All the Sad Little Things

Chapter 9: Wounded Heart

Trigger Warning: Themes of s****l Abuse

Past

Instead of taking us home after she picked me up from the school, mom had decided to drive me to the hospital ER. The school nurse had told her that she thought I was having some kind of stress induced panic attack. She had checked my blood pressure and pulse and both were extremely high. All I could do was apologize to my mom. I felt so ashamed of myself, my lying, and what I had brought into our home that night. My body felt filthy, like I had vermin crawling all over me, infesting every single part of my being. I could still taste the kiss Scott had aggressively forced on my lips earlier that morning. I shuddered and tried to wipe it away for the one hundredth time. Still shaking, I gripped my mom’s hand tight and waited to be seen by the doctor.

“You don’t have to keep apologizing sweetheart.” she said as she wiped tears from my face. “You are sick baby. You know daddy and I will always come and get you from school if you aren’t well.” The ER nurse finally took us back and mom helped me get situated on the examination table. While the nurses ran all their tests and took my vitals, mom explained to them everything that had happened that morning. My eyes wandered the walls of the room looking at all the posters of the human body and its inner workings. They were as exposed as I felt. I suddenly wondered how in depth of an examination the doctors would want and inside I began to panic again. Would they know? The little lines on the monitor began to dance and rise faster and faster and the beeps followed in time.

“I think she is having another episode.” the one nurse said sounding concerned. “Maybe we should go grab the doctor so he can see this.” As she slipped out the door the other nurse called for oxygen and began ripping a mask from a sealed bag. It was placed around my face and quickly hooked to the tank that was wheeled into the room.

“What is going on!” My mom sounded frightened.

“She’s ok Mrs. Blake. We think she may be having some kind of panic attack but we won’t know for sure until the doctor sees her.” The nurse did her best to keep my mom calm while continuing to monitor me. The other nurse returned with the doctor and he quickly snatched my chart hanging from the door. He gave it a speedy once over and then looked up at the screen and then at me. Pulling his stethoscope from around his neck, he came around to the head of the table and said in a thick foreign accent,

“Let’s have a listen shall we.” Without hesitation he lifted the back of my shirt up quite forcefully, causing me to jump out of my skin. The tears began to pour from my eyes again and the lines on the monitor rose higher. “Don’t be nervous.” the doctor said with a little chuckle. “I am a professional.” My mom came to my side and took my hand.

“My poor girl is a nervous wreck doctor. This has never happened to her before.” The doctor continued to listen to my heart for another minute then backed away and removed the stethoscope from his ears and placed it around his neck again.

“Please remind me of your daughter’s activities this morning leading up to the time she arrived at the hospital.” the doctor said as he took out a pen and notepad. I could see my mom was frustrated of repeating herself but she began her recollection of the morning again. After several minutes of going back and forth with my mother, the doctor gave his observation. “It is in my opinion that Miss Blake here is suffering from some form of anxiety attack. From what you tell me, she is under an enormous amount of pressure at school and is preparing for college.” He adjusted his glasses and walked towards my mom who was clearly unimpressed with his diagnosis so far. “After this morning’s meeting with her school counselor, she was most likely feeling overwhelmed by the added responsibility she had been given and her body’s natural reaction kicked in, causing the panic attack I believe we are now seeing.”

“What about the vomiting though? Oh! And her heart?” my mom asked still not convinced.

“All a natural response to stress and over stimulation.” the doctor said with extreme confidence. “Her body is tired so her immune system is tired. When the body is exhausted the immune system is exhausted too, allowing for sickness to enter. As for her heart, I would like Miss Blake to wear a portable heart monitor for a few days so we can observe its activity and look for anything that might cause concern.” Mom seemed a little more at ease now that some form of action was being taken. I was fitted for the portable monitor which I would have to return in a few days. Once the data it collected was observed by the doctor, they would call and let us know what the findings were. I was released from the ER and advised to go home and take a couple days to rest and get better. Better. I didn’t know if that was ever going to be possible again. Were you able to get better after being broken?

On our way home Mom called my dad to fill him in on everything the doctor had said.

“I knew something wasn’t quite right when I dropped her off at school.” I heard my dad say to my mom. “She seemed so out of it this morning.” I was going to have to do a better job at hiding this. If it was that obvious to my dad then everyone else would be able to see it too. I thought about Kelly and my other friends. Would they be able to tell something wasn’t quite right with Emma? Mom called the school next to let them know I would be out for a couple days at least to recoup. She also made it very clear why I was sick and insisted that the school take it easier on their senior students.

“You are placing entirely too much pressure on these kids and it’s giving them heart conditions!” she said in her mama bear voice.

“Mom! Please don’t yell at the secretary. It’s not her fault.” I said trying to calm her down. Mom hung up her phone and set it down in the cup holder.

“Sorry sweetheart.” She reached over and patted my knee. “You really scared me today. I’ve never seen you like that before. I thought you were having a heart attack!” I noticed a tear rolling down her face and my heart just sank even more. This was all my fault. I was causing my parents so much pain. Imagine if they really knew what was going on. I swore to myself then and there that this would never hurt them again. My pain would remain just that, mine. No one else had to hurt except me.