31
One morning, mass awoke with such pain in her back that she was seriously worried. She managed to crawl out of bed and sat down in a chair in the living room. Her wrist was still sore. As soon as she knew the medical center was open, she called and made an appointment. It was urgent, she said; she was in a lot of pain and she needed painkillers. She got an appointment the following day but said nothing to Eddie. She didn’t want to worry him.
When she arrived, she checked in at reception and sat down to wait with a magazine. But she couldn’t concentrate and put it down again. After half an hour, she was called in. She sat down in the patient’s chair.
“Good morning, Thomasine,” her doctor said. “It’s a long time since you were last here. How’s Eddie?”
“Oh, you know how he is,” she said. “Stubborn as a three-year-old and still on disability. But he’s good company. Without him, I’d be all alone.”
He pulled up her medical records on the computer screen and read through the last consultation notes. “So, how can I help you today?”
“I’ve got these terrible pains in my back. And for some reason, my right wrist is sore as well.” She put her arm down on his desk, and he lifted it gently and examined it carefully.
“No swelling,” he confirmed. “Have you fallen or hit it in any way?”
“Not at all. I’m still steady on my feet; I’m only fifty-six, you know,” she exclaimed.
“Quite,” he said and nodded. “Have you lifted anything heavy?”
Mass started to laugh. “I’ve got Eddie. And he’s as strong as an ox.”
“How long has it been hurting?” he asked.
“Quite some time now. It wasn’t much to begin with, but it’s gradually gotten worse.”
“I see,” he said and paused for thought. Then he turned back to the screen and added some notes in the records.
“And otherwise?” He looked at her. She was sitting with her handbag on her lap and looked as though she wanted to take flight.
“Well, I’ve got some bruises,” she had to admit. “There seem to be more and more of them and I’ve had them a long time.”
“Where are they?”
“On my thighs. I notice them when I shower. And I have no idea where they come from.”
“Let me have a look,” he said.
Mass stood up and pulled down her pants. She was shy, but she knew the doctor. She had been his patient for many years, and she really needed to find out what was wrong. He put his finger on the bruises one by one.
“Are they tender?”
“I can’t feel anything, that’s the strange thing.”
She pulled up her pants again. The doctor sat and pondered; she wanted him to say something, but he was just silent.
Then he took out a small flashlight and rolled his chair around so he could get closer and shined it in her eyes. First one, then the other. Mass had no idea what he was looking for.
“We need to take some tests,” he said. “You’ll have to sit and wait outside the lab. We need to check your blood. And I also want you to go to the main hospital for some x-rays. I’ll send a referral and you’ll get an appointment in the mail.”
“Will I have to wait long?”
“No,” he said promptly. “I’ll say it’s urgent.”
“Is it urgent?” she asked, horrified. “Should I be worried?”
“Probably not,” he said and smiled. “But we need to find out what it is. And in the meantime, I’ll prescribe tramadol, which is good for back pain.”
She took the prescription and thanked him.
“Say hello to Eddie,” he said as she got up. And she promised to do so.
“I don’t see much of him,” he commented.
“Eddie’s never ill,” Mass replied.
She took a number outside the lab; there were obviously a lot of people in front of her and she found it impossible to relax now. When she was finally shown in, she didn’t dare ask about anything. But when they were done, she did ask if they could send a letter when the results were ready.
“We’ll send the results to your doctor,” the receptionist said, “and he will contact you.”
She thanked him for his help and went out to the car. She stopped at the pharmacy to pick up the painkillers. When she got home, Eddie asked where she had been.
“I had a few errands,” she said. “You know, the bank and things. And the post office.”
“Jeez,” Eddie said and whistled. “Does it take that long to go to the bank?”
She didn’t answer. Instead she went into the kitchen and out of habit glanced down into the corner, but Shiba was gone. Neither of them mentioned the dog anymore.
Only a week later, she got a letter from the hospital with an appointment. When she got there, she made her way through the main entrance and took the elevator to the x-ray department, full of hope. This time she didn’t have to wait before she was shown in and the examination didn’t take long. They took x-rays of her back and wrist.
Once again, the results would be sent to her doctor. She took Eddie out for a Chinese meal later in the afternoon. She hadn’t told him about her visits to the doctor and hospital yet. She kept telling herself that it was nothing serious. In any case, the tramadol was working so well that she almost forgot the pain. And when her doctor contacted her to say that all the results had come in, she was certain that it would soon all be sorted.
He sat with his hands in his lap and looked at her. He took off his glasses.
“I’m going to explain to you what we’ve found so far,” he said, “but I’m afraid you’re going to have to go for further tests at the hospital.”
Mass didn’t dare respond. Her eyes were glued to the doctor, and she was gripping her handbag so hard that her knuckles were white.
“We have found something in the blood tests and x-rays,” he explained. “And when I examined your eyes, I saw that you had jaundice.”
“What?” She stared at him, nonplussed.
“Yes,” he confirmed. “The whites of your eyes are yellow. You perhaps haven’t noticed yourself.”
“What does that mean?” she asked.
“That’s what we need to find out, and that’s why I’m referring you for more tests. But there’s something else as well, and this will probably surprise you. It turns out that you have a fracture at the base of your wrist. Radius. And I initially thought osteoporosis, as it’s a common symptom and injury.”
Mass closed her eyes in dismay. “I’ve heard about women who get fractures just by turning over in bed,” she said. “Or banging into something, like a door or piece of furniture.”
“Yes,” the doctor said hesitantly. “That’s right. But I’m not entirely sure that is what’s wrong with you. When is the pain in your back the worst?”
“When I’m lying in bed. Not when I’m moving around. It seems so illogical.”
“Fractures can actually happen spontaneously,” he told her. “Which might be the case here.”
“But how can that happen? Is it an illness?”
“I don’t want to comment on that, really; I’ll leave it to the experts,” he said. “I’ll give you a referral. They’ll probably take some more blood tests at the hospital. Ultrasound, an MRI, and a CT scan. And maybe a couple of biopsies.”
The worry was eating at her now. What was wrong with her, and should she tell Eddie? She decided not to say anything until she knew for certain.
When she got home, she tried to distract herself with domestic chores, but it was impossible to concentrate. She sat down with the paper but didn’t read it; she ate some food but didn’t taste it; she turned on the TV but it was nothing more than images that flickered by. She hardly slept that night and took more and more tramadol. Even though it would soon be spring, she couldn’t muster any enthusiasm.