Room 1404

I lazily watched a bird dip in the sky and out of sight in front of the setting sun. I coughed and held the oxygen mask over my face as I breathed in deeply. It’s not fair. I watched as another bird flew back in my view through the window. It seemed to hover over a power line for a few seconds before it veered left, back out of my view through the window. I wondered briefly if it was the same bird I had just been watching. It doesn’t matter if it was the same bird.

“Raya.” I stilled myself and gently closed my eyes to mimic sleeping. I don’t want her here. I closed my eyes tighter, I hope she’ll leave if she thinks I’m asleep.

“Raya, I know you’re awake.” Of course, she knows I’m awake. I opened one eye and peer at Nurse Ratched standing next to my bed frowning at me, not that I could see the frown through her powder blue face mask but her pointed eyebrows gave her away. “I need to check your I.V.”

I groaned and pulled my arm away from my body so she could check the needle site. The coldness of her hands through her gloves are probably the only pleasant thing about her coming to bother me every couple of hours. Mom told me I should always be nice to the doctors and nurses that treat me and they’ll treat me well in kind. I don’t think her mom told her that, she seemed to relish in making this whole situation as miserable as possible for me.

“Doctor Cooper is going to be making the rounds to check on you in a bit,” she said as she fiddled with the bag. “Why don’t you try to buck up? It’s getting kind of depressing in here.”

“I’ll be more likely to ‘buck up’ if I wasn’t dying.” She’s so annoying, I wish she would go bother someone else. I just want to wallow in my misery without her commentary.

“You don’t know that you’re dying, why don’t you hold back on the melodramatics until you talk to Doctor Cooper. I’ll be back to check on you in a bit.” She pulled her gloves off and disposed of them in the can before using the hand sanitizer mounted on the wall and left the room. I hate her.

———————

“Raya, come on, don’t do it.” Lori yanked my arm but I just brushed her arms off me. She’s such a spoilsport.

“Don’t be such a baby, Lori.” I walked over to the blue Igloo cooler and pulled the Jagermeister out. I’m partying tonight if she doesn’t want to then she needs to leave me alone so I can enjoy myself. I’m only young once, I have to enjoy this time before I finish school and have to get my act together.

“Do you want another shot? I’m going to make another one.” I poured them both but when I tried to hand one to Lori, she just crossed her arms and turned away from me. Whatever. I took both shots and walked up behind my boyfriend Ricky so I could dance with him.

“Raya, you’re being a dumb bitch, I’m calling an Uber and getting out of here.” I don’t care, she needs to stop bossing me around. She’s my sister, not my keeper. I stomped over to her and ripped her phone out of her hands.

“Go home then, I’m twenty-five, not twelve. I don’t need a babysitter.” I felt an arm reach around my waist and pull me up against him so I arched my head away from him so he could reach my neck but he used his other hand to pull Lori’s phone out of my hands and give it back to her.

“I’ll make sure she gets home all right, Lori. Scout’s honor.” Lori looked doubtful but took her phone and left without another word.

“I don’t think she believed you, babe.” I giggled as I felt his hands both running across my body. I turned around to put my arms behind his head.

“She shouldn’t,” he laughed, “I was never a boy scout.”

He pulled me over to the open door of the garage, next to a red tool chest on wheels. There was a man sitting in the cheap lawn chair, his sleeve pulled up as Ricky’s cousin Carlos finished coloring in a koi fish tattoo on his bicep.

“You ready, baby?” I nodded and leaned against him, swaying with the beat of the music, although the lyrics of the song were in Spanish, I couldn’t tell you what song it was. Earlier in the evening, we were pre-gaming and in one of our drinking games, I agreed that I would let him pick my first tattoo if he got a matching one.

The man with the fish vacated his seat so I sat down in his place. I watched the man admire his tattoo in the mirror propped up on the wall. I turned back to Ricky who was talking to Carlos in Spanish. The alcohol was starting to make me move in slow motion, I giggled as I turned my head back and forth a few times, each time it took a little longer to orient myself.

“You ready, babe?” Ricky was talking to me. I gave him a thumbs up and he laughed. Carlos asked me to roll my pants leg up and then he started swabbing the side of my calf to clean it. Ricky picked out a little octopus the size of a small plum to match the one he had on his left arm, it is the focal point of his sleeve.

Thanks to the generous libations offered to me, I barely felt the needle at all, and the tattoo turned out great, like a miniature version of Ricky’s.

———————

Mama,

Do you remember that summer we spent at Grandma’s house in Mexico? I think I was eleven or twelve. We spent most of the summer at the playa eating frozen strawberries from Gigante and rolling down the sand dunes. I think that was the happiest time of my life.

I never used to think about it. It’s strange how much you don’t think about the good times when you’re too busy living life.

Mama, I don’t know what happened. It’s like my life was this specific road, I was going to go to college, fall in love, get married and have a family. Somehow it’s like my life took a sharp turn down this other road and I just don’t understand what happened.

I knew when I got pregnant with Patrick that my life would be a little different than I thought it would be. It wasn’t a landslide but gradually piece by piece my future fell apart. I dropped out of school to have Patrick, and then I met Ricky and got pregnant with Cato and now I’m left trying to figure out why everything I do is wrong. It really feels like everything I touch falls apart. The best thing I’ve ever done is be a mom to the boys.

I wish I could go back to that point when everything was so much simpler and easier. It feels like everything has become so much more complicated now. I have to think about what’s best for Cato and Patrick now.

How are they going to be after I’m gone? Are they going to grow up and know how much I loved them? Will Cato still sing when he’s happy? Or will Patrick close himself off from his brother and suffer alone?

They’re too young to be alone, and it’s all my fault. Make sure they know that I would have stayed with them if I could have figured out how.

I love you, Mama. I’m sorry that I didn’t take better care of myself. I love you.

Love, Raya.

PS, take them to Grandma’s house when they get older, I want them to experience the same specialness that I did when I was their age.

———————

“Mommy! Mommy, Patrick won’t play with me, he’s being mean!” Cato threw himself down on the sofa cushion next to me, almost taking his eye out on the remote control sticking out between the cushions and sobbed. I put my Sudoku book down on the coffee table and pulled Cato’s little body up in my lap.

“Baby, Patrick is tired, I am too,” I pulled his little warm body up so his face was in the crook of my neck. “Why don’t you lay down with me on the couch and snuggle and take a little nap and we’ll get popsicles when we wake up okay?” Cato murmured sounds of agreement and quieted his crying.

I have been feeling like shit for the past few weeks. Since both Patrick and Cato have been sick too, I figure it’s probably just the flu running through the house but I scheduled us all doctor’s appointments tomorrow morning. Thank god for Medicaid, or I wouldn’t be able to afford for myself to go if I had to pay for their appointments myself.

Lori was supposed to babysit for me tonight if I were feeling better but since I still feel like crap, I need to remember to call her and cancel. On the plus side, that means I won’t have to pay her, although on the down side, it also means I’ll need to ask Patrick’s school for an extension to pay for the semester’s tuition. Again.

“Mama.” Patrick is standing by the hallway in his pajamas pulling his blanket around his shoulders looking upset. “I threw up in the bathroom.”

“Oh, baby,” I pulled Cato off my chest and put him down on the couch where I was lying, ignoring his cries of protest. “Are you okay? Did you get it in the toilet?”

“Yes. My tummy still hurts and I don’t feel good.”

“I know you don’t, buddy. Let’s go back to the bathroom in case you get sick again.” I usher him back down the hall to the bathroom. “Sit here on the floor by the potty with your blanket, I’m going to go get you something to drink and a pillow in case you want to take a nap.”

Poor baby, I hate dealing with vomit. It’s one of the things that makes me wish I had a partner who could help me with all of this. Although Cato’s dad was always a baby when he was sick, whining and crying more than Patrick or Cato ever did. Perhaps it was better this way that I wasn’t trying to care for four sick people than just the two boys and myself.

In the kitchen, I spied my cell on the countertop and grabbed it. Maybe their pediatrician can fit them in today instead of the morning. I’ll give their office a call and get the boys dressed if they can fit us in. Cato comes running into the kitchen, almost running straight into me.

“Mommy, Patrick is throwing up again!”

“Cato, stay in the living room and watch Spongebob. I’m going to go and check on your brother. I don’t want him getting you sick too.”

“Is he going to be okay?” Cato is so sweet.

“Of course he’s going to be okay. He’s just a little sicky, he’ll feel better soon.” I pushed past Cato and rushed back down the hallway with the bottle of Gatorade and a sleeve of saltines. I hoped he didn’t hear me mumble to myself. “We might have to go to the hospital if I can’t figure out how to bring your fevers down.”

———————

I can’t breathe.

I’m not ready for this. I grab at my chest and push myself back against the bed. The blue siren light on the wall above my bed is going off and people are rushing into my room at me.

I close my eyes and tears slip out. I can’t believe this is where it all ends. All the doctors and nurses around me are reaching every which way and saying things but I don’t hear them.

Doctor Cooper told me earlier that my immune system is working in overdrive and starting to cause damage to the rest of my body. I thought he said I would have more time. My last conscious thought before I fall into the darkness is the unfairness of it all.

———————

“Raya, I’m not going to beat around the bush, okay? When we did the cheek swab, we noticed some antibodies indicative of a serious condition, which is why we gave you a blood test which confirmed our initial conclusions.

“Raya, you are HIV positive.”

I was breathing carefully to let out no visible emotions but I couldn’t help the shallow gasp.

“Doctor,” I stared at the CPR poster on the wall, “do you think I can have a few minutes alone? To process?”

One Mississippi.

“Of course,” she took my chart with her to the door and then turned to say one more thing before she slipped out, “Raya, this might feel like a death sentence but it’s not. Science has come a long way and with treatment, in all likelihood, you will live a long healthy life. Take a few minutes and then I’ll come back so we can discuss your treatment options.”

Two Mississippi.

I closed my eyes and felt the hot burn of tears run down my face. I feel so ashamed. How could this happen to me? I have always used condoms with my birth control. A contaminated blood transfusion? A shady garage tattoo? Can you get HIV from a toilet seat?

The shame and guilt of having an incurable disease weighed heavily on my chest, between the crying and the shame, making it very hard for me to breathe.

Three Mississippi.

——————–

“-Please comfort her in her suffering and heal her as you will, Lord.”

I’m not dead. I open my eyes cautiously, I’m so tired and my lungs are burning. There’s someone holding my hand and praying for me. I cough inside the mask on my face and she turns to look at me.

Holy smokes, it’s Nurse Ratched.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Raya. Don’t try to speak, we had to intubate you so you could breathe.” She lets my hand go and looks at the monitor next to my bed. “We almost lost you for a minute there but you held on. I told Doctor Cooper you were a fighter.”

“She didn’t have to tell me that, I’ve always known you were a fighter,” Doctor Cooper walked around briskly to the other side of my bed and looked down on me. His white face mask hid the bottom half of his face but I heard rumors he hid a bushy white mustache in there to match his bushy white eyebrows.

“So here’s your update, you went into respiratory distress from the inflammation in your lungs due to the virus. What I’m going to do is put you on ECMO, I’m hopeful that your immune system will get on top of the virus before it starts causing further damage to the rest of your body. Let’s not worry about what may happen until we get to that point okay? Nurse Hart.”

He offered me a thumbs up and Nurse Ratched, er or, Nurse Hart a nod, so I returned his gesture with a weak thumbs-up of my own. I’m so tired. Nurse Hart patted my arm a couple of times before she followed him out.

I’m so tired. I look around and see my phone on the bed by my leg. I have a few missed texts and two missed calls from my parents. I need to send them a reply so they don’t worry. I open the group text and then I’m struck by the thought, “What am I supposed to tell them?”

None of what Doctor Cooper said is good news, just not the worst news. This is the worst, it’s not enough that this is probably going to kill me, but it’s extremely contagious which means I’m alone. The boys can’t be here, or my parents, or my siblings. I’m alone and probably going to die. I close out of the app and put my phone down.

I hope the boys aren’t worried about me. I can’t help the tears form in my eyes when I think about them growing up without me. I say a quick prayer in my head and ask God to save them from growing up without their mom. I don’t think he works in bargains but I make sure he knows I’d do anything if I can get better so I can go home with them.

My eyes are growing heavier. I think I’ll just rest for a little while.

———————

“Jen, did you hear about that cruise ship that got quarantined?”

My coworker at the next register turns to me with her phone in hand and tosses her ponytail over her shoulder, neither of us has anyone in our checkout lines, it’s a slow Tuesday morning so I’m not going to stress about straightening my candy display.

“What? No, I didn’t hear anything about that? Why did they get quarantined?” Jen spends a lot of her time making videos for Instagram and Snapchat and was watching a clip of someone dancing on her phone that was replaying the same hip gyration over and over.

“Apparently people have been getting really sick, they think it’s some sort of virus but apparently it’s bad enough that they’re preventing people from docking and leaving the ship.”

“Whoa, can you imagine? What about the people who aren’t sick?”

“I think they’re stuck on the boat too, at least until they make sure they aren’t sick.” An older lady with half a cart of groceries is coming down my lane. I greet her and start checking out her items, after which I take her cash and make her change, she doesn’t say anything throughout the transaction until I hand her the receipt in which I hear her mumble a quiet thanks.

“Can you imagine? Like, how cool would it be if they have all the sick people quarantined on one part of the boat and everyone else is on an extended vacation? I wish I was on vacation right now.” Jen’s phone is now propped against the screen of the register while she watches herself practice the dance she was just watching. It’s incredible how fast she learned that. I could practice that dance for a week straight and still not be able to do it as smoothly and accurately as Jen.

“Yeah, a vacation sounds great right now.” I reach down under the counter and pop the tab on my can of soda and take a long swig. It’s lucky that all of that is happening so far away, if it were any nearer to here my Mom would probably shove me in a plastic bubble with my immune system as compromised as it is.

“What are you doing, Jen?”

“Some people have been commenting on my Instagram that I should check out this app called Tik Tok. Apparently these little twenty-second clips are blowing up everywhere right now. I’m going to do one of these dances here and post it. I’m just trying to make sure I’ve got it down. I don’t want to post it and it’s wrong. See, look.” She hands me her phone and I watch a couple of girls do a synchronized dance to a song.

“That’s cool.” I hand her back her phone and then reach for my soda can for another drink. “I bet you can do that easily, huh? Are you making one now?”

“No, I’m going to wait till I get off work and can glam myself up, don’t nobody want to see my raggedy self in this ugly-ass vest.” I laugh with her and don’t think about it again until she texts me a video clip of her dance later that night.

———————

Dear Patrick and Cato,

I love you both more than life itself, I’m sorry I have to leave you. You boys are the absolute best thing that I’ve ever done in my life, I hope you never forget that. I wish I could have stayed here with you both but once I got sick, I couldn’t get better enough to stay.

I am writing this letter to you because I asked your Grandma to let me be the one to explain to you both how I got so sick. You’re both too young to understand now but I’m hoping when you read this that you know I never meant to hurt you.

I made some choices when I was younger that had lasting consequences on me. I didn’t want you to be frightened for me about something that may have never happened, but then there was the Coronavirus pandemic and I was vulnerable. It’s something that no one saw coming.

When I was younger, I did a lot of dumb things, like texting and driving, sneaking out to go to parties and not doing my schoolwork when I should have been. I hope you both are doing the best you can in school because you can’t go back and try again, and what you do in school matters if you work hard and do well you have so many more options than if you barely pass.

I want you both to promise that you’ll be good for Grandma and Grandpa, I know they’ll be good parents to you because they were good parents to me.

Patrick, you don’t always have to be quiet, you have the right to have big feelings about things and express them big too. I know you’ll work hard because you always have, but find something that you love to do, play guitar or learn to surf or give your Grandpa a thrill and ask him to teach you how to fix cars. Life is too short to not love what you do.

Cato, my silly boy, I hope you still sing. I never tired of hearing you sing your Barney songs to me, because I always knew that if you were singing you were happy. Be a good boy and help where you can, your joy is contagious and people need your kind of energy in their lives.

Look after each other, I don’t want you to be your brother’s keeper but I do want you guys to remember that you are family, forgive each other for the little and big things. I can guarantee that you’ll have some huge fights but never stay mad at each other for long. You guys are going to be more than best friends and more than family, you’re brothers. No one else in this world will understand you like your brother.

I love you guys, more than the breath in my lungs or the beat of my heart. I love you a thousand times I love you.

———————

The letter was unsigned with a smear of ink across the bottom where the pen fell and bled on the page a bit. She didn’t mean to read the letter, but it was open face up on her lap and she had to pick up all of the patient’s belongings so they could be kept for the mandatory two weeks until the risk of spreading the coronavirus germs on them was avoided.

Nurse Maggie Hart was tired. Physically and emotionally drained. She has been working so many hours trying to help where she can, praying for every patient she came into contact with and every doctor she worked with.

Raya was a special patient, so like Maggie’s younger sister that it was hard not to be affected every time they interacted with snark that was as easy to come to Raya as it was for Rachel. But Rachel was safe at home with her kids in self-isolation and Raya was on her way down to an overcrowded morgue.

Maggie said a quick prayer for Raya’s family and put the letter in the envelope addressed to the boys that were underneath the letter she picked up off the bed. Sealing the bag of belongings she took it to the storage closet that had newly been dubbed Long Term Patient Storage.

It was awful to see how many bags were on the shelves, and even worse to think about how many more shelves there were waiting to be filled. Maggie’s pager buzzed and she checked it quickly.

Time for the next patient waiting for a bed to be moved to Room 1404.