“She can’t see, Dr. York, and with the hole from the tracheotomy, she can’t speak yet,” Shakti proclaims, addressing Dr. York.
The smell of blood permeates the air around him, and I immediately tense. I shift in my bed, anxiety swelling in my throat.
“Uh, Dr. York, why do you smell like blood?” one of the boys asks the doctor.
He chuckles. “Occupational hazard. A patient bit me. I thought I cleaned up well enough before entering the room.”
“I can, uh, still smell it,” Jeremy shares. He is the more vocal of the two so far. Justin mainly addresses me through my mind.
I hear water running, and then paper crinkles.
He washed his hands. You’re fine, Justin narrates. I nod.
“If you boys don’t mind, I’ll have you leave the room while I examine Little One.” Footsteps shuffle across the floor.
Anxiety seizes me again. I don’t want to be left alone in the room with him.
Relax. Mom is here. She and the doctor will explain to you out loud what he is doing. You’re perfectly safe. Jeremy and I will be outside, listening. Footsteps leave the room, and the door softly closes.
We’re right outside, Justin reassures me.
“You’ve made a connection with the boys already, I see. That’s good. You need support. It will help you heal.”
I nod my head, listening to their shoes scuff the linoleum floor in the hallway.
“I’m just moving out of the way, sweetie. I’m right here,” Shakti says and rests her hand on my foot.
The doctor approaches the side of my bed.
“I’m going to start examining you now. My hands are a little cold. I just washed them.”
I nod, indicating that I’m ready.
“So, Anders informs me that your name is Jessica. I originally assumed your name started with a G. Perhaps it’s an initial of your last name,” he declares.
“Dr. York, where did you find that information? I wasn’t aware,” Shakti asks.
“Oh, I wasn’t completely sure so I didn’t mention it. The letter G was written on the tag of an article of clothing she wore when she arrived. It was barely legible,” he replies.
The letter G seems familiar. It feels almost right. It also feels like I hated it.
A chuckle echoes in my head. One of the twins teases,Little G, I like it. I think I’ll call you that, instead of Jessica. I roll my eyes.
“I’m sorry. Is everything okay?” the doctor inquires.
Startled, I quickly nod.Great! I almost got into trouble. Thanks a lot, dude.
I hear laughter from both of them this time.
The exam lasts only a few minutes. The doctor asks yes or no questions so I can easily communicate with him. I have difficulty concentrating on the doctor, though, because the boys’ thoughts overwhelm me. I can’t filter them out.
Shakti and Dr. York discuss the various surgeries I will need. One to repair the hole in my throat. Laser eye surgery to fix myvision. Orthodontic surgery for my teeth. I try to pay attention, but I don’t quite understand all the words he uses. Shakti seems to have everything under control. She asks questions and agrees or disagrees with his suggestions.
I feels like her child, not some stranger who just appeared out of nowhere. However, I am afraid to hope that I could stay with her, especially after the disappointment from last night.
Four weeks pass, and the surgeries don’t go as well as everyone hoped. I am severely anemic from losing so much blood. The doctor mentions my body is malnourished so healing also takes longer than for any standard shifter, especially one who hasn’t transitioned yet.
Although the hole in my throat was repaired, the initial incision damaged my vocal cords, and scar tissue developed, preventing me from creating sound. They sought out a specialist to determine if they could rectify the damage. Otherwise, I won’t be able to talk ever again.
