Natsinet came back into the room with a syringe and Adelle’s eyes widened as the nurse grabbed her left arm, jerked it out straight and jabbed the needle into the vein on the inside of her elbow in one swift move.
“Naaaaa! Naaarrrgh!” Adelle tried to grab the woman’s wrist with her good hand but it too felt weak and helpless. She tried to swing her fist at her and received a hard smack across the face for her efforts that made her vision cloud and her pulse race dangerously high. She was suddenly afraid of having another stroke.
The nurse swatted Adelle’s hand away and pushed the plunger down on the syringe. Moments later Adelle felt a warmth spreading up her arm, then she began to feel dizzy. She pulled the straightened bobby pin out of her hair and jabbed it at Natsinet but the woman was no longer sitting on her bed and the pin stabbed into thin air then tumbled from her fingers onto the floor. There was a satisfied look on the nurse’s face that convinced Adelle that she would probably not be waking up. She said a silent prayer for her daughter as she drifted away. And a wish that Natsinet would be made to pay for her death.
* * *
Sunlight pierced between the blinds on the windows, illuminating the bits of dust in the air, making them look almost beautiful. Adelle could tell by the angle the sun struck her windowsill that it was past eight o’clock in the morning. She normally woke up no later than six am. She’d overslept.
Adelle tried to rise and was momentarily confused when her left arm refused to cooperate; it felt as if it weren’t even attached to her, as if she’d fallen asleep on it and squashed all the blood out of it. Only there wasn’t that pins and needles sensation she normally got when she slept wrong, this was just numbness and weakness as if there were no strength at all in her muscles. She tried to push herself up with her right arm and pain shot through her shoulder, collapsing her back down to the bed.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Then she slowly remembered where she was, what had happened to her. The hospital, the ambulance, and then waking up with that psychotic nurse. Her cheek hurt where the nurse had struck her and her right shoulder cried out in pain. She was in danger. More danger than she had ever been in on the streets, or even back during the civil rights marches confronting police officers with attack dogs, clubs, and guns. This woman was in her own home and for the first time in her life, Adelle was practically helpless. There was nowhere for her to go, nothing she could do.
At least I’m still alive.
When the nurse injected her last night Adelle had been sure she’d been poisoned.
She looked over on the nightstand and instinctively reached for the phone to call her daughter. The phone was gone. Ripped out of the wall. Adelle vaguely remembered the nurse throwing the phone across the room last night in her rage. It would be no use to her anyway. Her tongue still lolled uselessly in her mouth and her jaw on the left side hung down, the muscles unresponsive. She wasn’t sure how she’d even manage to chew her food without it spilling out of her mouth, let alone tell anyone what was going on, even if she had a phone.
Natsinet bounded into the room bubbling with enthusiasm as she brought Adelle her breakfast. “Good morning, Mrs. Smith. How are we this morning?”
Adelle’s eyes narrowed in suspicion as she looked from Natsinet to the plate of warm oatmeal she held. The Nurse’s demeanor had completely changed. The woman she met yesterday had been sullen and dangerous like a viper coiled and waiting to strike. There’d been no warmth in her at all. Seeing the woman flitting about opening the drapes and smiling ear to ear was disconcerting. It made Adelle even more convinced that the woman was crazy.
“I know I came down a bit hard on you yesterday and I apologize. It seems I’m going to be with you for quite a while. The doctor says that it could be six weeks, six months, or even six years before you regain your strength. Something else my agency forgot to tell me about, like the fact that your speech was impaired and that you were more than just slightly paralyzed on your left side. They said you can use a walker to get around. Can you?’
Adelle shook her head slowly, still staring at the woman perplexed, trying to figure out if she was serious.
“That’s what I thought.”
Adelle noticed just the slightest glimmer of anger flash in the nurse’s eyes before she pulled her mask back into place.
“We might as well learn to get along, then. I’ll help you get back up on your feet, because the sooner I do that, the sooner I can get out of this hell-hole. You wanted physical therapy? Well, you’re going to get it. I warn you, though. I’m not going to take it easy on you. The doctor said that you’ll be able to walk using a walker in six to eight weeks with intensive physical therapy. He gave me a whole series of exercises he wants me to put you through three times a week, but I’m thinking more like twice a day. I don’t have time to waste while you lie around in bed all day. And I’m adding a few exercises of my own as well.”
Adelle didn’t like the sound of that at all. She motioned for a pen and paper. Natsinet reached into a drawer by the nightstand and handed them to her.
“When did the doctor come?” she wrote.
“While you were sleeping. I gave you a mild sedative after you passed out so that you could get a good rest, and then I called the doctor. I told him about how you’d fallen out of bed. That old bastard had the nerve to look at me like it was my fault. It isn’t my fault that you’re so clumsy. I know it isn’t your fault, either. You’re paralyzed. Not your fault, is it?”
Adelle shook her head.
“Or maybe it is. Maybe your stroke was the result of poor circulation, arteries clogged with fat from not exercising and eating fried chicken and pork. In which case your clumsiness is your fault, now isn’t it?”
Adelle shook her head vehemently and scribbled furiously in her pad. “Your fault! I didn’t fall. You pushed me! You hit me!!!”
Natsinet snatched the pad out of Adelle’s hand and tore it to shreds. Adelle winced, afraid the woman would strike her again.
“I told you not to spread lies! How are we going to get along if you keep lying like that?”
Adelle stared at the woman, trying to figure out if she was really crazy, if she really didn’t remember punching her in the face and yanking her out of her bed onto the floor. There was a smirk on the nurse’s face. That told Adelle all she needed to know. The woman wasn’t crazy, at least not that way. She remembered everything she’d done to her. She was just playing with her, enjoying the power she held over her, trying to mess with Adelle’s mind. No, not crazy. Evil.
Not evil either. Adelle reminded herself. People aren’t evil. They may be misguided, confused, hurting, mentally or emotionally impaired, but not evil. There’s a reason she’s doing this, a reason that makes sense only to her.
“Oh, your daughter stopped by also, but you were sleeping and I told her it was best not to disturb you. Too bad you missed her. She said she’ll be back to visit again this weekend. She’s got some big project she’s working on at her job. But she promised to call every day to check on your progress. I’ll make sure to keep her well informed.”
When the nurse smiled it looked to Adelle like one of those vampires in the horror movies baring her fangs. Natsinet dipped a spoon into the oatmeal and shoved it into Adelle’s mouth, pushing it all the way to the back of her mouth. The warm lump clogged her throat. Adelle almost suffocated as she tried to force her partially paralyzed mouth to chew before she gagged on the food. As soon as she swallowed and sucked in a big lungful of air another thick spoonful was jammed into her mouth.
Oh Jesus, give me strength. Help me, Lord.
Adelle gagged and choked several times as Natsinet continued to shovel the tasteless gruel into her mouth. When Adelle wretched and regurgitated most of what she had eaten, the nurse stormed angrily out of the room. It was several hours before she returned and by then the room smelled rancid, sickening sweet from the putrefying vomit.
“It smells like a pigsty in here!” Natsinet annou
nced, curling up her nose and covering it with her sleeve. “I guess I’d better clean you up a bit before we begin physical therapy.”
Natsinet grabbed the soiled sheets and jerked hard, dumping Adelle onto the floor again. Ignoring Adelle as the old woman rolled back and forth on the floor moaning in pain, Natsinet stripped the bed and left the room to toss the bedding into the washing machine down the hall.
Adelle tried to crawl. Her shoulder was screaming in pain but she ignored it. Her right leg felt strong but, with her left arm useless and her right shoulder injured, she couldn’t even manage to push herself up to all fours. She fell over onto her back, letting out another hoarse yelp as her head struck the thinly-carpeted floor. She’d never felt so helpless in her life. She began to weep silently, hating herself for it, feeling even more miserable and useless with each tear. When she looked up, Natsinet was standing in the doorway staring down at her.
“You’re pathetic. Is there any wonder why the White man has been kicking your people in the ass for the last four hundred years?”
There she goes with that “Your people” thing again. Distancing herself from me. Trying to dehumanize me. Marking me as something other than herself, something she won’t feel guilty about torturing or even killing.
“Well, let’s get you cleaned up.”
The nurse reached down and grabbed a handful of Adelle’s hair, which was still long and thick despite being almost completely grey. She began dragging Adelle across the room into the adjoining bathroom. Adelle had to use her right arm with the injured shoulder and her good leg to scramble as best she could to keep from getting her hair pulled out by the roots. Several times she fell flat onto her face. Blood trickled from her nostrils and she was panting heavily when she finally made it into the bathroom and Natsinet dumped her into the tub.
“Sorry about that, but your hair was the only thing on you that wasn’t filthy.”
Adelle had no more energy to fight back as she was manhandled out of her nightgown. When Natsinet turned the showerhead on full blast and the cold water struck her, Adelle’s breath once again caught in her throat. The nurse tossed her from one humiliating position to the next as she scrubbed her skin raw with a coarse brush like the kind Adelle’s mother had once scrubbed floors with in the White folk’s houses she cleaned for a living, using it even in areas so tender that they swelled and bled as the rough bristles scoured the delicate flesh and Adelle cried out in anguish. The water quickly went from cold to scalding hot and Natsinet made sure that she exposed every inch of Adelle’s skin to the searing spray.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, the water stopped. Adelle could sense Natsinet looking down at her. “There. All clean now. So, can you manage to crawl your lazy ass out of that tub and over to your bed or do I have to drag you again?”
The nurse was standing above her, tapping her orthopedic white shoes impatiently as Adelle pulled herself out of the tub and then inched across the floor on her belly using only one arm and leg to propel herself forward, adding rug burns to the abrasions caused by the scrub brush. By the time she’d made it back to the bed she was sure that she was going to have another stroke or a heart attack. She was also sure that this was exactly what Natsinet was hoping for. No one would question it if an old woman, who had already suffered a stroke, died of another. There would be no coroner’s inquest, no autopsy at all. Adelle closed her eyes and fought like hell to get her breathing and heart rate back under control. She refused to go out that easily.
“I don’t suppose you can make it back into your bed now, can you? That’s okay, we’ll work on that soon. Now go ahead and catch your breath. I’ll be right back.”
Natsinet left, once again leaving Adelle huddled on the floor in misery. This time Adelle had no strength within her to attempt any type of escape. She was so tired and sore. She just wanted to sleep. Her eyes closed and her head began to nod against her chest. She was fast asleep when the nurse returned.
“Wake up! Time for your physical therapy.”
Natsinet knelt down and gathered Adelle in her arms. Adelle’s mouth was inches from the nurse’s neck and she was calculating whether she had the strength to rip out the woman’s carotid artery with her jaw partially paralyzed. She doubted it. In all likelihood it would do nothing but earn her another beating, or worse. Natsinet tossed Adelle down roughly on the bed and eyed her suspiciously, as if she were somehow aware of what Adelle had been thinking.
Natsinet began with some light physiotherapy, lifting Adelle’s limbs and rotating the joints through their full range of motion. Taking her time, and with surprising patience, she guided each limb through several repetitive movements and stretches. She then asked Adelle to wiggle her fingers and toes while she pressed against them providing a counterforce to intensify each muscle contraction.
“These are the therapy techniques your doctor recommended. Conductive Education, a type of physiotherapy where we use repetitive movements to help reeducate your brain on how to use the muscles, hopefully creating new neuropathways in the brain to replace the ones blocked by the stroke. And Muscle Energy techniques utilizing a voluntary contraction of the patient’s muscles, like the one you use to wiggle your fingers and toes, against a controlled counterforce like the resistance of my hand on your fingers. These are all great techniques, and if they work you can expect to see results in as little as two weeks. They say that pretty much whatever movement you recover in the first thirty days is all you will ever recover. That’s why I’ve decided to try a new technique.”
Natsinet reached into her purse and pulled out a small black plastic box with prongs sticking out of the top of it. Adelle recognized it almost immediately. It was one of those stun guns they sold at Army surplus stores and gun shops for self-defense. She’d carried one herself once. Natsinet tapped the trigger on the side of the little box and an arc of electricity crackled between the prongs.
“It’s called electromyographic triggered Neuro-muscular Electrical Stimulation. It’s like Electro Convulsive therapy for the muscles. Usually it’s done with a Stem device and low grade electricity, not the 700,000 volts that this little thing is capable of. But I figure the more electricity the better and quicker the results.
“See, electromyographic signals are electrical impulses originating in the brain and transported via nerve cells to the muscles. These signals cause the muscles to contract. When you have a stroke, the parts of the brain that send and receive these signals no longer function properly, resulting in paralysis of the muscles. During Neuromuscular Electrical Stimulation, an electrical impulse is passed from a device such as this little stun gun placed on the skin over a targeted muscle or muscle group. The stimulation causes the muscles to contract. This type of stroke treatment is used to re-learn which part of the brain to activate and to re-develop spontaneous muscle control. It’s actually quite effective, though undoubtedly painful.”
Adelle shook her head, panicked at the idea of being shocked with a taser gun. Natsinet pressed the trigger on the stun gun again and the blue-white burst of electricity cracked between the electrodes, leaving a burning scent in the air. Adelle tried to scramble away. Adrenalin dumped into her bloodstream, giving her a momentary burst of energy that she quickly wasted trying to scamper away on her two good limbs, leaving her once again exhausted. The nurse smiled at her, watching Adelle’s pathetic attempt to save herself with perverse amusement.
“Now where do you think you’re going? Believe me, this is for your own good.”
Adelle was nearly blind with panic, heart thundering in her chest, short shallow breaths bursting from her lungs as she hyperventilated. She threw her good arm over her head to protect it from any electroshocks.
Natsinet smiled.
“Oh, don’t worry. I won’t be sending any shocks through your skull. That’s not how it works. At least, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” Then she shoved the two electrodes against the naked skin of the old woman’s left leg, and pulled the trigger.
Perhaps it was worse because she was still wet from the bath. Perhaps it would have felt the same had she been dry. Adelle wasn’t sure. All she knew was that all the muscles in her body suddenly felt as if they had a will of their own.
She began to convulse almost immediately as pain tore through her nervous system, every muscle contracting involuntarily, causing her to thrash and flail like a fish on a hook. It was like having some type of painful orgasm. It felt as if her nerves were on fire.
Adelle’s left leg where Natsinet held the stun gun kicked straight out. Her right leg did the same. Her arms went rigid and her fingers clenched. Her teeth ground against each other and her bowels released a flood of excrement. The pain was too great for Adelle to care.
The nurse was staring at Adelle’s legs. Watching with clinical detachment as the muscles contracted and her legs kicked.
“So, I guess you can move those legs after all.”
Natsinet held the trigger for a mere ten seconds but it felt like a lifetime. When she released the trigger, Adelle was breathing like she’d just run a marathon. Her eyes rolled up in her head and her tongue lolled stupidly from her open mouth, drool running down her chin. It took almost another five minutes for Adelle to regain control of her senses.
“Here’s the good news. Both of your legs moved when the electrical current went through you, which means that there’s nothing wrong with the muscles, but I think we already knew that. It’s the signal from your brain that just isn’t getting to them. But we can retrain the other parts of your brain to take over the job of the parts that are damaged. I know a great technique for that. Here’s the bad news.”
Hero Page 6
