The nurse at the desk. A Barbie doll. That's what she reminds me of. What with her perfectly curled blonde hair and flawless makeup, she was a living doll. She probably has a perfect husband and a perfect house.
I know I shouldn't do this.
No matter how many times I tell myself, I wind up playing this game every time I have an appointment. I guess about a person's life just based on what they look like. I know it's horrible and stereotyping is really bad, but I can't help myself. I've been doing it since I was a kid.
My thoughts are interrupted by Barbie doll's high pitched voice. She's suddenly right in front of me, holding a clipboard and a purple pen.
"Hi, are you-" she looks at her clipboard. "-An Tair?"
"Yeah." I respond. I can't even count how many times the nurses have messed up my last name. It's not hard, really. They just read it wrong. It's not Tair, it's Tiar, pronounced like 'tear'. Like, I cry tears. That.
"Okay, great. And you're here today for..." Did she not look at her clipboard at all before walking over here?
"Just a check-up." I answer for her.
"Alrighty then. Hm...how old are you, An?" It says it on your clipboard, Barbie.
"19."
"Okay...date of birth?" I know it says that on there.
"February 14, 1995."
"Oh, almost twenty, huh?" No shit, Barbie.
"Yeah." She marks a few more things on her clipboard with her purple pen (I feel sorry for whoever has to read that later) and then tells me that she'll take me back to see Dr. Cosvor. She leads the way as I wheel behind her. Once I'm in the patient room, Barbie asks me about a million times if I need any help. I tell her that I'm fine, I don't need anything. After the millionth time of me saying that, she reluctantly leaves, but not before reminding me that she's just down the hall.
I get it, Barbie.
After what seems like forever (although I did get some good temple running in- the original, not any of the weird spin-off ones), Dr. Cosvar finally knocks on the door before opening it slowly.
"An?" He says, before coming fully into the small room. "Hi. It's good to see you again."
"You too." Not really, but I'd better be polite. This guy basically saved my life.
"How are you adjusting to the chair? Okay, I hope?"
"Yeah, it's fine." I hate it.
"Wheeling around isn't too hard?"
"No, I've got the hang of it." I fall over like once an hour.
"And have you begun driving again?"
"I've tried."
"How has that been?"
"It was pretty hard at first." Understatement of the year.
"Okay. Have you had any pain in your hips or legs?"
"No." I'm paralyzed, you idiot. That means no feeling. No pain.
"Okay. Sometimes if a patient has pain in an area that we've thought was paralyzed, it can mean that they aren't fully paralyzed, just unable to move." I don't think that's true.
"Yeah, well. No pain, or feeling, for that matter."
"Unfortunately, that is what being paralyzed means." You think?
"I know."
"Yes, well, you would be aware of that, wouldn't you?" I am so done with this idiot.
"Uh-huh."
"Well, everything seems to be in order. Do you have any questions for me?"
"No."
"Alright. I'll just have Hanna-" So that's her name. I like Barbie better. "-lead you out. See you next month, An."
"See you." I say, and then suddenly Barbie is back in the room.
"Let's head on out, shall we?" Ugh. These people.
"Yeah." She begins to walk out, holding the door for me as we exit the waiting room.
"Would you like me to accompany you to your car?" Barbie asks.
"No, I'm-" Is that what I think it is? Oh my god. It is. It is.
"Miss?" Barbie. She can get it for me.
"Yeah, sorry, but could you grab that for me?"
"Um...what exactly do you need?" I point to the flyers propped up on the table. She grabs one and holds it up. "This?"
"Yeah. Thanks." Barbie hands me the yellow and blue piece of paper, and I read it four times just to make sure I'm not seeing things. I can't believe this.
I read the flyer again, remembering each word.
16 AND UNDER WATER POLO TEAM
It reads in big letters. COACH NEEDED. CALL NUMBER BELOW TO SET UP INTERVIEW.
This is perfect.
