Hospital Beds and Memories

Over time my cold had gotten worse. I was coughing like mad, ruining my lungs and wracking my throat. The continuous headache pounding inside my head wanted to make me scream. I hated being sick. With my immune system being down this was the worst cold I had even had! My breathing was always messing up, causing me to be wheezy and make it impossible for me to talk for extended periods of time or catch my breath after walking up the stairs. My stamina had already gotten so bad from the leukemia, you could probably imagine what a mess I was now.

It obviously sucked. I only got to see Jack through a screen and it was really starting to hit me. He wasn’t going to be physically present for another couple of months. Yes, I know, I called Jack out for being clingy in the beginning, but it was really hard. In the time he was going to be gone, the bed would always continue to feel cold, there would be nobody to annoy me with constant cuddles, and we couldn’t just enjoy each other’s presence without talking. I really thought I wasn’t going to make it, especially with how I was feeling. All I wanted was to be able to lay in bed with Jack for an entire day.

But that wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

I rubbed my crusty eyes as I threw the covers off myself. Instead of having Joyce wake me up every single day, I decided to cut her some slack and turn an alarm on for myself. It was the worst way to wake up, but I really felt bad for asking so much from her. She was already so kind to stay with me while Jack was gone, I didn’t want her to have to do too much. But I could still definitely agree it was so much nicer to be slowly woken up by a person rather than have some loud noise scare the living bejeezus out of you.

Oh yeah, and today was the first day I put it on. After staring at the closet for a while contemplating what I could wear that made me feel comfortable, I took out the hoodie Jack had left for me. Every single day I had thought of wearing it, but always reasoned with myself, knowing that there would be a day I needed the sweater much more. And today just so happened to be that day. It might sound cheesy, but the feeling of the clothing article hugging my body loosely made me feel a bit better already. The smell it gave off made me relax immediately, my body being tricked into believing that Jack was close by, while he was actually somewhere on the opposite end of the country.

I never thought I’d be that girl. You know, the one who was dependent on their boyfriend. However, it had happened. Jack had converted me. There was no way out now. I just had this horrible feeling that I couldn’t place. It might have been me just being sick, but it just felt slightly different than that. Something was causing me to feel queasy, but nothing would tell me what.

Taco came walking into the room, jumping onto the bed to catch my attention. I turned to her and went to stroke her when she decided to sit on Jack’s side of the bed. With the way she had been acting, I could tell she was confused about Jack not being here. She was fine the first couple days he was gone, but we were already just past the two week mark. I wanted to make a sappy comment to Taco, asking her if she also missed Jack, but nothing came out of my mouth. My voice was completely gone. No matter how much I tried to clear it, it continued to stay in the same state.

I mentally let out a groan and decided to just go downstairs, there was no way I was going to make myself look any better than this. It was only Jack’s mom anyway. Or so I thought. When I got downstairs, there was somebody else in the kitchen.

I did not know that anybody would be coming over today. Ok, well, they would just have to deal with how sick I looked. I didn’t feel like slapping on any makeup, and it wasn’t like that was going to make me look much better than the dump I looked like right now. But still, another person in the house really confused me. Luckily, Joyce came in, ready to save the day by introducing the girl making some coffee.

“Ireland,” she started off, catching the attention of the stranger, “this is Jack’s sister, May. May, this is Jack’s girlfriend, Ireland.”

“Nice to finally meet you!” May commented in a cheerful voice, going to shake my hand while trying to figure out how the coffee machine worked.

Automatically, I started signing out something similar, only to stop myself after the second word, noticing that nobody here knew sign language. Well, this was awkward. It probably seemed like I was mute, but this was what I always did when I lost my voice. I let out a small breath instead of a chuckle and pointed towards my throat as if they would be able to get what I was trying to tell them. Not being able to communicate any further, I quickly found a piece of paper and a pen, writing down that I had lost my voice and that it was nice to meet her as well.

Well, isn’t that a great way to meet your boyfriend’s family for the first time? You know, without them around and basically not being able to talk or communicate at all. I was really getting great at having awkward meetings.

----

We all went out to go have a late brunch at some cafe that still served breakfast in the afternoon. To be honest, though, I really didn’t feel like eating anything. My energy was already completely drained and I really didn’t have an appetite. Food just didn’t seem to work the last couple of days. Normally, I would eat more when I got sick, but this time it was completely different.

While Joyce and May were talking, catching up on any missed stories and gossip, I just sat with my head in my hands. Not being able to speak was a good excuse for not talking at all. Even if I had been able to make a sound, I still wouldn’t have wanted to make conversation with anybody. No, it wasn’t because I didn’t like May, because she really seemed like one of the sweetest people around, but I just wasn’t up for it. I just wasn’t motivated to do anything anymore. All I wanted was to crawl back in bed and hope to fall asleep quickly. I really needed sleep.

I only looked up when something was placed in front of me. It was a phone trying to call someone, or more specifically FaceTime Jack. I gave May a confused look, not understanding why she was doing that (I couldn’t even talk to the guy, for godsake!), but Jack had already answered the call with eyes that were just as befuddled as mine, wondering why his sister was calling him.

But then he saw me. His eyes lit up, but disarray still evident in them, “Isle, why are you using May’s phone?”

I just decided to sign it to him, hoping he would understand some of it: ‘she just gave it to me’.

I could see Jack trying to decipher what I had just tried telling him. If I had recalled correctly, I knew he had learnt some sign language, but I might have been using words he didn’t know, or I was going way too fast. It was like talking to someone who had just started learning how to speak a language you are fluent in. No, wait, it was exactly that.

“May, what did you do to my girlfriend!” Jack exclaimed, searching the screen to see if she was nearby or even in frame already.

“Well, she isn’t feeling well and she lost her voice,” May popped in from the side, addressing his brother with a look I didn’t understand, “and we’re having a super late breakfast, and I think she might need some help choosing something.”

“Blueberry muffin, definitely a blueberry muffin, she likes blueberry muffins, get her a blueberry muffin,” he nodded, repeating himself over and over again. Being around him for so long, I barely realised it anymore, but he would often do stuff like that. You could see it pretty clearly in the interviews he sometimes made me watch.

I didn’t have the heart to tell him I didn’t feel like eating anything, so I just smiled softly. He seemed so set on me having a blueberry muffin, I didn’t want to suddenly tell him I would rather not eat anything at all. When he was still here, he would always force me to eat at least a couple of bites against my will. Maybe I could deal with a couple of crumbs and then take it home for later… if there ever was a later.

“Hey, you’re wearing the sweater!” Jack noticed, pointing at something where it was probably located on his own screen.

I nodded and quickly signed ‘first time’.

“What! No way!” he gasped with his eyes widening, “I thought you’d be wearing it every single day. I was expecting to come home to a worn out hoodie, but at this rate that’s not going to happen.”

‘Special’ I quickly motioned with my hands, thinking it would be a word he might know. Apparently he did, because he made no more comments other than giving me a sympathetic smile. Usually, I would hate people feeling sympathy for me, because I knew they were just saying it because they felt obliged to, but I knew that Jack was one of the few people that actually meant it when it involved me.

“Wait, since when do you know sign language?” May interrupted when there was only silence left between Jack and I. I thought Jack would have shown off the new skill he was developing, but his sister’s question proved otherwise.

“Since Isle’s brother told me that that’s the way she communicates when she’s unable to talk,” Jack explained like it was the most obvious and easiest thing ever, “I’m not that good though and only know the basics and important sentences. Isle’s really good though, she’s been doing it since she was six!”

“Wow,” she nodded at both of us, pretty impressed that I was fluent and that I had gotten to make Jack start it as well.

And then another coughing fit started, hurting my lungs badly. It seemed like I couldn’t breath anymore, which was basically true, but there wasn't anything I could do about it. I just hoped not too many people were looking at me. It wasn’t the best sight to see somebody turning red from the lack of oxygen and disrupting any conversation going on in the restaurant by their loud coughing.

----

Jack had to leave soon after my small episode and I was left to nip at the muffin he made me get. I still didn’t eat much at all, only having eaten the the very top layer to take off the part that had been baked a golden brown. That was already too much for me. Losing weight was the last thing I wanted to happen, but I really couldn’t help it. My weight was dropping rapidly and I was afraid it was going to get serious soon, but I just couldn’t eat. I absolutely hated it.

My bones were starting to protrude out, making me look like a skeleton trying to eat its way out of a body. What once used to be bright brown eyes were now hidden by dark bags and a sunken face. Shirts that I used to love and fit me perfectly were becoming baggy, only adding to my insecurity. I never really cared what people thought about me, but this also went too far for me. I just didn’t look good anymore.

But while all these thoughts were going through my head, I still had Jack there somewhere for me. Maybe he wasn’t actually present and next to me, but he still made sure to make me feel better. Once back at home, I retreated straight to my bed, opening my laptop to try to talk to Jack again (when I say try to talk, I literally mean try. My voice was there, but only very quiet). He answered in no time, having just finished his soundcheck and actually wanting to call me at the same exact time.

I, however, was first.

He already had a couple of stories to tell and had a couple more encouraging words for me. Once in awhile, he would stop talking just to tell me how much he loved me. I would have thought it was weird, if it weren’t for me actually really needing it. I didn’t love myself anymore, so it was nice to know somebody else still did. Maybe it would change when he saw how bad I was doing, but for now it was only helping me.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” I croaked out, my throat already tolerating a slightly louder level but still not liking it very much, “talk to your mom, who just came in, while I’m doing that.”

I smiled at Joyce who had just entered the bedroom, while I went to the ensuite bathroom. After doing what I had to, I went to wash my hands, only to catch my reflection in the mirror. It all seemed so surreal. Was I really the fragile-looking person shown? Was that really me? It just didn’t make sense. Everything seemed like a perfect copy, yet I felt more like and image than an actual person. I didn’t even know where I was anymore. Well, I knew I was in the bathroom, but where exactly where we? Don’t you just ever wonder that? Where in the universe were we placed at a given moment? We would never ever find out.

As I brought a hand to my mouth, so did the person in the reflection. I coughed, and so did they. When I looked down and saw blood, the fake me also did.

Wait, hang on. Blood. There was blood in my hand! What the actual fuck was going on! I coughed another time. More blood in my hand. My heart started beating irregularly, my breathing once again becoming very difficult. However, I wasn’t panicking as much as I was supposed to. All the signs were confusing, yet I just stood there.

And then I got dizzy. I tried to grab the counter for support, but missed completely, causing my body to fall to the floor, my head hollowly banging against the tiles. No pain. I continued to cough, adding to the blood, but I couldn’t seem to stop. It just kept going on as I started seeing weird black spots and squiggles in my vision.

The bathroom door slammed open and I could hear my name being called, but I couldn’t answer. There was another shout, “May, call 911!”