cropped hair. Her lab coat was immaculate, so I guessed that she had changed it before coming to see us, because what she presented to us in a clear plastic bag was anything but clean.
Through the red gore and the grey-green foamy substance that seemed to writhe all over it, I could still see that it had, long ago, been the pop-top tab of an aluminum cola can. I held my hand over my nose and mouth and couldn’t keep back a few retching convulsions.
“We removed this from your daughter’s small intestine,” the doctor said with an intent gaze at my mother.
“Is this some kind of joke?” demanded my mother.
“Is Beth all right?” asked my father.
“She appears to be fine,” the doctor said calmly, setting the bag on the table next to my chair. I concentrated on her face as she continued, “She was awake during the extraction.”
My mother lunged toward the doctor, and her fists didn’t land on their mark only because my father held her arms. “What? You didn’t sedate her?”
“She refused, madam. She wanted to be aware of what was happening. We were able to make a very precise incision with her guidance. She told us she’d accidentally swallowed the tab while attempting to open an RC Cola can with her teeth.”
“What? Why?” shrieked my mother.
“She said something about impressing her sister.”
For some reason, everyone looked at me. “When did this happen?” demanded my mother.
“How should I know? It’s not like she was worth paying attention to until the doctor told us she stayed awake and guided the scalpels,” I said in an even tone, in an attempt to get my mother to calm down.
“It was just before I came down with all the allergies.” A thin but steady voice came from the doorway. I gazed at my sister, rapt. She was holding on to the doorway so hard, I was sure clumps of it were going to come off in her hand. Her hospital gown hung limply open on her frame, revealing a trickle of blood oozing from under the surgical bandage and over her white briefs. I was vaguely aware of my father covering his eyes from the sight.
“Since you weren’t paying attention to me even halfway across the world, Emily, I decided I didn’t need your attention any more. And I decided not to have allergies anymore. It was time for the aluminum to come out.” I noticed her bare, pink feet lose their grip on the rough floor as two nurses came up behind her and one inserted the contents of a syringe into her naked arm.
He apologized to all of us in general. “She needs to rest. We couldn’t keep her in the bed.”
We all followed the nurses back to the recovery room, where they gingerly laid my fascinating sister in the bed. I had no memory of anyone trying to open a can with their teeth, much less a member of my own family, and I wondered how the tab had managed to stay so recognizable after all those years in a corrosive environment. While Beth slept off the drugs, the doctor kindly brought chairs from the waiting room so we could all sit. She said she’d seen many more puzzling objects caught in people’s digestive tracts in the few years she’d been a doctor.
We all just stared at my sister, at her rhythmically falling and rising chest, at the little mounds of her pupils darting under her eyelids. Beth looked a lot like me, I noticed: the straight brown hair, arranged in a way that she probably meant to look like mine; the unruly eyebrows; the long, ramrod-straight eyelashes. I’d introduce her to an eyelash curler when this was all over. I felt strangely united with my parents while the three of us directed all of our energy toward Beth’s wellbeing.
Her lips twitched. I laid my hand on her wrist. Her eyes snapped open, as clear as they’d been before she came down with all the allergies.
“How do you feel?” I asked.
“Better than I have in years.” She sounded a little crusty, so I went to look for someone who could bring water.
When I came back to Beth’s side, my mother was in
Through the red gore and the grey-green foamy substance that seemed to writhe all over it, I could still see that it had, long ago, been the pop-top tab of an aluminum cola can. I held my hand over my nose and mouth and couldn’t keep back a few retching convulsions.
“We removed this from your daughter’s small intestine,” the doctor said with an intent gaze at my mother.
“Is this some kind of joke?” demanded my mother.
“Is Beth all right?” asked my father.
“She appears to be fine,” the doctor said calmly, setting the bag on the table next to my chair. I concentrated on her face as she continued, “She was awake during the extraction.”
My mother lunged toward the doctor, and her fists didn’t land on their mark only because my father held her arms. “What? You didn’t sedate her?”
“She refused, madam. She wanted to be aware of what was happening. We were able to make a very precise incision with her guidance. She told us she’d accidentally swallowed the tab while attempting to open an RC Cola can with her teeth.”
“What? Why?” shrieked my mother.
“She said something about impressing her sister.”
For some reason, everyone looked at me. “When did this happen?” demanded my mother.
“How should I know? It’s not like she was worth paying attention to until the doctor told us she stayed awake and guided the scalpels,” I said in an even tone, in an attempt to get my mother to calm down.
“It was just before I came down with all the allergies.” A thin but steady voice came from the doorway. I gazed at my sister, rapt. She was holding on to the doorway so hard, I was sure clumps of it were going to come off in her hand. Her hospital gown hung limply open on her frame, revealing a trickle of blood oozing from under the surgical bandage and over her white briefs. I was vaguely aware of my father covering his eyes from the sight.
“Since you weren’t paying attention to me even halfway across the world, Emily, I decided I didn’t need your attention any more. And I decided not to have allergies anymore. It was time for the aluminum to come out.” I noticed her bare, pink feet lose their grip on the rough floor as two nurses came up behind her and one inserted the contents of a syringe into her naked arm.
He apologized to all of us in general. “She needs to rest. We couldn’t keep her in the bed.”
We all followed the nurses back to the recovery room, where they gingerly laid my fascinating sister in the bed. I had no memory of anyone trying to open a can with their teeth, much less a member of my own family, and I wondered how the tab had managed to stay so recognizable after all those years in a corrosive environment. While Beth slept off the drugs, the doctor kindly brought chairs from the waiting room so we could all sit. She said she’d seen many more puzzling objects caught in people’s digestive tracts in the few years she’d been a doctor.
We all just stared at my sister, at her rhythmically falling and rising chest, at the little mounds of her pupils darting under her eyelids. Beth looked a lot like me, I noticed: the straight brown hair, arranged in a way that she probably meant to look like mine; the unruly eyebrows; the long, ramrod-straight eyelashes. I’d introduce her to an eyelash curler when this was all over. I felt strangely united with my parents while the three of us directed all of our energy toward Beth’s wellbeing.
Her lips twitched. I laid my hand on her wrist. Her eyes snapped open, as clear as they’d been before she came down with all the allergies.
“How do you feel?” I asked.
“Better than I have in years.” She sounded a little crusty, so I went to look for someone who could bring water.
When I came back to Beth’s side, my mother was in
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