Monday, November 09, 2009

Cuento de Mi Id

“Eating Disorders”

“Dammit,” Callie said. “I keep buzzing and buzzing and no one ever comes.”

“They never come,” said Debbie from the next bed over. “Not when you want them to. I should know. I’ve been in this hospital for a long, long time and they never come when I push that buzzer.”

“But this is a hospital,” said Callie. “They’re supposed to come when they hear the buzzer. Suppose someone is having a heart attack or something?”

“They wouldn’t care,” said Debbie. “They’re a pretty heartless bunch around here.”

“I don’t believe that, “ said Callie. “The nurse who attended me in the room I was in last night seemed pretty nice.”

Debbie showed her a closed-lip smile. “Take it from me. The nice ones never stay here long. It’s only the nasty evil ones who hang around here in the long run. So what are you in for?”

“An eating disorder. And you?”

“I guess you might say I have a slight drinking problem.”

“And they put you in the hospital for that?”

“Well, I do tend to go over my limit…”

“But still...Aren’t there private clinics and stuff like that for that?”

“Not for what I’ve got,” Debbie said. “The doctors say I‘m quite an unique case.”

“Well, I’m getting hungry.”

“I thought you had an eating disorder.”

“Well, I do. But if I don’t eat on a regular basis, well, it gets worse.”

“I know the feeling.”

“For years they’ve been telling me to eat more, eat more. Now I’m finally at the point that I’m willing to eat more and now they’re starving me to death.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” said Debbie. “You won’t starve to death. I won’t allow it.”

“You won’t allow it? Since when do you have any say-so?”

“Since my daddy owns this hospital. He’s quite a rich man. I’m sure the nurses will listen to me once I remind them of that. They’d be crazy not to.”

“Well, my father’s not a rich man.”

“I know.”

“You know? How do you know?”

“They showed me your medical records just before they brought you up here.”

“They showed you my medical records?”

“Is there an echo in here?”

“But how? Isn’t that illegal?”

“Sure, it’s illegal. But then a lot of things that go on around here are illegal. Your suicide attempt, for example.”

“That was quite a few days ago.”

“And the scars still haven’t healed, have they?”

“Well, no…”

“And you haven’t heard from your parents yet, right?”

“Well, I have been wondering about that…”

“That’s because they think you’re dead.”

“They think I’m what?”

“There goes that echo again.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m quite serious,” Debbie said.

“You must be joking,” Callie said. “So why were you looking at my medical records?”

“The same reason I glance through everybody’s medical records.”

“And what reason is that?”

“The same reason you keep glancing at that dinner menu they gave you earlier.”

At that point, Debbie reached up and unhooked her IV with the greatest of ease.

“Wait a second. You’re not really sick.”

“I never said I was.”

“But you said. . .”

“My daddy owns this hospital. I have privileges here you can’t even imagine...Besides, I really did tell the truth before.”

“About what?”

At that point, Debbie stood up and bared her teeth. Two of them were pointed. Very pointed.

“I really do have a drinking problem,” she said.

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1 Comments:

Blogger Kathleen Fuller, Ph.D. said...

The makings of a novel- I believe. Keep writing. Check out my site at http://www.notyourmothersdiet.com and read some of my articles. You might enjoy them too.

1:50 PM  

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