Day 3

            The first thing I noticed as I woke up was that it was still dark out. The second thing I noticed was that I was practically swimming in a pool of my own sweat. At least, I hoped it was sweat. Sitting up slowly, comforter and clothes clinging to me uncomfortably, I made my way to the bathroom. As I looked in the mirror, my eyes were highlighted by a red, puffy halo and the hair at the back of my neck was slick around my ears and nape. I smelled the air once and, thankfully, didn’t notice the bitter stench of piss. I must have had a nightmare. Nightmares had become an increasingly normal part of my routine though I rarely remembered them.

Sighing, I stripped out of my clothes and opted for a shower. Getting in the shower, I was mildly disgusted by the fact that this was my first shower since coming to Korea. I wondered why I hadn’t gotten one earlier. I even regretted that I hadn’t taken a shower sooner because the water pressure was wonderful – like tiny people dancing across my back (a weird visual but the picture I got nonetheless) - and the shampoo and body wash accompanying it smelled delicious – honey comb and vanilla. It was then that my unfortunate habit of clumsiness decided to show its ugly, disasterously ugly, face.

The Unheard Tale of a Bump on the Head

One drop of soap onto the floor

One misplaced foot

and afraid, a teenage girl finds wings

Only to discover they were clipped

“!” I yelled before I could stop myself, not because I was in a lot of pain – likely shock – but because there was the telltale drip of blood seeping into my eyes and then my hands and then leaving a rusty path down into the drain. Not exactly the ideal condition to be in. Quickly turning the faucet off from where I sat on the floor, I brought myself to my feet and a rush of dizziness swept through me. Stabilizing myself, I wiped the fog off the mirror to inspect the cut on my head. It was difficult to see exactly how bad it was because it was bleeding profusely. It was a head wound so it was to be expected – I was not unfamiliar with the occasional bump and gash. I just hoped I wouldn’t need staples.

Note:

She needed staples

Grabbing a blue towel off the door rack, I pressed it to my head and walked into my room, tugging on a loose tee and shorts with some effort, silently thankful for the lack of s that, at thirteen, I was normally resentful of. Putting on a bra would have been impossible. Then, I was presented with the question if I should just try and wait for the cut to stop bleeding or go and ask for help. The latter option brought tears to my eyes simply because I didn’t want to seem like the biggest idiot in the world and there had already been at least one other incident of me causing trouble in the span of three days. I decided to wait for thirty minutes just to see if the bleeding would stop.

Note:

It did not stop

Feeling light headed and resigned, I left my room and wandered down the hall to the left. At the end of the hall, I knew, was his room. Looking at the door seemed to give me tunnel vision and it took me another few, what felt like, minutes before I raised a hand to knock. I knocked exactly three times and there was no response. So I knocked again, a little harder. There was a slight rustling but the door didn’t open. Another wave of dizziness hit me and I had to kneel on the floor to let it pass. Why hasn’t he heard me, I asked myself, my head beginning to ache in earnest. Standing again, I gathered a breath into my chest and twisted the door knob – it was unlocked.

My nose barely through the doorway, I could vaguely see a lump laying on a king-size through the dark that engulfed the room.

“Ahjussi,” I whispered – it felt wrong to call him by his name but it felt worse to call him Dad so Ahjussi would just have to do for now. Taking another step, “Ahjussi,” I called a little louder. The lump shifted and then sprung up into a sitting position. A light flicked on seconds later and an overbearingly concerned man was looking at my head within miliseconds.

“Yah!” I flinched slightly, his voice ringing in my ears, “What did you do?”

“I slipped in the shower,” I mumbled shamefully. I could feel his fingers prodding around the wound and winced.

“You got yourself good, all right,” he commented mostly to himself as he continued to look at the wound which was now sluggishly bleeding rather than gushing out.  Finally, he set the towel back over my head and told me to hold it there. In seconds he got changed and was throwing a light jacket over my shoulders and we were headed to the ER.

The Unsolved Case of Mysterious Concern:

From Him: Worried glances and soft assurances

From Her: Strained eyes bloating with tears and

A heart beating where a head should be

Jong Kook helped me out of the car, and then proffered his back. Which I promptly refused - thirteen was too old for that and I wasn’t even THAT hurt. I was actually getting a little irritated because he kept looking over at me throughout the ride and then walking into the ER. I sat down in the nearest chair as soon as we go to the reception area while Jong Kook went to check me in. To my right was a concerned father tightly holding a boy of maybe four or five and rocking back and forth. The boy’s foot was twisted at an odd angle – almost pointing directly away from the direction of his knee caps. To my left was an older couple, or at least I assumed them to be a couple, the man seeming to drift in and out of consciousness with the woman looking on with concern.

The reception area itself was just a bunch of black chairs put into rows with the reception desk at the front and two hall ways to either side of the desk obviously leading back to the actual examination rooms. The lighting was irritatingly bright and only served to make my head pound harder. My eyes, no matter what I tried, rested into a strained squint.

Jong Kook came back with papers and a blue pen in his hands. He half-smiled at me and then sat in the seat to my left.

“Your birthday?” He asked

“March 4, 1999,” I replied. He nodded and quickly scribbled it down.

“Height?”

“5”2-ish…?” He looked at me calculitively and bit his lip.

“So about 157 cm?” I shrugged, not really remembering the conversion. He wrote it down anyway, “Wah…you’re really short,” he commented and I rolled my eyes.

“No thanks to you,” I shot back to which he chuckled, I ground my teeth slightly. Not in the mood to be teased – my head was bleeding for god sake.

“Weight?”

“49 kg,” I replied – judo had treated me well but I was under weight for my weight class currently – loss of muscle mass will do that to you. Also, I had competed in a lot of competitions which required weight in kilograms. He nodded and wrote that down, as well.

“Allergic to anything?”

“Tomatoes.”

“Really?” I nodded, most kids grow out of food allergies but I never had. I like the taste of alfredo on pasta anyway.

“Asthma or anything like that?” I shook my head in the negative.

“All right, that should be it,” With a sigh, he stood up and walked back to the reception desk. I sighed soon after, drawing my knees to my chest and resting my head on top of them, towel still pressing against the wound. And then I began to yawn and my eyes began to flutter – waking up so early had done me no good and I hadn’t slept well to begin with. The sun was just now beginning to rise. Jong Kook had sat down back down beside me without me really realizing it. I flinched away slightly when I saw he was there – he startled me. A man that built shouldn’t be able to move so quietly. Then again, I wasn’t exactly all that put together in that moment.

“Miss Bailey?” A nurse called in a heavy accent, I raised my hand and stood, wobbling only slightly from being tired as well as just being generally light-headed. Following the nurse in with Jong Kook trailing behind me, I was lead to a curtained cubicle and told to sit on a hard excuse for a bed with white paper covering the top. I sat down with a rustle – the paper – and winced every time I moved, much to Jong Kooks amusement. He wasn’t doing much better than me in regards to the being tired department – dark circles under his eyes.  

When the doctor came in, he removed the towel gingeraly but it still hurt – the gash having tried to heal over by incorporating the towel.

“Now…what do we have here?”

“I slipped in the shower,” I said figuring there was no reason to be dishonest. The doctor nodded and then smiled – flashing brilliant white teeth from dimpled cheeks. He gave me the same impression as Gapjin samcheon – a total teddy-bear type.

“Well, let’s get you fixed up,” he said to me, and then to Jong Kook, “You’re the guardian, right?” He nodded, “Well, we’re going to have to put some staples in to pull the skin back together, just so you know.” He nodded again.

“Will we have to come back to get them out?” He asked.

“Yes, in about two weeks or so,” The doctor – Dr. Kim – replied. Dr. Kim turned back to address me, “First we’re gonna numb your head up, okay?” I nodded just as a nurse came in with what I assumed was a numbing agent and cotton swabs. First they numbed my head – which was an odd feeling and made it so I couldn’t raise my eyebrows. And then they disinfected it and stabled me back together. It didn’t take very long – maybe ten minutes. They then proceeded to go through some checks to make sure I didn’t have a concussion, as well. After thirty minutes of that nonsense they decided that I just had a headache from lack of sleep and overstimulation and I was allowed to leave.

I was really regretting not accepting the offer of a piggy back the first time on the way out. I really was quite tired and walking was a bother. I could feel Jong Kook looking at me as we were leaving and was startled when a hand ruffled through my hair and a hand clamped down on my shoulder. I looked at him curiously. What? I asked with my eyes.

“Be careful, okay? I don’t want to have to come to the hospital every other week,” I nodded, embarrassed. Along with the tired I now felt the desire to not burden him as much as possible. If I hadn’t been so stupid... I was lucky Jong Kook wasn’t able to hear the thoughts rambling through my head.

The End of Day 3 came Before It Began:

Spent on sleep and

More sleep

They slept a lot.