Barely Above Water

by Pallotta, Gail;

  “Yes. If you want to do that, Courtney can handle it. In addition to the therapies we’ve discussed, a ten-visit package includes appointments with me and costs around twenty-two hundred dollars.”

  The amount hit Suzie like a hammer. Coming up with that much money at one time was enough to make her shake without this illness. Thank goodness for her savings. “That sounds like the best option.”

  Dr. Granger stood and scooped up a bulb-shaped, silver object from his desk. He clutched it tightly as though it was precious. “This violet laser is a bright light, and we think of the word ‘light’ as an acronym for the phrase “letting in God’s healing touch.” Since it’s an LLLT, or cold laser, it doesn’t burn or cut, but will penetrate your clothing. It regulates normal cell function, stimulates weak areas of your body by improving metabolism and circulation, and promotes tissue healing.”

  He gave an upward motion with his hand. “Stand up. I’m going to shine it on you, holding it about an inch from your clothes. It will pass through them, but it won’t harm them or change the composition of anything you’re wearing.” Dr. Granger hurriedly pointed the laser at his pants leg as though he realized Suzie needed reassurance it was safe.

  She peered at the healing device and Dr. Granger. He seemed fine. The red lines tell us how well your organs are functioning. Why not? How much harm could the LLLT do now? She rose and remained on her feet while he lasered her backside.

  It was as though nothing happened, no sensation at all. The fear of the unknown taunting her diminished. Dr. Granger wasn’t writing her off. He seemed confident he could treat this malady, and he’d already started.

  “I’ll move around front. Here, wear these.” Dr. Granger handed Suzie a pair of black plastic glasses that looked like goggles. She slid them on, and he repeated the process. “We want to avoid shining the light directly in your eyes. It could damage them.”

  “Don’t eye doctors perform laser surgery?”

  “Yes, but they use a different type of laser.”

  This peculiar object would help her. Sure it would. Doubt gripped Suzie like a straightjacket. Then again, the laser didn’t hurt, and she had nothing else to try.

  Dr. Granger cut the light off, laid it down, and relaxed his stance. “That’s enough to acquaint you with the treatments.”

  Suzie removed the glasses and handed them to him.

  “Have a seat.” He motioned toward Margaret’s chair. “I want to give you a special diet. It’s imperative we control your blood sugar.”

  Food. Little did he know the horrible problems that erupted inside her when she ate. She plopped down then Dr. Granger pulled up the desk chair and sat in front of her.

  He sucked in a deep breath. “You’ll have to play a big part in this.”

  Maybe his results revealed more than the medical doctor’s. “Do I have diabetes?”

  He sat back. “No, your pancreas is working, but not properly. We’re going to help your body repair that. In the meantime, you must limit carbohydrates to fifteen grams at one time. One starchy food at each meal and two snacks.”

  He means no potatoes, cake, ice cream, and cookies. His words fell on Suzie’s heart like darts. She opened her mouth to argue, but Dr. Granger’s voice sounded as though it had steel in it.

  “Also, when we eat foods compatible with our blood types, our bodies process them easily. If we consume foods incompatible with them, our bodies have to use extra energy to handle our meals. Use the guidelines in the book, Eat 4 Your Type or Cook 4 Your Type. Either one is fine, and most bookstores carry both. Right now, you don’t have any energy to spare.”

  He got that right.

  “Your body needs every ounce of strength you can muster to heal, but we’ll ensure you feel better soon. Do you have any questions?”

  None that seemed relevant. She didn’t understand the scan, the laser, or the diet, but God had sent her here. Visions of chocolate éclairs and baked potatoes with butter and sour cream danced in her head. Right now, she hardly could eat at all, so what did it matter? “How long do you think it’ll take for me to recover? Sometimes my head hurts. I can’t eat without experiencing horrible indigestion. Unbearable pain from it keeps me up at night until I fall asleep from exhaustion. Then the weakness overtakes me, my insides race, and I start shaking.”

  Dr. Granger shook his head. “We can’t eliminate all the symptoms at once. You’ll regain strength and health a little at a time. I think the weakness sweeping over you will go away as soon as we balance the blood sugar.”

  Getting rid of any of the maladies would help.

  Unlike the medical doctor who’d flitted around the examining room like a trapped fly trying to escape, Dr. Granger remained steadfast in his seat.

  “What about the heartburn?”

  “We’ll give you something to settle it. If you’d like, stop by the grocery and purchase fresh ginger. Grate a little over your food. It’s soothing to the stomach, but a problem in your brain causes the indigestion.”

  Silent screams echoed in Suzie’s head. She put her hands over it. “My brain. What’s wrong with my brain?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with it, but the foreign substance has spread through your blood stream to your entire body. We’ll get it out. You’ll be fine. If the toxic matter had caused scar tissue, we couldn’t reverse it, but it hasn’t. It’s made an imprint.” Dr. Granger tempered the horrible truth with confidence in his words and tone.

  Suzie hardly could speak for pushing back tears of relief that the problem wasn’t permanent. At the same time, those of sadness over being nearly dead in the first place threatened to break open the dam of emotions. Yet, she had to know. She forced the words to her question while dreading the answer. “What ailment do I have?”

  “We treat the whole body. The word ‘diagnosis’ comes from Latin. Broken down in English, di equals two or more. Agno translates as not to know, and sis means the process of. So literally, diagnosis means two or more people don’t have a clue what’s wrong with you. The diagnosis is more directly related to what category or box you fit in and, of course, the money issues. Who is going to pay?”

  Dr. Granger’s explanation paralleled what the medical doctor had told her when he’d consulted the technicians in the labs then refused to treat her. Apparently, they hadn’t found a category for her.

  “Because of the way a body works, all disease starts with a shock, trauma, or surprise. Then the body begins a two-step cycle. During the first, the conflict phase or incubation period, no signs or symptoms show up. By modern medical standards, a patient in this phase would not have a diagnosis or be considered sick.”

  It was difficult to relate Dr. Granger’s words to the limited knowledge Suzie had of her malady and illnesses in general, but she nodded as though she understood.

  “Only when and if a person’s body perceives that the shock, trauma, or surprise has ended and the body’s safe again, will the body begin the second, or healing phase, of the disease. That’s when the patient has symptoms. He or she may experience pain, fever, vomiting, wanting to sleep all the time, or grow a tumor. At this point, most people would say the patient is sick. He or she needs a doctor.” Even though Dr. Granger spoke from a sitting position, he delivered the information with the enthusiasm of a great classroom instructor.

  “Wait, are you telling me when someone feels really awful, or contracts what modern medicine calls a disease, that person’s actually recovering?”

  Dr. Granger nodded. “Yes, at that point, the body’s attempting to cure itself. It’s saying, ‘We are beginning to alleviate the conflict that occurred in the past.’”

  Whew! At least Suzie’s brain still functioned.

  “All disease works this way. Some people may have a conflict phase of less than a second in time, while others’ bodies may be in conflict for years. Research in the field of German New Medicine shows the longer a body is in this phase, the greater the potential for a more drastic healing. Say, someone is exposed
to chicken pox, the disease will surface in about two weeks, while food poisoning will show up in around six to ten hours.”

  Suzie got that. She’d had both.

  “Also, each part of the body has symbols, such as a shoulder.” Dr. Granger patted his shoulder. “When it’s hurt, it may indicate carrying burdens for other people. These representations help correlate what precipitated the shock, trauma, or surprise.”

  This explanation of the healing strategy still seemed foreign to Suzie, but in so many words, Dr. Granger told her he would get to the bottom of this disease. The hope he offered started to seep into her pores. “Sometimes, I start sweating for no good reason. Will that stop soon?”

  Dr. Granger’s blond eyebrows shot up. “When you sweat, your body’s throwing off toxins. That’s a good thing.”

  “What are my limitations? I took a job coaching a summer league swim team so I could move to Destin and take advantage of these treatments. Am I able to coach? How about going out in the evenings? Should I be resting? How about exercise?” Suzie almost burst into tears. “A good-looking guy asked me out tonight. I’ve lost twenty-five pounds and none of my clothes fit.”

  Dr. Granger met her gaze with kind green eyes. “You have no restrictions. Do what you feel like. You lost weight because your body isn’t absorbing food right now, but it will. In the meantime, I think a short shopping trip this afternoon is just what you need.”

  Warmth bubbled inside Suzie in spite of the dark and coldness invading her heart. It seemed as far as Dr. Granger was concerned, she could’ve been a normal person with a sinus infection. It was a matter of getting her through the phases.

  Dr. Granger and Margaret concluded from the scan she was very sick, but they accepted her as someone special enough to cure. Their attitude proved they’d do whatever it took to make her well. Peace fell over her like flowers, and for the first time in three months, she wanted to kick up her heels.

  “We’re going to take good care of you. Courtney will have all the papers you need with your supplements out front. Go ahead and schedule your next appointment.” Dr. Granger leaned forward and held out a note. “Here’s a phone number where I can be reached after hours. If you need me, call. Enjoy shopping and your evening with the good-looking guy. God bless you.”

  Gentleness floated from Dr. Granger and soothed Suzie’s troubled soul. If only it would last.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The outlet store resembled a warehouse with a glass front. A display board with colorful tank tops stood in one window and a corkboard with hooks holding purses and bags in the other. Suzie’s skin tingled as she swung open the door. Here she might find something she could afford. The scent of dyed cotton wafted from the clothes jammed on racks in the middle of the large room. The smell of leather tickled her nose as she passed by the accessories in the front of the building. Home goods and kitchenware sat on shelves in the back.

  She joined three ladies flipping through the selections on an aisle labeled “New Arrivals.” The colorful choices jumped out at her and ignited the joy of shopping she hadn’t known since she grew ill. She spotted a pair of blue jean capri pants jammed in the pants section and forced the coat hanger back with all her strength. It scraped across the metal pole and she yanked out the prize. Even better than she imagined, the garment featured an embroidered floral pattern on one leg. Her heart danced. She loved them. If only they’d fit.

  She took a few strides and reached a nearby dressing room which protruded from the right wall as though it’d been added to the structure after it was built. She tugged on the pants, then turned every which way in front of a mirror affixed to a flat white surface. Perfect. But how much did they cost? A sinking sensation hit her. Treatments came first. This illness stuck to her like a leach sapping her happiness wherever she went. She grasped the small price tag hanging on a string at the waist. This time she won. Bliss skipped across her skin as she changed.

  Clutching her new find, she thumbed through the t-shirts. She shouldn’t buy anything else, but she could look. She found a pink top that matched a flower on the capris. A lady with long blond hair standing beside her held up black shorts, studying them with intense green eyes. Suzie smiled at her as she reached for a pair. Then she picked up the blue jean Bermuda shorts hanging next to them. She should save her money to pay Dr. Granger. Her job only lasted through the summer. She had enough cash in her purse, but how foolish it would be to spend it now. She swooped up the bargains, strolled to the cash register with light, bouncy steps, and checked out.

  Twenty minutes later, she parked in front of her unit and marched straight to the utility closet where she washed and dried the new clothes. She held them to her chest. Visions of wearing them for Matt filled her head.

  * * *

  The alarm buzzed and woke Suzie from her nap. She glimpsed sun streaming through the sides of the blinds on to the white wicker chair. The weakness swooped over her like an ill wind. Her insides raced as fast as a blender, and her entire body shook. She rolled over and grasped her stomach. Agony ripped through her soul. Why her? Go away. Please go away.

  Finally the onslaught subsided. She snuggled underneath the blue and white comforter while small doses of energy recharged her body. Then she stood and stumbled into the bathroom.

  Cold water splashing on her face woke her completely. Dinner with Matt. She twirled around like a dancer, grabbed the white towel, and patted her cheeks dry. Matt and the kids on the swim team were the only good things in her life right now. That was two more than the day before yesterday. She stepped lightly to the louvered bifold closet doors then slipped into the new threads and applied cover-up to hide the dark circles under her eyes.

  Should she tell Matt about her illness? Not yet. He was still her boss, although their budding relationship might morph into more. Then again, if he knew all about her, he might turn on her as Carson had.

  With her mouth open, she smoothed on pink lipstick that matched the new shirt. Hoping like crazy and praying hard her digestive issues wouldn’t disgrace her in front of Matt, she trekked outside, slipped into the driver’s seat of her car, and backed out.

  Within fifteen minutes, she arrived at The Open Window. The entryway of the gray rustic building overlooked the emerald ocean washing onto white sand.

  “Hi. One?” a hostess in a blue shirt greeted her.

  “No. I’m meeting someone.” A puff of wind whipped into the room and blew Suzie’s hair across her face. She pushed it back, pulling strands from her mouth. “I see him.”

  The hostess smiled and waved her hand toward the aisle leading to the dining area.

  Matt sat beside a Bermuda shade and gazed at the shore. Suzie scraped a chair across the floor as she pulled it up to the wooden table, and he turned around.

  “Hi. You look great.”

  Suzie gasped. It’d been so long since anyone said those words to her, they almost sounded like Chinese. Could she believe them? Odd. Matt treated her as though nothing was wrong. To hear Carson tell it, she was repulsive. If she told Matt about the illness, would it ease her loneliness? How stupid would that be? Having him oblivious to the symptoms was a blessing almost too good to be true. This burden must remain locked in her heart. “Thank you.”

  The late afternoon sun glistened on Matt’s muscular, tan arm as he placed a saltshaker on the napkins to keep a stiff wind from ruffling them. “Some days, you gotta tie everything down in here.” He chuckled. “Not really. They’d shut the Bermuda shades before they let that happen.”

  Suzie laughed at his joke, but then an awkward silence fell. What was Matt thinking? That she appeared pale or thin? He looked as though he pumped iron every day. “I imagine you have great benefits working for the county full-time. Do you use the weight room for free?”

  “I could, but I joined a private facility before I started this job. I guess I’m a creature of habit. I’m still a member there. Are you looking for a place?”

  She shouldn’t have brought up that subject.
She could barely get through work. “No, thank you. I’m going to return to a strenuous swimming regimen soon.”

  That’s what she would’ve said before this illness struck her. Strange how words flew out of her mouth as though she were the same person she used to be. She wanted to break down and sob at the harsh reality, but that would signify defeat, and possibly end her new job. God was on her side. Anything that fought with God, including this malady, lost.

  The waitress strolled to the table, a pen and pad in hand. “What would you guys like?”

  “If I could have a big dish of broccoli with butter that would be great,” Suzie spoke up immediately.

  The waitress blinked. “Is that all, ma’am?”

  Matt tilted his head and frowned. “That’s not enough, is it?”

  Heat crawled up Suzie’s neck. Why couldn’t she eat at will like everyone else? Sometimes, she explained to a server that she was on a special diet, but she didn’t want to do that in front of Matt. She yearned to appear healthy.

  He cocked an eyebrow. “I just don’t want you to leave hungry.”

  “I’m fine.” Suzie wished she could crawl into a wormhole. “Yes, that’s all, thank you.”

  Matt shifted his gaze from Suzie to the waitress. “I’ll have the shrimp basket.”

  Her nerves shivered inside the way they did when people scraped their fingernails over a blackboard. Why did others care what she ate? It was only a meal and a tip to the server. The waitress strolled casually toward the opening to the kitchen, such a happy-looking entryway with blue and pink tuna, starfish, and grouper images hanging above it on a net. Suzie’s pulse raced because she couldn’t ask for anything she wanted on the menu, especially in front of Matt. That reality falling on her like a huge wrecking ball crushed the brightness the interior design and this evening held.