Rocks In My Tummy

Jennifer Kendrick

     My tummy always feels icky when I'm here. My hand is sweaty while mom holds it tightly, walking me through the winding maze of hallways. Do hospitals scare other people as much as they do me? A long blue ribbon bounces joyfully from the back of my day dress. Mom always picks out the prettiest outfits for me when we come here. We continue to walk along, and I hang tight to her side. There are so many people in these rooms, some who look horrible and make strange noises. Are they hurting? I always thought hospitals were where they made people feel better, but some of the people here make me wonder. Hearing the beep beep beeping of all the machines, the rocks in my tummy churn some more.

     Why can't I be a normal kid? Why do I have to have these bad things growing in my head? Mom always reminds me not to worry. She says that in time the doctors will have me all fixed up, and that I won't need any more of these operations. I hope that she's right.

     We enter into what they call the “prep” room. There is a brand new teddy bear waiting for me on the bed, next to the gown they laid out for me. He sure is adorable, and now I'm more scared than ever. You see, I've been here enough times to know that teddy bears, stickers, and toys means that somewhere in this room there are needles, IV tubes, and little glass tubes that they use to take my blood away for testing. My eyes swell with tears as I pick up my new friend. I think I will name him Lott. Mom pulls me closer to her. “It's okay baby. You're just going to go to sleep for a bit. They're gonna make you good as new,” she says as she holds me tightly. I reluctantly change in to the gown and hold tightly to Lott as the nurse enters my room.  I clench him with all my might as she wheels my bed back through the winding maze of a hallway.

     I see the big doors at the end of the hallway. I hear the WOOSH of air escaping as the door opens to the scariest room of them all. Everyone inside this room is covered from head to toe in blue clothes, only ears and eyes hanging out. All the shiny little knives and such laying out on the shiny tables covered in blue as well. Beep beep beeping from one end of this room to the other. I think I'm gonna get sick. Luckily, there is a little dish beside me just in case.

     The nurses help me onto the big table, and I lay down and close my eyes. I try to think of fun things. Strawberry Shortcake and her friends, hot dogs at the baseball games, and Spiderman video games. I know what it coming next, and I don't want to think about it. It's the scariest part. The part where you close your eyes and they put the stinky mask on you. It makes your body tingle, and makes the weird noises inside your head. The stinky mask always makes my tummy feel the worst. There it comes, I take a deep breath, and try not to breath in the smell. I count backwards from 10 down. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5......

     I wake up immediately. Or so it seems. How do they do that I wonder? In the blink of an eye it's over. Mom is there, standing by my bed smiling. “I told you it would be okay,” she says. She was right once again. Maybe the hospital isn't such a scary place after all.