Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: CHILL (10/27/16)
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TITLE: The Polar Express Moves South | Previous Challenge Entry
By Marlene Bonney
11/01/16 -
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“ ‘NURSE STEVENS, I AM SORRY TO TELL YOU THAT THE PATHOLOGY REPORT CAME BACK AS POSITIVE FOR UTERINE CANCER. .’
AMANDA’S BRAIN STALLED ON THE “C” WORD AND, LIKE A PAUSED DVD MOVIE, SHE WAS FROZEN THERE IN TIME, NOT ABLE TO GRASP ANYTHING ELSE. HER MOTHER HAD THE SAME CANCER 10 YRS. YOUNGER THAN HERSELF AND THE HYSTERECTOMY AND FOLLOWING RADIATION THERAPY HAD SEVERE REPERCUSSIONS ON HER HEALTH DECADES LATER. THE NURSE'S INSIDES CHATTERED LIKE HER GRANDMOTHER’S LOOSE DENTURES AS SHE RETURNED HOME TO DIGEST WHAT SEEMED TO HER, A DEATH WARRANT.
SEVERAL WEEKS WENT BY IN A BLUR FOR AMANDA, THE FRIGID OUTDOOR TEMPERATURES MATCHING HER SHIVERING INNER CORE. ALTHOUGH SHE WAS CONSIDERED “CANCER-FREE” AFTER THE HYSTECTOMY, SHE COULD NOT GRASP OR ACCEPT THE FREEDOM OF RELEASE, CONSTANTLY GOING TO HER DOCTOR FOR REASSURANCE. SHE FUNCTIONED ON THE OUTSIDE, BUT IS WAS A FAÇADE, A MASQUERADE SHE MAINTAINED A YEAR LATER TO DISGUISE HER INTERNAL SHIVERING, AN ICY MASS THAT WAS AS EMOTIONALLY DAMAGING AS THE ELIMINATED CANCER. . .”
A slow chill crept from her head to her frigid heart, snaking down into her womb-less abdomen, as Amanda explained the upcoming procedures to her patients. She internalized their fears and apprehensions, storing them behind an igloo-chambered heart, the one place no psychiatrist could penetrate. These feelings were compartmentalized while she escorted the women to their room, trying to make them as comfortable as possible as they awaited their surgeons’ visits. The doctors would not tell them the nitty-gritty details of their recovery journey, of course. Otherwise, they would be tempted to run away like scurrying mice to escape the inevitable physical and mental anguish of the healing process. Post-surgery, Amanda’s mission was to reassure, comfort and ease her patients back to “normal.” Like the cancerous growths within them, the cavernous hospital wings’ halls spread every which-way and would become their eventual therapeutic walking route. Moments later, Amanda briskly entered the employees’ break room to warm up her numb, bloodless hands. She knew from experience that this was just a band-aid on the bigger issue of learning to release her popsicled core, but it would suffice for the remainder of her 12-hr. shift.
Two days later, Nurse Stevens was tending to her many patient’s needs, making her rounds, saving Corrine & Susan’s room for last. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but these two patients had repeatedly impressed her with their budding friendship and stalwart acceptance of their cancers. She hoped they would share their secret with her; some karma-related advice or yoga relaxation technique? The head nurse knocked lightly on their closed door and entered into another hemisphere. She was accustomed to pastoral staff visits to dying patients, but the scene before her was surreal. The curtain separating the two beds was all the way open, the two women clasping hands across the divide. Surrounding them was a bevy of visitors, also holding hands and praying over the ladies. Ordinarily, Amanda would have awkwardly backed out and into the hallway, but she was drawn to the group, a thirsty desert victim panting before a cool stream. She bowed her head along with the others and, for the first time in decades, prayed. . .
“A miracle happened within me that day in that crowded hospital room,” she later testified at Corrine & Susan’s Bible study, “LOVE in the person of Jesus melted my ice-entombed soul, fear and pain sliding off my bruised and bleeding heart like morning dew drops down a blade of grass. The ‘C’ word no longer has power over me as I daily laid down my burdens at the foot of the cross. . .”
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