Saline water gurgles over my right shoulder sounding like an aquarium. In the next room a television drones on as someone wins the Showcase Showdown. The mere sound of a game show makes me nauseous, transports me back forty years to sick days home from school.
The smell of hospital food is unmistakable, sickness and sorrow stirred into chicken broth. In the corridor a nurse bellows, “I hated being pregnant—worst experience ever!”
Some women love being pregnant.” Another responds, shocked at her confession.
“Only crazy women!” She continues down the hallway, skipping Gene’s room. The lunch cart needs a squirt of W-D 40.
From my fake leather chair I murmur, “I was one of the crazies.”
Gene doesn’t reply.
I was one of the crazies.
