over again…

“Okay, sweetheart, it’s all done.” Nurse Joan told me as she capped the vial of my blood. “I’m going to go ruin these through a test and I’ll be right back.” She informed us before walking back out of the room with my bodily fluids.

“Now that wasn’t so bad.” Vanessa tried to cheer me up.

“Yeah…” I trailed off in agreement. “I wonder what she’s testing for.”

“Maybe to see if you have some disease.” She shrugged. “Or if you’re pregnant.” She wiggled her eyebrows in a joking manner.

But suddenly with that one word my mind went into overdrive. I was trying to recall that night, that one night that was so special to me. “I mean, when we… he did… and I was on the pill for a few weeks.” I tried to put two and two together, but it just wasn’t coming out.

Vanessa’s loud obnoxious voice turned low and scared, “It takes at least three months for it to regulate your body, hon.” She informed me sadly. This can’t be happening. I’m dreaming, that’s it. This is just a dream. I must be dreaming, and none of this has happened. I’m still in Tempe…with John’s arms wrapped around me…

I was lying back on the bed by now; my eyes were closed tight, wishing this was all just a dream. “I can’t be.” I choked out. “I just can’t be pregnant.” My eyes opened and I was starting to sit back up. “We broke up, we’re done. He cheated on me two weeks after our first time.” Tears started to build themselves in my ducts. “I just can’t be.” I choked out again.

“Natalie, don’t jump to conclusions.” Vanessa told me, coming over to soothingly rub my back. “You could just have some weird stomach virus.” She told me. “Or puking could just be your way of dealing with depression.” She added. “Which in that case, means you need to see a shrink.” She joked and I tried to get a smirk to form, but it just wasn’t working.

After spending what seemed like forever to calm me down, Vanessa succeeded, just to see her accomplishment fail when Nurse Joan walked back in with solemn look on her face.