Beyond the Hurt Page 7

  It took the Emergency Medical Technicians nearly five minutes to come to my rescue. The last thing I remembered was being loaded onto the stretcher. Thank you, God!

  The bright lights pierced my eyelids forcing them to open. I was sprawled across the hospital bed in the private room surrounded by all the different pieces of medical equipment. I had multiple tubes and lines branching from my limbs. The beeps, buzzes and alarms made getting any rest virtually impossible. I slowly lifted my right arm to view the arterial line that was nipping my skin. Gradually, I shifted my head to examine the line attached to the monitor to ensure my blood pressure was good. 117/76 mm Hg, my blood pressure was normal. I was fine. I wanted nothing more than to get out of that hospital bed and back to the normalcy of my apartment. Did no one come to see if I was ok? How long have I been here? Did my mama call me back? All these thoughts rushed through my mind. The petite Filipina registered nurse who was assigned to my room abruptly interrupted my pondering. She lightly tapped on the door to notify me of her entering the room. Her voice was sweet and soothing, almost making me feel at ease in the frigid recovery area. The pale wall coverings and unappealing pastel drapes effectively prevented the outside world from breaking its way in.

  “Hi, my name is Ana and I am your nurse. I am here to take your vitals and verify if you need any additional treatments,” she explained.

  “Is everything OK?” I inquired with dire concern.

  “Dr. White will be in shortly to explain what happened?” She carefully noted all my vitals on her chart and left me to my wondering thoughts. I decided I would attempt to rest my eyes a bit before my doctor arrived.

  Just as I began to journey into the first stage of REM, my doctor entered the room, “Hello Debra. I’m Dr. White. I’m glad to see you are awake and feeling better.” I was not quite awake, however I was delighted that my doctor was young, African-American and female. That was not common where I was from; it even lifted my spirits. All the times I went to visit my mother at work I never saw a young sista, brotha, or any Black person for that matter, as a doctor.

  I still remained weak. I repositioned myself on the hardwood-floor-of-a-bed and braced myself for her report.

  “Did you know that you were pregnant?” She jumped right into it. For a moment, I had even forgotten the reason I was there in the first place.

  “Yes.” I said with hesitation.

  “When did you find out?”

  “Last night.” I was unclear where the line of questioning was leading, but I decided to be compliant.

  “So you haven't taken any prenatal vitamins?” With each question, she made notations on her clipboard.

  “I’m sorry doctor, but I don’t know why you are asking me all of these questions. Is there something wrong? Is my baby okay?”

  “Ms. Tucker, when the paramedics arrived at your apartment you were going in and out of consciousness, due to the fact that you were losing so much blood. You originally called because you were experiencing abdominal pain and excessive bleeding. We were able to get you stabilized and your vitals within the normal limit. We ordered some stat labs, drew blood and placed an IV in your arm to distribute fluids throughout your body.” She noticed the confusion and concern in my expression and got straight to the point. “You were experiencing what is referred to as an active bleed, so we immediately transferred you up to surgery. It was a life or death situation…so we proceeded with the surgery.”

  “I don’t follow you, doctor. What are you telling me?” I felt my body temperature rising and my palms moistened. I was feeling nauseated all over again, too much was happening too fast. I wished my father were here to scoop me up in his arms and tell me everything would be all right. He would rub my back and whisper in my ear that it was just a nightmare and all would be fine in the morning. He would offer me warm milk and chocolate chip cookies, just for his precious baby girl. But I knew this was real, all too real.

  “We had to conduct an emergency Dilation and Curettage surgery to remove all the small pieces of the placenta.” My throat immediately dropped to my stomach and my breath became shortened. I began to gasp for air. The medical blanket that draped over my leg shielding my bare legs from the arctic temperature was having a reverse effect on my body. Chills ran up and down my spine, arms and legs. I was overreacting, yet I couldn’t control myself. All I heard the doctor saying was breathe, breathe, breathe.

  Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. I could feel myself regaining control of my breathing. The doctor was extremely patient with me. My intuition was telling me that she could somehow relate to my situation. When I gazed back in her direction, her face told me that that was not the end of her announcement.

  “Based on the ultra sound you were seven weeks pregnant and typically within the first trimester spontaneous miscarriages can occur,” she continued. She appeared so matter-of-fact there was no denying her conclusion. “Unfortunately, due to the procedure and your medical condition, the likeliness of you having children in the future has significantly decreased. We were unable to get in touch with your parents. Were they aware of that you were pregnant?”

  It had not dawned on me until that moment that my mother never called me back. I wanted to tell her what was going on, but she was just too busy. It was bad enough that I was unable to get a hold of her, but the hospital was unsuccessful as well. I was ashamed and embarrassed to be unaccompanied at the hospital and worse no one cared to be by my side.

  “What about the father of the baby? Was he aware of the pregnancy?”

  I became so engulfed in my own thoughts that I didn’t realize the doctor was still in the room awaiting my answer. Of course, he didn’t know about the pregnancy. I barely knew about the pregnancy and the doctor just confirmed that there is no longer a baby inside of me and potentially no baby ever! I had no reason to call Jamel and inform him about a thing. I really didn’t even know where to find him. Everything really happened on a whim. My friend Estelle really wanted me to join in on the “Popped Cherry Squad,” so she set me up with her caramel-apple skinned, oh-so-fine cousin Jamel, who was clearly twenty-five in the face, but only nineteen in earned years, to initiate me into womanhood. Initially, I was unsure about the entire situation. I prided myself on staying a virgin for so long, although my father was the sole reason. I still felt an air of self-respect and dignity. Most of the girls in my senior class lost their virginity in middle school around 7th and 8th grade. By high school, they were experimenting with sex toys and exchanging sex partners. I was curious, but no fool. In addition to their treasure chest of experience, they all knew the direct route to the women’s clinic because they had been diagnosed with their fair share of sexually transmitted diseases. Out of all of them, I’m certain that somebody from my school was a living example of how to treat it.

  Samson dropped me off at Estelle’s mama’s house in North Oakland off 40th street and we walked, what seemed like a two-mile distance around the block to her aunt’s one-story single-family house on the northwest border, where Jamel was patiently waiting our appointment. On the way over, Estelle filled me up with all of her Essence, Ebony and Jet magazine advice on the dos and don’ts of good lovemaking. She shared infinite wisdom on typical sex positions for amateurs, and how to actively respond to his touch. I imagined she thought she was “putting me up on game,” but all she managed to do was make me even more nervous. I attempted to turn back several times, not taking my divine way of escape, knowing that what I was about to do was not truly in my heart. I didn’t love this boy. Wasn’t sex supposed to be accompanied with love? At least, that is the way my parents told it to me. My mother’s advice was always to wait until you are old enough to deal with the consequences of intercourse, mentally, physically, spiritually and medically. She found it hysterical to throw in the medical part with a wink and a “you know what I am talking about.” Love will make you ready is what she always ended with. “What me and your father have is true love. Someday you will know what I mean.” Honestly, if l
ove is what they had, I wasn’t interested.

  I knew I wasn’t in love, walking to his house. There had to be a better way in this scenario. No pregame date with dinner and flowers, just straight to the nightcap. I was certainly not a whore; so why did I feel so cheap? Yet, he was extremely handsome and attractive. He actually agreed to be intimate with me. This man had all the little hoochies on the block on his jock ready to make a 100-meter dash to his spot on command. I was doing him no favor. Every time he came around my body tingled and my panties got moist. I was drunk off the juice too! It baffled me why this was occurring, but I enjoyed it and let it happen each and every time. I often plotted ways to get next to him, I even went as far to pretend I was cold on occasion, so he would lend me his jacket, when he was no longer around, my clothes would carry a remnant of his Curve cologne goodness. He knew I was checking for him and played into it each time. His hand constantly brushed against my body “accidentally,” as he claimed, but we both knew the innocent game we were playing. In spite of all this, I wasn’t prepared to take anything to the next level. But, I was here now; there would be no turning back.

  We did the final make-up, breath, and booty check; the one where you make sure it is still nice and on point as it was when you left the house and I was on the doorstep ringing the bell to get in and “get it in.” He had bumping on the stereo, R. Kelly’s 12 Play; he was too ready. He wasted little time answering the doorbell on the first ring. His 5’11 185lb frame stood before me with his glistening lightly chiseled chest welcoming to reach out and have a rub or two. I cautioned myself and subjected myself to taking mental pictures that would enhance my dreaming experience that night. It was clear he had just hopped out the shower and threw on a towel to cover his slowly growing bulge, as to not make it too awkward before the real festivities started.

  “Debra…Debra…Ms. Tucker. Are you ok? Do you need a moment?” Dr. White was out of her patience and ready to move on to her next patient.

  “Just try my mother again. Call her cell this time.”

  “Without the consent of your legal guardian, we are incapable of discharging you.” Dr. White reminded and buzzed for Ana to attempt to get my mother on the line again.

  Chapter 7

  The light knocking on the door startled Raquel from her midday meditation. This came when she had downtime between clients and she could focus her energy on staying positive and centered. With her wide array of clientele, from the high and mighty, pretentious clients to the modest tell-it-all customers, all left her with too much information and not enough evidence. It often weighed on her conscience, absorbing loads of gossip, recognizing that the subjects of the majority of the chatter had once been seated in her very chair. She was a spiritual woman. She knew there was a higher power and orchestrator of all good things in her life, but she was just not the church going type. Meditation was her daily religion. In spite of her desire to remain undisturbed, she authorized her guest to come on in, hoping it wasn’t anything too drastic to pull her from her tranquil state. With the recent line of events in her life concerning her son, she was rightfully on edge.

  “Hey Beautiful. Can I come in?” Raquel surprised at her visitor, reluctantly nodded and motioned her arm in the direction of the available seat. Instead, he walked around to where she was resting and hovered over her with preoccupation. “Baby, I need you to do me this favor one time. You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

  Raquel was a bit flustered by his desperation and close proximity; however, she managed to keep her cool, maintaining a calm composure. “First of all, don’t come in here sweet-talking me, you know we don’t get down like that,” Raquel moved her shoulder to avoid him from kissing her on her cheek. She knew it was coming because he always liked to sneak in quick kisses when she least expected it. She got up swiftly moving around her salon office to keep a tolerable distance. His audacious, smooth-smelling cologne filled the room, sending charges through her worn out body, rejuvenating her in ways she was ill prepared to handle. It was necessary to stay at a fair distance to keep any unwanted sparks from flying between the two of them. “Now you know I don’t get down with you like that and I would hate for your wife to walk in and think something is up. We have an agreement and I am sticking to my end of it.” Raquel twisted up her face and body, displaying her disgust for him barging into her sanctuary to stir up buried feelings.

  “I understand all of that, but Charlene is good with you. We put all the drama to rest years ago, but now I have some bigger fish to fry. I messed up and I need you.”

  “What happened?” She placed her hand on her hip. She made it a point to sound uninviting, to allow her vexation with his wavering pattern of behavior shine through.

  Edmond finally pulled out one of her leather chairs and made himself comfortable. He sat back and propped his feet up, crossed his arms to get straight to the business at hand. “We had a huge blow-up the other day and I want to do something real special for her, plus our anniversary is right around the corner. I was thinking…a little pampering with hair, nails and make-up, then dinner at The Crown Room in the city, You know the sleek and sexy rooftop bar?” he stated making a rhetorical remark with the intention of stirring up some jealousy.

  Raquel was in no way impressed by his attempt to make her jealous. It was almost embarrassing to her that he always managed to crawl back into her oasis when things went awry with his wife. “Ed…babe, spare me the details. You want me to honestly believe that you came all the way down here to ask a favor? I understand you want the best for her so you came to the best in town, but you best believe I am charging you full price and I expect a hefty tip. And if she even attempts to get buck with me, I will burn off her edges!” Raquel twisted her neck with every word, making sure he fully understood the conditions of their new covenant. If in fact, he did come this way to utilize her services; she thought it best to be worth the blood, sweat and tears.

  “Baby, it’s all good. That won’t be necessary. She will be on her better behavior. I promise. In fact, here is my down payment.” He pulled out a bundle of crisp one hundred dollar bills, counted out five Benjamins, and placed them on her oversized oak-wood desk. “That should be enough for an appointment and for you a spa day, because you look stressed.” He knew he didn’t want to overstay his welcome and lead any of the gossiping women in the salon to jump to any more conclusions than they had already. He rested on his feet to begin his exit. Raquel summoned Tanya through the intercom to set up the appointment for Charlene Tucker.

  “I must admit Mr. Tucker; you are still looking and smelling good.” Raquel followed her words with an examination of his muscular frame from head to toe. He kept in great shape. He may not have been able to get down like the young men, but he definitely held his own. “If Charlene decides that she doesn’t want to deal with your mess anymore, you know where to find me. I will put a few of my beaus on the bench for you. It would be just like old times,” she said with a smirk and wink, turning slightly for him to get a glimpse of her well-kept, voluptuous physique.

  Her flirtation was becoming very reminiscent to the time when they had first met junior year of high school.

  Raquel and Edmond were both exceptional athletes, part of the Fremont High School Varsity Track team. One day after practice, Edmond mustered up enough courage to finally ask her out. It was popular at the time to go steady with the girls who were the prettiest and frankly the most developed. Only the boys with the most “cool” had the ability to win the attention of these often-snooty girls. His boys made a bet with him that he didn’t have a chance with Raquel and ultimately she would turn him down. Her trendy sense of style and grown woman curves made her a high commodity amongst the young boys in the school and around the neighborhood. She embodied the true definition of LL Cool J’s Around the Way Girl. When Edmond was able to swoop her up, all the fellas knew that he was the man. She dropped her nineteen-year-old boyfriend at the time to be with him. Neither of them knew that just a year l
ater, Charles would come and turn their world upside down.

  The original plan was to ask her out, win the bet and drop her for the next lady that caught his eye, yet it did not quite pan out that way; for some reason she stuck around, he didn’t know love at the time, but it was the closest thing to it. Dating in high school was rough. Edmond spent a lot of time playing ball with his boys at the local parks, in his mind trying to stay distant from Raquel to avoid becoming too attached. He loved her and enjoyed her company, but now that they were seniors, he wanted to make sure he could keep his options open. His boys were in the habit of keeping the company of several women and he didn’t want to be the only one tied down.

  However, Raquel was no dunce. She could sense the fact that Edmond was distancing himself from her. During this time, her ex-boyfriend was attempting to make a comeback in her life. She was lonely, and fighting it became less and less of an obligation. One day her willpower to avoid her attraction left her remorseful, lost in a predicament of commitment to an unborn child. She was caught between one man that really only wanted her body, not her heart and another who was gradually slipping away. Edmond was the type of man, to never run from any challenge. In fact, he often welcomed it. Finding out that his high school sweetheart was pregnant nearly broke him, yet he gave his word to be there for her no matter what the outcome. He worked extra jobs, just to help her make ends meet. He even sacrificed his dedicated time with his boys to help with babysitting. He was truly invested for the long haul.