'Cause the Hardest Part of This is Leaving You.

Mom takes my hand. " Give me the pain. " she says.

I'm lying on the edge of a hospital bed, in a knee-chest position with my head on a pillow. My spine is parallel to the side of the bed.
There are two doctors and a nurse in the room, although I can't see them because they're behind me. one of the doctors is a student. She doesn't say much, but i guess she's watching as the other one finds the right place on my spine and marks the spot with a pen. He prepares my skin with antiseptic solution. It's very cold. He starts at the place where he's going to put the needle in and works outwards in centric circles, then he drapes towels across my back and put's sterile gloves on.

" I'll be using a twenty-five-gauge needle, " he tells the student " And a five-millimeter syringe. "
On the wall behind Mom shoulder is a painting. They change the paintings in the hospital a lot, and I've never seen this one before. I've learned all sorts of distraction techniques in the past four years. In the painting, it's late afternoon in some small field and the sun is low on the sky. A man struggles with the weight of a plough. Mom turns in her plastic chair to see what I'm looking at, let's go of my hand and inspects the picture.

" Brief stinging sensation coming up. " The doctor says.
Mom sits down and scoops up my hand. She strokes it with her thumb as waves of static push into my bones.

" Squeeze my hand Gerard, " Mom says

" I don't want to hurt you. "

" Ugh. I was in Labor with you for fourteen hours! There's no way you're going to hurt me, Gerard."

It's like electricity, as if my spine hot jammed in a toaster and the doctor's are scraping it out with a blunt butter knife.

" What do you think Dad's doing today? " I ask. My voice sounds different. Held in. Tight.

" No idea. "

" I asked him to come today. "

" Did you? " Mom sounds surprised.

" I thought you could hang out in the cafe area together after-wards. "

She frowns. " That's a strange thing to think. "

I close my eyes and imagine I'm a tree drenched in sunlight, that i have a desire to be rained on. I think of silver water splashing my leaves, soaking up my roots, traveling up my veins.
The doctor reels off statistics to the student.

He says, " Approximately one in a thousand people who have this test suffer some minor nerve injury. There's also a slight risk of infection, bleeding, or damage to the cartilage "

Then he pulls out the needle. " Good boy, All done. " He finishes off.

I expect him to smack me on my rump, as if I'm and obedient horse. Instead he waves three sterile tubes at me. " Off to the lab with these. " He doesn't even say goodbye, just slides quietly out of the room, student in tow. It's as if he's suddenly embarrassed that any of this intimacy happened between us. But the nurse is lovely. She talks to us as she dresses my back with gauze, then comes to the side of the bed and smiles at me.

" You need to lie still for a while now, sweetheart. "

" I know. "

" Been here before, eh? " She turns to Mom. " What are you going to do with yourself? "

" I'll sit here and read a book. "

She nods. " I'm right outside. You know what to look for when you get home? "

She reels it off like a professional. " Chill, fever, stiff neck or headache. Drainage or bleeding, any numbness or loss of strength below the puncture site. "

The nurse is impressed. " You're good! "

When she goes out, Mom smiles at me. " Well done, Gerard. All over now, eh? "

" Unless the lab results are bad. "

" They won't be. "

" I'll be back to having lumbar punctures every week. "

" Shush! try to sleep now, baby. It'll make time go more faster. "

She picks up her book and goes back to reading.
I can hear my own blood coursing, like hooves pounding the street. Pinpricks of light like fireflies bat against my eyelids. I hate to give into it, but now is an exception.