Her voice trailed off. The nurse had already gone out the door.
* * *
One patient, the woman who had been crying, had been wheeled out. The other girl was chewing gum and flipping through a Rolling Stone magazine. Just when Kathleen was about to break the silence and ask the girl if she knew the time, the door opened and Dr. Peters came in.
He had on a green surgical suit. The mask had been untied from around his nose and hung on his chest. His hair was comically mussed, but his eyes were kind and bright.
“Ms. Haley,” he said softly as he took her hand. At least he hadn’t said “good morning.” He wasn’t that hypocritical.
“Hello, Dr. Peters.”
“Are you feeling well under the circumstances?”
“Yes. Hungry.”
He chuckled. “You can eat all you want tonight.”
“She took off my nail polish.” Kathleen was dismayed that her bottom lip was quivering. She thought she had suppressed all those emotions.
“That nurse who brought you in here?” Dr. Peters asked. When Kathleen nodded, he leaned over and whispered, “She’s a real bitch.” He coaxed a smile from the tremulous lips. “But it is required that you take off nail polish before surgery. Otherwise, if you shouldn’t be getting enough oxygen and your nails were to turn blue, we couldn’t see it.” Unnecessarily, he checked the IV. “Are you feeling drowsy?”
She wanted to answer “yes.” She begged her mind for oblivion, but she was wide awake and told him so.
“Well, we’ll get you under so you won’t feel any discomfort. I promise. Briefly, I want to go over the procedure with you, so you’ll know what’s happening.”
He hitched a hip to the side of her bed and partially leaned, partially sat on it. “First, we dilate the cervi
x. That’s the opening to your uterus.” She nodded. “Then, when you are dilated, I’ll insert a hollow tube into the cervix. It’s attached to a vacuum—”
“No,” she gasped, and reflexively gripped his hand. “No, please, don’t tell me.” Her breathing had accelerated to an alarming pace and she felt a blackness closing over her as though she might faint at any moment.
“Ms. Haley—”
“I don’t want to know. Just do it. When will it be finished?”
He covered her hand with his and patted it gently. “Not very long. You’ll probably wake up in a couple of hours, and then, when you feel it’s safe enough to drive, you can go home. I’ll try to get as much of the lining of your uterus as is safe, so you won’t have too much residual bleeding. But use napkins. No tampons until your next period.” He hesitated over the next question. “Would you like to discuss birth-control methods?”
Birth control? For what reason? A hysterical laugh almost escaped her lips. Maybe the IV was working after all. She suddenly felt giddy. “No. That won’t be necessary.”
“I suggest using condoms. And not only for birth control.”
“Of course.” She couldn’t understand herself why she hadn’t taken commonsense precautions before, so she didn’t try to explain her carelessness to Dr. Peters.
“I’ll see you in the OR in, let’s see,” he checked his Japanese, stainless-steel wristwatch, “in about twenty minutes.”
Thirty-five minutes went by before the orderlies came in with the gurney and needlessly moved Kathleen onto it. She felt capable of getting up and walking around but knew that that was out of the question. Self-consciously, she glanced at the girl in the other bed.
She surprised Kathleen by speaking for the first time. “It’s no sweat. Really.”
Had she been through this before? Stunned, Kathleen could only murmur, “Thank you.” They pushed the gurney through the door.
The lights on the corridor ceiling rolled past her. They turned the corner and Kathleen gripped the edges of the gurney, dizzy, afraid that she was going to fall onto the floor. She was wheeled through two sets of double swinging doors, then left to rest in the pre op room.
A nurse checked the bracelet on her wrist. “Ms. Haley?”
“Yes.”
The nurse smiled. This one wasn’t so bitchy. Maybe she understood. “I’m going to give you a little more juice,” she said as she adjusted a clamp on the IV tube. The bottle had been moved with her. “You’ll be getting very sleepy soon.”