Reflections

I waited for the pain to ease but the waves kept coming and coming. People were screaming, running, yelling; the entire complex was in a total panic. I heard someone ask if I was going to make it. The response was drowned out by another scream. Suddenly a man was in my face telling me it was going to be okay, the pain was only temporary; they would give me something to help. I realized the screaming was mine. I saw a syringe. I saw...nothing. I was fading into dreamland.

The dreams were worse than the pain. The gruff voice ordering me to get away from the counter; the look of panic on the clerk's face and then her face gone, replaced with a bloody mass of flesh. I never heard the gun shot. I never heard that horrible, thundering boom that took her life. All I heard were screams, my screams. I was climbing over the counter when the next shot came. I felt my hair raise off my shoulders and then I was thrown onto what remained of the girl who sold me my morning coffee. Distant voices were yelling; more gunshots; then total silence. I woke up screaming hysterically.

Friday was just like any other Friday in the past year. I woke up with that creepy feeling like my dream was an omen. Lucky for me I wasn't superstitious. I couldn't remember anything about the past 10 hours. The medication certainly did it's job. I showered, dressed and turned on the tea kettle for my usual cup of Earl Grey with honey and cream. I spent an hour trying on different hats and finally settled for my normal blue-jean fishing hat. I hadn't fished in years but the hat covered my face and neck, and that's what mattered. I was off to the doctor's office once again.

Driving the half hour to the appointment let me focus and reflect over the past year. The first few months were the worse. Surgeries, skin grafts and drinking everything through a straw. You would think I would lose weight. Nope, gained twenty five pounds, right there, on my butt. Note to self; check with doctor about liposuction instead of reconstruction. Surely it would be cheaper to take it out than put it in, right?

The grafts seemed to be taking pretty well, according to good old Doctor Webber. Hmm, felt like the same tortured face and neck to me. But he was the expert, so I had to trust his judgment. Maybe I was trusting his eyes. Those deep green eyes with little golden flecks that sparkled just the right amount as though the sun was reaching through the inner sanctum of his soul and peeking out into the world of..........oh, shut up fool! He is the doctor and I am the patient. Stop the insanity. But, hey, they had me on medication for that too. Yep, if there's an ill then there's a pill. As long as it is on the inside. The outside deformities aren't cured with a prescription. I should know, after all this time. I'm not going to cry. I'm not going to cry.

I was still crying as I stepped off the elevator and into the reception area. Lucky for me no-one could tell because my face was already red and swollen from the surgeries. At least Halloween would be easy this year. I really had to stop. My jokes were even annoying me. I walked up to the window, signed in and sat.

When he spoke, it startled me. I was so used to keeping my head down so as not to be noticed, I hadn't seen the gentleman sitting on the next chair.

" I don't mean to pry, but you seemed so upset when you got of the elevator. Do you not need the tissue?"

I noticed the package of tissues he was holding. Nice. Thanks for noticing me falling apart at the seams. I smiled and politely shook my head, holding up my own tissue. He continued offering the pack. Geez, way to be persistent. I reached out and took a tissue from the package.

" Thanks," I mumbled more to the ground than to him.

" My name's Jim," he offered, " and you are?"

Too shocked to talk, that's what I am. Confused. Angry. Stuck in a rut and spiraling out of control. Erin. Just tell him your name is Erin. Twice I opened my mouth and twice I shut it, afraid if I started talking I would never shut up. A year of isolation will do that to you.

Jim held out his hand slightly higher than needed and it was then I noticed the dark glasses and cane. Stupid! And I thought he was being pushy, geez! I took a deep breath, opened my mouth...

Three days later I was still talking. I told him everything. He laughed. I laughed. I cried. He offered me more tissues. Jim did manage to get a few words in through the conversation. He told me about losing his family and his sight to a drunk driver about three years ago. He told me about the adjustments he made to overcome his handicap. Jim explained how he handled the emotional turmoil brought on by the death of his wife and children. As he talked, I realized I was the lucky one. I realized how precious my life was to me. I came to understand that as my physical wounds were healing, my emotions were festering like a putrid canker, making me bitter and untrusting. I learned that I didn't like myself anymore. I cried some more and he offered more tissues.

It became a pattern for almost nine months. We would meet at the doctor's office and afterward, go to his place or mine and lather each other in emotional salve over cups of hot tea. It felt good to laugh. It felt good to do anything besides watch the television or sit at the computer. It felt almost like I had a life. Almost. Nothing is ever really this good, I kept reminding myself. I am the one that bad things happen to, silly. The sooner you remember that the better off you will be with all this Jim nonsense. Then he would call or knock on the door and I was off in fantasy land again with dreams of 2.5 kids and a dog. I had the feeling if there were any mirrors in my apartment, I would be checking myself as I ran to open the door. The mirrors left when my face left. I didn't need the constant reminder that the real world was so cruel. I giggled, thinking about Jim's statement that all women were vain deep down. I was one for the record books, I guess. Another one for the books was a solid month of no tears. Jim was unknowingly responsible for that little record. It seems laughter is good for the soul. It sure got rid of my demons; at least the mental ones.

I stepped off the elevator, whistling; a task that was physically impossible for me four months ago. I was almost cheerful as I signed in for my appointment. I hadn't heard from Jim in a few days and was looking forward to seeing him today. The last time we had spoke, he mentioned trying a dinner out in the real world. I balked at the idea and stood my ground when he told me the only way to overcome my fears was to tackle them head-on. Even a fool knows to get out of the way of oncoming traffic. Nope, he wasn't buying it and told me until I came to my senses, he would not be seeing me. Cruelty has a funny way of possessing one's tongue and mine was no exception. I retaliated with a sharp crack about him not being able to see me anyways. The phone line went dead.

I simmered and stewed for two days; even picked up the phone a couple of time. My stubbornness won and I slammed the handle back onto the receiver. The third day brought about a new train of thought. Maybe Jim was right. Maybe I should try to adjust and get back into living. If I could live through the bottom part of my face being blown to bits, I could do anything. I decided to announce my decision while groveling at his feet in the doctor's office. The joke was on me; Jim was not there.

" Erin. Erin? Did you hear me at all?" Dr. Webber had just suggested I start using a face cream at night to keep the skin from drying out and flaking. Thoughts of how the fool was dodging traffic were clustering in my brain and he wanted to talk about cosmetics. With a sigh, I nodded my consent to using the tube of cream he shoved into my hand. All I wanted to do was bury my head under a pillow and never look out from under it's familiar touch. I rode the elevator to the lobby and was stepping out when I remembered I forgot to set my next appointment. The receptionist usually had my reminder card waiting for me when my appointment was over. I turned to go back onto the elevator just as the door closed. I caught a glimpse of a woman standing at the doors in the mirrored wall at the back of the elevator. Cute, but lose the hat was my thought. I turned to look behind me and was startled to find myself alone. I slowly turned back to the elevator doors. No. No way. This can't be happening. Okay, Erin. You finally lost it. You're seeing people who aren't really there. Great, another trip to the shrink's office. Darn it, Jim! I was doing so good! Why did you have to push so hard? Why did I have to be so stubborn? Why did I have to be so cruel? Why does it matter where I eat dinner anyways? Stupid men. Stupid cream. Stupid...

The elevator doors opened. I glanced up at the back wall with that stupid mirror and gasped. She was there again, and she wasn't alone. Jim was standing right beside her. Okay, now I know I am losing it. I turned around and stopped dead. Jim was standing right beside me.

You know that strange feeling you get when you know something is happening but you just aren't sure what that something is? I was having it and it made me feel faint. My knees turned to jelly and I started going down. Jim grabbed me before I hit the floor. Jim. Jim in his dark glasses with his cane. Jim with his soft voice and deep laughter. Jim caught me before I fell. I stared up at him, completely lost as a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts scattered the last bit of sanity I had left. All I could do was cry. He held out a tissue.

A lot can happen in a year when you don't watch what's going on around you. Mirrors would have helped but my vanity (dang Jim's observations) won out on that one. The plastic and reconstructive surgeries had worked miracles on my face. Granted, I didn't recognize it at first but I thought it looked cute so I was going with that feeling. Jim's surgeries had helped too. His eyes were still sensitive to light so the dark glasses were necessary. Driving was not an option for him but he was okay with that restriction. The dinner out that he suggested was going to be the night of his big announcement. He told me after I blubbered my way through a tearful apology that he actually laughed when he hung up on me. He assumed I would call him back. When I didn't, he got worried. He went to Dr. Webber's office to see if I was okay and to invite me to dinner again. Naturally, I accepted. I also accepted the ring I found in the bottom of my wine glass. That was five years, 2.5 kids (one on the way) and a dog ago. Oh, and there is a mirror in every room of my house. I want to see what is going on all around me in every direction. To hell with oncoming traffic!