Authors: Gillian McCain
Dear Nobody (20 page)
Dear Nobody,
I hate it in the hospital. I don't have any dignity in hereâAT ALL. People just walk into my room whenever they want to. Shit, I'm lucky if they KNOCK. Nurses tell me to piss in a bowl, so they can save it for the doctorsâor they tell me to shit in a bowl. Doctors stick their hands up my shirt. They ask me about my periodâand if I'm sexually active. They tell me what and when to eat. They tell me to take deep breaths and give me fresh needles. Thank God I go home soon.
Dear Geoff,
you're a loser and a dickhead fag asshole.
There is no life after Mary Rose.
you'll be sorry babe.
Goodbye.
Dear Nobody,
I get out of the hospital tomorrow! Weeeee! I'm gonna take care of myself this time. No more drugs, no more drinking. I'm gonna make sure I never have to come back into this hell-hole ever again. I have a new perspective. I want to make real friends, have a real boyfriend and start over. I want to be well enough that I can start taking dance classes again and maybe move to New York. I want to become a famous dancer and get a rich boyfriend with a loft apartment and a white dog.
I think I can REALLY DO IT this time!
WINTER, 1999
Dear Nobody,
Wow! Three days out of the hospital and I'm already in love. His name is Jamie and he is absolutely perfect for me! Just one kiss from him got me higher than any bag of dope! (Cheaper, too). We met at the mall yesterday and he asked me for a cigarette. I said I didn't have one and he said that was cool, like he thought I wasn't putting on a front or something. We hung out all day. I shoplifted a CD from the Virgin store and gave it to him. I think that really impressed him. And then we went to the movies. Before my mom came to pick me up, he kissed me and asked for my number.
I really like him! I care about him a lot too. He's friendly, outgoing and physically he's so beautiful. I just knew it'd happen if I were patientâif I wanted it badly enough. I knew I'd meet my perfect guy. He's very sweet, but like most boys, a tad elusive. I haven't liked a guy this much for a very long time. I mean, he's not exactly poetry material (not yet, anyway) but I feel good about myself when I'm around him.
I met his friends yesterday and they are all older than I am. So I played the naïve youngster around themâpartly to be taken under their wing and partly to be babiedâand partly because I really DO need them to explain or direct me in some matters.
This girl I met a while ago knows him. They dated onceâlike a million years ago. She mentioned that he was a good guy, and that when they dated, he treated her like gold. I trust her, and I trust him, and my intuitions are rarely wrong (at least when my emotions are involved). I hope he understands that I wish only to offer him a pure “like” (not love, not now, it's WAY too soon). I told him that I've got a huge crush on him, and he said the same about me. Gosh, I like him so much; it kind of surprises me. Oh, he's so cute! I want to take things slowly because I want this to work out.
I think that there could be some major potential here. As long as I remember my social graces, and keep up my end of our relationships blueprints, things should be okay.
Man, I'm crushing on him so hardâand I love every minute of it! And that's the way a meaningful relationship should be!
Dear Nobody,
Okay, now this guy Jamie is starting to tell me that he really likes me, that I'm different, and that he “cares” about me. I guess I really like him too, but I know how feelings can beâespecially with guysâso I'm trying to distinguish the difference between his real feelings and his charm. I just really like him, and I want to believe him, but my self-protectiveness is admonishing me every time I want to gush over him in admiration. Maybe he does really feel this way? I don't want to be stupid and go ruining this by not believing him, or worrying too much if he's for real.
But what if he's really NOT for real?
Oh, to be sure. These things take time.
Dear Nobody,
I had to cancel my date with Jamie today because I got sick again. Will this world ever give me a break? I'm taking care of myself okayâI've met a boy I like and I have a few good friends. Why can't this last awhile? Why can't God let me have my cake and eat it tooâinstead of always holding everything at arms length? I just have to be honest with myself. I will never be the happy, healthy girl with the nice boyfriend and the perfect home. It's not in the cards for me.
This is my reality: this morningâjust like so many other morningsâI awake to the bitter veneration of nauseating medicine as the taste of a “treatment” fills my mouth and lungs. A loud angry machine squeezes my chest as it pounds, pushes and vibrates my lungsâevery morning of every day, only minutes after I wake up.
This is my reality: I live in hospitals, not homes. My own body, the temple of my soul, is my worst enemy. I live within it every painful moment of my life. I am held captive by its destructive viruses, deteriorating bacteria, and excruciating disease.
This is my reality: Vicious day in, and vicious day out, this is my fate. Coughing up blood from my lungs while I choke on sticky, painful plugs of fatal bacteria-infected mucus.
Every day of my depraved life, I am chastised for being still half-alive.
That is my reality.
Dear Nobody,
After I'm in the hospital for a while I start to feel really ugly. I mean, I know when you're sick you're not supposed to be like all alluring with oxygen prongs in your nose and tangled hair that you're too sick to brush and a swollen face from steroidsâbut still.
Know how on talk shows and shit all those psychiatrists talk about how adolescent girls feel self-conscious because they're not used to all the changes their bodies are going through yet? I guess I feel like that with my weight. When I'm not sick, I usually weigh 108 pounds, and when I'm sick around 97. Right now I weigh 101. It's hard to imagine 108 as my normal weight after spending weeks inside my 97 pound body. And after a while of being 108, it's hard to imagine myself as 97. My weight just changes so much so fast. When I had the temporary diabetes I lost almost ten pounds in eight days, and once I gained seven pounds overnight. Now, I'm supposed to have my weight up as high as I can and eat as much as I can.
I don't know, it's weird not having a definite body size or shape. I like to wear dresses, but when I buy a dress it may be too small or too big a week later. I usually end up buying non-fitted skirts, because they're easier to wear with different sizes than dressesâeven though one day they will just fit, then the next month go down to my knees or calves.
But that probably bothers me the least of anythingâ¦
Dear Nobody,
I'm getting out of the hospital today. They told me if I continue drinking and doing drugs I would cut my life expectancy in half. The doctor told me that if I preserve myself long enough I'd live to be thirty fiveâmaybe even forty. I could even stay healthy until a cure is found; which everyone says is going to be really soon. But I've been hearing that since I was seven years old.
And guess what?
I'm losing patience.
The doctor put me on bed rest for three days and upped my medication. I'm not getting much better, but my condition has stabilized. I don't care either way; I just want to be home.
