I walked into the hospital early Monday morning. My knee had been hurting for months, since I played that touch football game I knew I shouldn't. I wasn't quite hobbling but I constantly knew my knee was there for months. The result of my mind saying zig right but my body zagging left. A trip to the doctors, a couple of x-rays a rearranged schedule and here I was, go ahead doc... do your thing.
The nurse that took my temperature was a knock out. Not the glamour blonde beauty that you'd see in bad B grade movies, but the beauty that you see rarely in day to day people. Fine brown hair pulled back into a loose bun (never my favorite hair style but somehow she made it work), deep brown eyes that sparkled with beautiful eyelashes, long skinny fingers and trim hands. The nurses uniform didn't do her body justice. The curves were there but were muted, difficult to determine, but she had gorgeous legs with trim ankles in her hospital white sneakers.
"Hi, how are you today?" were the first words I spoke to her.
"I'm doing great and you?"
"A little nervous to be honest." As badly as I wanted to give her some studly response I couldn't find it in me to lie to her. I'd known her for exactly 6.5 seconds and already I found I couldn't lie to her. I have often wondered why.
"Nothing to be nervous about" was her response with that distant I don't really see you smile that all nurses must be required to practice in the mirror a million times before they get their degrees. "you'll do fine..." the completion of that non committal attitude.
"...said the proctologist as he bent the patient over the table" I muttered as I began to unbutton my shirt and I noticed her head jerk, her eyes looked at me for the first time as something other than another piece of equipment, truly looked at me as a person, and I saw a smile, a real one, start to curl the corners of her mouth.
"What's your name?"
"Spinosa"
"Spinosa Smith? Spinosa Jones?"
"No, you goof, Connie Spinosa" she said, actually starting to laugh a little. She had a captivating smile, sensuous lips, white teeth, not quite perfect, more the natural perfect, not the orthodontist perfect and I found that I really wanted to make her smile as much as I could.
She was writing on her clip board as I tried to engage her in conversation, I got a few uhuhs and mmmm's as she took my temperature, blood pressure weight and height. "you need to get into the hospital gown for me"
"for you anything" my smart ass reply, but again she gave me that look. It was a softening of her eyes, a softening of the slight concentration wrinkles at the corners of her eyes that let me know she knew that I was actually human. Those deep brown eyes just seemed to suck me up.
"I promise not to watch your ass as you walk down the corridor in your hospital gown Mr. John" and I saw a true smile on her face.
"Would that be because you're not interested? Or is it just because you're trying to be decent?"
"Oh, only because I feel it's only fair, if you show me yours I'd have to show you mine" and a deeper laugh... God I liked to make this woman laugh.
I knew I needed to take a chance, if I didn't, in three minutes I'd walk out, or she would leave and I'd never see her again. "I'll make you a deal... you can look if you'll go out to lunch with me when I get back on my feet."
"You're not really in a position to argue" and she laughed as my expression fell... "I'll take your number and call you when you've had some time to recoup, we'll discuss it then, Mr. John."
I couldn't figure this out. I had known her for only minutes, not enough dialog to fill two pages but I was definitely smitten with this woman. I was sad to see her stand as the gas passer walked in the room. I noticed a subtle change in her as she stood, now the consummate professional, the staid business oriented nurse, back to the looking through you instead of at you.
A short interview with the Dr. and it was time to go to the operating room.
"Come on Mr. John I'll take you to the operating room now."
"Call me John and I'll walk if you don't mind"
"Oh no you couldn't do that, it would make the Dr. feel funny if you could walk when you came in the operating room but had to be wheeled out... that's kind of backwards don't you think?"
I couldn't argue with her logic so I tried my last ditch effort to keep my dignity and walk to the operating room... "but you'll miss the show and I'll never get that lunch"
"Don't worry about the lunch" but her tone had turned conspiratorial as the anesthesiologist walked back in the room. "We're late, Lets go" he said and sped out of the room.
"here hold this for me" and she handed me the bag of saline solution as she started to wheel me down the hall. I dropped the bag on my lap, (what did I know right?) and she pushed me into the operating room. They strapped me down to the operating table and I looked up as they hung the bag on those little hook things and I said "uh oh"
The doctor jerked towards me and said "what" in an order giving, barking tone of voice.
"Look" I said trying to motion with my head to the bag hanging down,"the blood's running up the tube"
"Mr. John, there are two things we don't say in either a cockpit or an operating room and they are 'uh oh' and 'oh shit'... now good night." And with a smile, he put a needle into the hose hanging from the bag attached to my arm and my vision went blurred as he faded from view...
My eyes opened to see those hospital lights, the florescent ones with the tiles that we all counted the holes in when we were in elementary school and had to lay on the nurses bed for some feigned math test evading illness or another. The oxygen running into my nose felt so good, smelled so good I just lay there breathing it for a minute or two, I felt so tired, I just wanted to sleep again, and drifted off....
My eyes slowly came into focus, to see, leaning over my bed... Connie....
"wha.... Wha.... What are you doing here... " My voice was just not working... and fuck, my knee hurt, but still the only thing that mattered to me was that I was seeing her again...
"I was just finishing my shift and thought I'd check in on you"
The emotional warmth that spread through me at that time was incredible. I had been widowed a couple of years ago, spent my time working and tending to the kids and had no one that was concerned about my welfare for all of that time. The thought that someone could think of me as something other than daddy or boss was so.... I don't know, deep I guess... It had to be deep, it couldn't be the massive doses of feel good juice they had given me could it? This was the deep quandary that was going through my mind as I dropped back into the gray...
When I woke up it was dark outside. I was in my hospital bed, my knee was down to a dull throb and I had to pee... I mean I really had to pee... Really really had to pee. I knew with my knee like this I just didn't have the time to deal with this... I looked in the drawer in the nightstand next to my bed and there it was, the holy grail, the pitcher of salvation, not made of gold, or expensive metal but of basic plastic, a piss bottle.
That finished, I was about to push the button when to my surprise in walks.... Yep, you guessed it, Connie. "Wha... what are you doing here....?" The voice still wasn't working so great and, apparently neither was the brain. "What, did they give you a frontal lobotomy? Is that all you can say?"
The fuzzy memories of the recovery room came back to me...
"It's good to see you..." and I started to think of my appearance. There is absolutely no dignity in laying in a bed, mussed hair, no underwear, and a full piss bottle hanging on the rail of the bed. I tried to sit up a little straighter, tried to straighten my hair.
"You're getting released today, I checked your chart."
"Oh, will I see you again before I leave?"
"Probably not, I have to start my shift"
"Will you call me from time to time?"
"I'll think about it" her noncommittal response. What was the deal with this woman? She was cool, aloof, but she kept coming back... This was the longest conversation I'd had with an object of desire since I lost the wife. I knew I couldn't be an object of desire to her in my fucked position, I really felt defenseless. I couldn't understand why she was interested in me after only a few minutes of light surface conversation.
"I've gotta get to work... I'll talk to you soon..." and she gave me a concerned, seemingly emotional smile. I just couldn't figure this woman out. What did I know about her? What did she know about me? Not much.
A few days later, resting on the sofa bed watching TV where I had set up my recovery station, the phone rang. When I picked it up I heard her voice. I had been fantasizing about her almost constantly. What was it that she had that so intrigued me? I just couldn't put my finger on it.
"hey Mr. John, it's Connie, ummm from the hospital?" as if wondering if I remembered her.
