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Eve Chapter 3

By Topsy, Edited by Stanman63

The rest of the morning flew past, easy if you're asleep. A nurse came in and told me she was taking my blood pressure and removing the catheter. I gritted my teeth as it was withdrawn. Mum returned at midday and said I had been discharged. She'd brought some clothes, thankfully a set of sweats and clean underwear - my clean underwear.

I winced as I dressed but was too pleased to be getting out to worry about any temporary discomfort. My training shoes were by the bed already and, having put them on, I was helped into a wheelchair. I was pushed past the nurses station into the lift and down to the entrance. An ambulance was waiting for me, they weren't keen on me getting into mum's car and bumping my head.

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Once home I was pushed into the kitchen and moved onto one of the chairs there. I didn't notice mum coming back in carrying the flowers that were still OK, as well as the teddy bears. The ambulance women left and then it was just mum and me.

Mum went first to the filter machine and put a pot of coffee on. I got the feeling we'd need the whole pot. She then went to the fridge and prepared some lunch for us. My appetite hadn't fully returned, hospital food does that to you, but a cheese roll was just what I needed. The coffee was poured and we sat down.

Once mum cleared the plates away and refilled our cups, she went to her bag and retrieved a small book. "Simon, Dr. Fox asked you to keep a diary, did you have a dream while you were asleep this morning?"

I nodded.

"I thought so, you didn't say anything but there was some REM."

"REM, isn't that a band from Georgia?" I asked.

"No, in this case it is Rapid Eve Movement and usually means that you're dreaming."

I took the diary and wrote a note of my dream. I found it strange that before mum had asked me about my dream I couldn't remember much of it but now I had the whole dream on paper.

After I put the diary down, mum reached back into her bag and pulled out some tablets and a letter. She first explained that one set of tablets was in case I couldn't sleep and the other was a mild sedative if I was in pain. OK, so far. Mum would look after the sleeping pills, and I would be allowed to keep a couple of the painkillers, just in case, while mum would keep the rest of the supply.

"Simon, I know you're normally sensible but I just want to be careful. I won't be far away for the next week, my office have given me time off to look after you."

She then picked up the letter and said it was my copy of the discharge letter to our GP, Dr. Kumar. In the letter, Mr. Bishop described the injury, the tumour, the surgery and the post-operative care. Nothing strange there, but I was referred to as Eve throughout. He wanted to see me on Monday at 11:A.M.

It was then that I realised I didn't know what day it was. I asked mum, and she said it was Friday, September 11th. She asked me if I needed to know the year, then giggled and moved away before I could reach her with my hand. I'd missed nearly two weeks of my life.

I felt to the back of my head and touched the dressing gently. I had a horrible thought and asked mum about my hair.

"Yes Simon, they had to shave most of your hair off round the back before they operated. You had a very major operation and they are amazed at your speed of recovery but you have a wound there that won't completely heal for one or two months. It has to be kept covered and the dressing changed regularly. The district nurse will be here tomorrow morning and you'll be then seen at the surgery every Monday and Friday. You'll also be seeing one of Mr. Bishop's team on Wednesdays and Dr. Fox on Thursdays."

Right, that's two days a week in the doctors surgery and two at the hospital.

"When can I go back to school?"

"Not yet and maybe not back to that school."

I sat stunned, "Why not?"

Mum took a deep breath and looked straight at me, "Simon, I'm sorry that this started like it did. I should have been with you at the school that morning but I thought my work was more important. Can you forgive me?"

I reached out and took her hands, "Mum I forgave you as soon as I was conscious enough to think after the surgery. This wasn't your fault."

"But Simon, I should have already changed your name then none of this would have happened."

I looked at her and started crying. She came round to me and asked me what was wrong, I waved my hand at a box of tissues and she handed me one. I dried my eyes and told her nothing was wrong, I was just so happy to be home. I'm not sure she entirely believed me.

I then had an overbearing need for the toilet. She put me back in the wheelchair and we wheeled to the downstairs toilet. I got out of the chair and sat to relieve myself. The catheter had been taken out shortly before we left the hospital and I was a little sore, make that very sore. Maybe one of those pills wasn't a bad idea.

After washing my hands and then my eyes I looked in the mirror. I couldn't remember there being a mirror anywhere in the hospital. There was a purple bruise above my left eye. Turning my head I could see the edge of the dressing, there was stubble around the dressing. The rest of my hair looked like I had been dragged through a hedge backwards. I was a mess. I forced myself to just accept this, just as I'd accepted everything else.

I exited the toilet and Mum went to put me back in the wheelchair but I stood up straight, albeit a bit shaky, and said I'd walk back to the kitchen. She held my arm as we headed back to my cold coffee. I asked for a refill but she shook her head, doctor's orders, no more than two cups a day. Damn! No Coke or Pepsi either and no alcohol, as if. I asked where this came from and she showed me the second page of Mr. Bishop's letter. I sighed, at least I could get my morning fix of coffee.

I then asked what Mum had meant about my school. She went to the lounge and came back with a bundle of letters. I recognised the school's letterhead and the county council's logo but not the rest.

"Simon, your incident caused a storm. The school and the Local Eduction Authority are under investigation. Your head has been suspended, as has Mrs. Everett from the LEA. Ofsted has asked another county's LEA to appoint a temporary head. Parents have been pulling their children from the school.

"The local newspapers and local TV stations want an interview, but I've told them to speak to Dixon Hill & Co, our solicitors. Mr. Dixon has waived his normal fee, apparently they are waiting for the school's and LEA's solicitors to respond to a claim for damages. Oh, and the Health & Safety Executive want a statement from you on Monday. Mr. Dixon will be here. They might charge the head with negligence. The word is that he'll be sacked next week after an emergency governors' meeting."

"All because of me?" I asked.

"No, several parents have told the Osfted inspectors that their children have been refused permission by the head to have their parents present for disciplinaries and other serious matters."

She continued, "You'll have a private tutor here, Monday for four hours each afternoon and all day on Tuesdays. All your other appointments are before lunchtime. I've arranged the tutor but the LEA is picking up the cost."

"So, I don't get off school completely?"

"No," she said.

I asked about the flowers from the hospital. She told me that some of my school friends had sent flowers, as had my relatives. Claire and Annie Johnson, twins who I had been through school with, had left two of the teddy bears. The governors, LEA, and mum's employers had sent the rest.

I was starting to yawn and mum saw this, despite my attempts to hide it, "How about you get some sleep in the lounge?" She helped me into the lounge and I laid on the couch.

I woke just before six and could smell cooking in the kitchen, real home cooking. There was a glass of water on the table, I took a sip and then swallowed the whole glass. Looking around I saw the local paper on the table, last Friday's edition. It was open on page 3 - 'Girl beats St. P's GCSE record'. The byline read 'Sixteen year old Eve Jones has broken the 10 year record of grade A passes at GCSE level'. I wasn't impressed with that article. I turned to the front page, the headline read 'Schoolgirl Injured In St. P's Incident.' The article continued but didn't mention my name anywhere.

So the school and the LEA have me as a girl, the hospital have me as transgendered and now the local paper has made me a girl. Who next?