by Misty Boyd
“No, this is fine. We can share. You don’t look like you have cooties. Do you?” She peered up at him as if she were trying to determine if he was being truthful.
“Nah! Got my shot in first grade. I’m covered!”
“Good!” Carissa said with fake relief. “Then we can share.”
“All right then. One large popcorn, and one large cola, please.”
The snack attendant readied their order, and Isaac took both items, knowing from experience with his mother the struggle it was to push a wheelchair and hold things.
They went to find seats in the theater. Luckily, there were open spots in the handicapped section in the back. That wasn’t always the case when Carissa went to see a movie. Sometimes she had to ask an able-bodied person to move so she could sit with her friends. They slid into the comfortable seats just in time for the lights to go dim and the previews to start.
Isaac wondered if it was too early to try to hold her hand, then he decided he didn’t care. He was going for it. He reached out, gently put his hand on top of hers, but felt a bit of rejection when she pulled away.
“I’m sorry. I just… I rolled through something gross on the way in. My hand is sticky. I didn’t want you to touch it. I think it’s soda. I hope it’s soda,” she explained, embarrassed.
“We can take care of that. I thought you were rethinking the cooties thing!” He quickly grabbed the soda and a napkin, wiped some of the condensation onto the napkin, and took her hand in his to clean it off. When he was done, he kept her hand.
They sat through the entire movie like that, neither of them letting go of the other’s hand. Passing the soda and popcorn around was a challenge, but they figured it out.
“Hey,” Carissa nudged Isaac to get his attention. “I have to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” he said, letting go of her hand and taking the popcorn from her lap.
She wheeled off, struggling to get the door to the theater open. Those things were always so heavy. She managed, being her stubborn, independent self, but admitted that maybe she should have asked for help.
She found the bathroom at the opposite end of the theater from where their movie played and went in. Inside, she found a familiar scene. All the stalls were unoccupied except the one reserved for wheelchair users. She tried to push into one of the regular stalls, thinking if she was careful she might be able to transfer to the toilet without the handrails that were standard in the stall built for people like her. No such luck though. Her wheelchair wouldn’t fit and she had to wait. She sat, less than patient, with a full bladder. It seemed like she was there forever when her phone buzzed. It was Isaac texting.
“Are you okay? Did you find the bathroom okay?”
“Yes,” she texted back.
“Are you sick? You’ve been gone a while. Chewy is about to start some mess in here! Might want to hurry back.”
Carissa giggled to herself. “I’m okay. Someone is in the wheelchair-accessible stall. I can’t fit in the other ones. I have to wait.”
“Ah. Gotcha. I’m sorry.”
When the woman came out of the only stall Carissa could use, things were just as Carissa thought they might be. No wheelchair. No visible disability to speak of.
The woman looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I like to use this one because it’s the last one. I figure it’s cleaner because no one wants to walk down to it when all the others are available,” she said, hanging her head and walking to the sinks.
“It’s the only one I can use,” Carissa said, hurrying to open the stall and get inside before her bladder erupted.
The woman finished washing and drying her hands without responding. Carissa finished her business and hurried to get back to Isaac and the movie.
When the movie was over, Isaac put Carissa’s wheelchair in the back of his car, and they headed back to her place. He glanced over at her and took in how pretty she was, and how lucky for him that she was sitting here next to him. Should he kiss her when they got there? He wasn’t sure. He’d told her dad he’d be respectful, but he didn’t want to leave any doubt in Carissa’s mind that he had had a good time with her. He wanted to do this again, and he wanted her to know that.
“Carissa, I had a good time tonight. All of it. Even being grilled by your dad was fun in its own way,” he told her, trying to keep his eyes on the road, but stealing glances at her.
“Really? You enjoyed that assault, huh?” She looked over at him, a smile on her face.
“Hey, if my daughter was as pretty as you are, I’d be giving it to every guy who dared to look at her. I understand why he was like that.” He took the right turn that led to her street.
“Did you really mean what you said about not dating for temporary?” She looked at the floorboard of the car, not wanting to make eye contact.
“I did. I don’t date to mess with girls. This is not a game for me. I’m serious about you.” He grabbed her face in his hand as he said it, gently pulling her up to look at him.
They pulled into the driveway. Isaac hopped out to get her chair out of the back and brought it over to her side of the car.
After she moved over to the chair, he asked, “Can I walk you up?”
“Sure,” Carissa replied.
And so he did. He took the longest walk of his life up that driveway, contemplating whether or not to kiss her. When they got to the front door, he still hadn’t decided.
“Look, Carissa,” he said, “I had a really good time tonight, and I want to do it again.” He paused for a moment, just gazing down at her seriously. “I want you to know that. And I also want you to know something else. I told your dad I’d be respectful, and I will be, but I want to kiss you goodnight, and I’d really like it if you’d let me.”
She contemplated his solemn face for a second, then laughed. “You can kiss me,” she responded, and Isaac knelt in front of her chair, put his hand gently on her face, and sweetly kissed her lips.
“Respect. I told your daddy I would respect you and, if I don’t stop now, I might cross a line I don’t mean to.” He stood, then moved with her up to the door. “Let’s go in.”
Carissa smiled, opened the door, and found her parents waiting up in the living room.
“We’re back!” she said.
Jim walked over to stand next to Carissa. “Did you guys have a good time?”
“Yes, sir,” Isaac replied, “and she’s home in one piece, just as you asked.”
“Thank you, Isaac. I might even let you take my girl out again, if she’ll allow it.”
“I’d like that, sir.” He shook Jim’s hand, and gave a little bow to Sarah, who smiled up at him from the sofa.
“Goodnight, Carissa. Call me after your pre-op.” And with that, he was out the door.
Chapter 22
The weekend flew by, probably because Carissa was dreading Monday so much. Now it was Sunday night. Her phone rang.
“Hello?” she answered.
“Hey, Carissa,” Isaac said. “I was just calling to let you know what a great time I had on Friday, both with your parents and with you at dinner and the movie. I really enjoyed it. I hope we can do it again.”
“Sure, we can. I had a good time, too,” Carissa told him. “I just don’t know how this surgery is going to go, so I don’t know when I’ll be up for it again.”
“I’ll wait.” He sounded cheerful and positive. “And, in the meantime, I know where you live. I’ll come plop on the couch with you and give you painkillers and soup. That sound good?”
“Sounds perfect.” She smiled, wondering how she’d managed to find this one.
“So how are you feeling about pre-op?” he asked. “Nervous?”
“Yeah, a little.” That wasn’t quite the truth; she was more than a little anxious. “They usually schedule surgery pretty soon after pre-op, so I assume I don’t have much time after tomorrow. There’ll be blood work, and discussions about past surgeries, then they’ll give me a date, probably t
his week. So, yeah, I’m nervous.”
“Yeah, I would be too,” he empathized. “Please let me know if I can do anything. I’m still taking care of my mom until the agency can get a decent nurse over here, but I can get away if you need me.”
“Thanks, Isaac. I appreciate that. It means a lot.” She meant every word of it. It was great to have someone she could count on.
“It’s what you do when you care about someone.”
“I care about you, too, Isaac,” she told him. “I’ll call you tomorrow after the appointment and let you know what’s going on.”
“Sounds good. Goodnight.”
They hung up, and Carissa tried to put off falling asleep as long as possible, hoping staring at the clock would give her more time before the appointment. Before she knew it, though, she was awakened by the sun shining through her window. She shoved back her blanket.
Monday was here, and so was pre-op. Maybe she could just lie in bed all day and her parents would forget. A girl could hope.
“Honey, are you up? Mom made pancakes for your big day,” Jim called from the hallway.
Or she could just get out of bed and face the day, because obviously no one else was forgetting.
She rolled over as she moaned, “Coming, Dad!” Or some half-words resembling that.
In the kitchen, she found Mom standing over a pan with a pancake in it. Beside her was a giant plate filled with bacon. Well, if she had to do pre-op, this was certainly the way to start. She wheeled herself over and stole a piece of bacon off the plate.
“I’m only letting you get away with that because today is what it is,” Sarah said, still facing the stove.
Eyes in the back of her head, as usual, thought Carissa.
“Busted!” Dad laughed from the table.
Carissa munched her bacon, then went back toward the table. Soon, Sarah flopped a big, fluffy pancake onto her plate.
“Syrup is here, butter is there.” Sarah pointed out the condiments. “You both already found the bacon. Have at it, guys! I’ve been sneaking bacon while I cooked, so I’m going to get a shower before we go. Eat up! It’s going to be a long day.”
Carissa and her dad hardly spoke a word as they shoveled mouthfuls of bacon and pancake into their mouths. Her mom sure knew how to quiet a crowd.
About the time they finished, Sarah came out of the bedroom looking ready for a long day at the hospital, flannel pajama pants and a big t-shirt. She knew from experience that comfort was first and foremost when you were stuck waiting around for doctors.
Carissa took her plate to the sink and went off to get a shower herself. She assumed her dad did the same. She wondered if taking the world’s slowest shower might put off the appointment a little longer. Probably not, but a small part of her wasn’t above giving it a try. The adult, responsible part of her won out, though, and she finished her shower in a reasonable time, just so she could get all of this over with. She got dressed in her own variation of what her mom was wearing, a Winnie the Pooh two piece pajama set, and went out to meet her doom.
Sarah and Jim were waiting for her when she reached the living room.
“Okay, let’s do this!” she said, trying to feel the enthusiasm she’d forced into her voice. She couldn’t convince herself, though. This plain sucked. There was no faking it.
“All right, everybody in the car,” Jim said.
The drive to the hospital was quiet. No one seemed to want to talk. Carissa didn’t mind. She was in her own head. Her thoughts kept switching from surgery to the possibility of movies on the couch with Isaac. The couch dates almost made the surgery seem worth it. Almost. “God, just take care of me through this. I know You will,” she prayed to herself.
Chapter 23
Carissa’s phone buzzed in her pocket. Who would be calling this early? It was barely 7 a.m.! She glanced at the display on her phone. Isaac.
“Hello, Isaac,” she said.
His cheerful voice made her smile. “Hey, I just wanted to let you know I’m thinking about you. I couldn’t stop, so I decided to call and make sure you’re okay. I hope that’s not weird.”
“It’s not weird,” she told him. “We’re on our way to the hospital. I’m doing okay, just nervous, but today is blood draws and history. No cutting yet. I’m all right.”
“Good,” he said. “Well, I have to get my mom ready for her nurse to come. We finally got a new one, so Mom and I will be showing her around, then I’m headed off to class. I’ll talk to you after your appointment. Call me.”
“Okay,” she replied. “Bye, Isaac.”
“Bye, Isaac,” Dad said loudly from the front seat.
“Bye, Mr. Schultz,” Isaac replied, giggling.
“He says bye, Dad.”
* * *
The hospital parking lot was crowded, but they managed to find the one handicapped parking spot available. Jim edged the car carefully into the space, then got Carissa’s chair and brought it around to her door. She maneuvered into the seat and he pushed her across to the hospital, Sarah following.
Inside, Carissa checked in at the desk and they found a spot for all three of them to sit together in the waiting room.
Carissa kept switching between calm and mini-panic attack. That was all normal. It was what she did before pre-op appointments, ever since she was a little girl.
Jim went to get a drink from the vending machine. Sarah sat beside Carissa’s chair, tapping her toes on the floor.
“Show off,” Carissa joked. Being paralyzed, she couldn’t tap her toes on the floor to get rid of anxiety. Fingers, maybe, but not toes.
Her mother laughed quietly. “Kiddo, only you could still be making jokes at a time like this.”
Carissa shrugged. “It’s how I deal.”
“Well, you deal well.” Sarah put her arm around Carissa’s shoulder, giving her a hug.
Jim walked back around the corner about the same time the nurse opened the door and called out Carissa’s name. They headed toward the exam rooms.
“Here we go!” Carissa thought.
The pre-op interview went as expected. All three of them were ushered into a small room with an exam table against one wall, a desk against the opposite wall, and two chairs against a third wall. A fake plant sat in the corner next to the desk. A very sweet nurse, with her long brown hair rolled up in a bun and wearing pink scrubs, came in with a long line of questioning for Carissa, including her medication list, her medical history, whether she drank or smoked, her sexual history and whether she was active now. Whether there was any chance she could be pregnant. She resisted the urge to throw in a Virgin Mary joke.
All of it was the same as every other time. Carissa was fairly innocent. She didn’t need alcohol or drugs. Spina bifida and all the drugs that came with it were enough to keep her uninterested in the drugs and alcohol other kids her age were into. She wasn’t into sex. She had promised herself she would wait until marriage. So the interview was pretty boring. The blood tests all came back normal. All that was left was to schedule.
“How’s this Friday for you guys?” the nurse asked. “Dr. Brock wanted to get you in as soon as possible to see if he could reverse some of this damage and prevent more. Does that work for you all?”
“Yeah, that’ll work,” Jim said. He was the only one who might have to get out of work, so it was up to him. Carissa didn’t have school anymore, and Sarah stayed home. They scheduled the surgery for that Friday.
“Okay,” the nurse told Carissa. “No food after midnight the day before. No breakfast the day of. You can take any meds with a small amount of water the morning of. Just sips, though. Arrive clean. Wash the incision area with anti-bacterial soap and water. Prepare to stay at least three days, probably a week. Bring a list of your medications with you. Arrive at the hospital at 6 a.m. that day. All of this and anything else the doctor wants you to know is here.” The nurse handed Carissa a piece of paper with instructions on it.
She’d seen the paper before. This wasn’t new,
but she read it again, just in case something had changed or she had forgotten something. “Got it!” she said.
“You guys can check out at the front.” The nurse got up to usher them out. “We’ll see you bright and early on Friday!”
Carissa groaned to herself as she and her parents left the small exam room.
When they got home, Carissa pondered whether or not she was ready to call Isaac with the surgery date. It was so soon. She had half-expected that, and half-hoped they could put it off some. She just wasn’t ready for this. And she wasn’t sure she was ready to tell Isaac. She would wait until she thought she could do it without getting too emotional. It was too early in their relationship for her to get all teary on him, wasn’t it? She wasn’t sure. But she wasn’t ready to talk.
As if she’d picked up on Carissa’s thoughts, Sarah spoke. “Honey, if you want to invite Isaac over for dinner, you can. I’m making turkey burgers,” she said, breaking Carissa’s train of thought.
Carissa shook her head. “Nah. I’m not sure I’m in the mood for company today. Maybe some other time.”
“Okay.” Sarah leaned down and kissed Carissa’s cheek softly, giving her a hug for courage. “If you change your mind, it’s not that big a deal to throw another burger on. Let me know. And I’m here if you want to talk. This will all be okay. It’ll be over soon, and you’ll be recovering. You and Isaac can have popcorn parties on the couch.”
“Okay, Mom. I think I’m just going to go to my room for a bit.”
Sarah gave Carissa a gentle smile. “That’s fine, honey. Call if you need anything.”
Carissa went to her room, and shut the door behind her. Then she cried.
* * *
Once Carissa was in her room, Sarah turned to her husband. “I’m worried about her, Jim.”
“I know, but it’s just part of her process,” Jim comforted her. “You know that. She needs today to accept what’s coming. Tomorrow, she’ll be back in the fight. She always jumps back in the fight. She just needs her time.”
