Menu Close

Scene #357, Take 1

Day 25 of #HAWMC: Third Person Post

Write about a memory you have but describe it using the third person. Use as many sensory images (sights, sounds, textures, etc) as you can. Don’t use “I” or “me” unless you include dialogue.

The day was supposed to, by all accounts, be uneventful.

Just a regular day with a regular appointment.  Alone, yet again…but that was okay, she could manage.

She’d had no anxiety for this scan…all would be “normal.”

She’d also be very, very “incorrect.”

The technician called her name after what seemed like an hour.  It likely was, as she’d be early for her own funeral, if possible.  Chalk it up to having a military father with clock cogs for neural network systems…

Always the timid patient, she walked quickly, through the discomfort, behind the technician who must have sensed her awkward movements and gradually decreased the speed of her gait.  The sun, streaming in from behind partially opened blinds, glared blazingly into her eyes.

Future’s so bright, I gotta wear shades…“, she jokingly thought to herself.

The goo.  Oh-so-very cold and sterile, just like every other similar appointment she’d ever had.  Don’t know why she would’ve expected anything different…what was that line that Einstein always said? Something about madness?

She shrugged it off.  Whatever.  Just get it done with. She wanted to go shopping…she’d booked the whole day off of work.

Just for shits and giggles.

The technician had goofed up the woman’s personal information.  Seriously?!? How bloody hard is it to input directly from a standard form that every single patient before her had used?!

With only the monotone inflection of her voice, this file-number-for-a-patient delivered yet another synopsis of her made-for-tv-movie kind of life.

[enter foreshadowing, stage left]

Once completed, the technician was ready to proceed.

“You ready?”, she’d asked.

“Engage…” the woman on the bed replied, trying to jest, but her annoyance underlined the word itself.

As the transducer touched her skin, it happened.  That exact, same, moment.

The clock…”tick”…”tock”…”tick”…”to…..

It stopped.

Her breath, previously quick and shallow…stopped.

The technician’s breath…stopped.

“Do you know what you’re looking at?” The technician asked the woman, with eyes flared wide open.


It was, by far, the most whispered word she’d ever uttered…barely audible in it’s thunderous recognition of the impossible.

She hadn’t realized it, but the her hand and fingers were digging into the technician’s knee.  She’d wondered, ironically as a law clerk, if she’d just set herself up with a lawsuit.

A lawsuit would’ve been favourable to this….this…what was this?!

“Is it….”, she asked timidly.

Suddenly, she recoiled within herself as it….moved.  Holy shit…it moved!!

The technician looked down at her station, rapidly clicking, rolling, clicking…measuring…

Oh, Gods….please….

The technician finally looked at her and spoke two words that would change this woman’s future forever…

“Yes.”, she replied.  “Both.”

The woman, now sweating profusely (or maybe it was the sun streaming in through the blinds?)…searched her mind.

Searched desperately for some form of logic…of understanding…

…of blame.

…ck”, the clock began it’s heartbeat of rhythm once again.

Holy shit,” the woman finally managed to sputter forth.

“Are you okay? Is this…going to be…okay?”, the technician dared to ask.

The woman started crying.  First, a single tear rolled soundlessly down her cheek.  Then the reality of this new scene in her personal movie began to unfold around her…and she cried…and she blubbered nonsensical words to the dumbfounded technician watching the hypocritical reaction beside her.

“How the hell am I going to tell people?!?!”, the woman managed to croak through her tears…

“I tell you what,” the technician gently said as she gazed into the woman’s incredulous eyes…

…”because of the size, I can fit both of them on the screen…”

…”I’ll be sure to mark the photo as ‘Twin A’ and ‘Twin B’.”

The woman left the office that day a changed woman.

She was thinking of the cosmic joke that had just played out to her…the “one more”…just became a two-for-one-special.

And she was thinking not about diapers and wipes and cribs, OH MY!…

…but of how her family tree was going to become a family ORCHARD.

Hands down, best damn day of her then 33 year old life.

True story. 😉


This post was written in participation of WEGO Health Activist Writer’s Month Challenge, April 2012.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.