Apartment 211

2007-12-13T16:28:00.001-05:00

-Rent due in 28 days-

"Marsha Dorsey?" I stood up slowly and re-adjusted my red tank over my jeans. When I reached down to pick up my organizer on the chair next to me, I noticed the faces of the receptionist and the nurse beckoning me into the consulting room. It was like they were in on a secret that I was undoubtedly about to find out. I wish Rita was here. She always had a way of finding the silver lining in the clouds, but I had a feeling that a nor'easter was about to slam my shores.

When I made my way to the door that the nurse held open for me, she had a warm smile. Pettigru was her name on the tag. Nurse Pettigru was a petite woman. She probably couldn't get on a roller coaster without the attendant reaching for the measuring stick. She wore white shoes that made a slight click as we walked down the hallway leading to the doctor's office. We stopped just short of it at the blood pressure station. I guess to make sure I wasn't too nervous for my results and to make sure that I wouldn't pass out. She strapped me in, '120 over 70, good.'

Our walk continued. Suddenly I felt like a death row inmate making her final walk before execution. A sharp turn into a corner office, and the devastating walk abruptly ended. Nurse Pettigru smiled and closed the door behind me. I don't like closed doors. Especially when my track record with them consists of one firing, two write-ups and several HR meetings. You expect that in the teaching industry, especially when you do your job right.

I had never been to Dr. Murphy. Typically I only go to female ob-gyn but this time around I didn't want my gynie of 13 years to see me under these circumstances, too many questions to answer.

'Welcome back Ms. Dorsey. We have your test results.' I tried to read his face, pick up on his body language, but I felt nothing. He must do this all the time. It is Atlanta after all, I'm sure he's seen some the worst things nestled between some women's legs here. He opened a manila folder with a stack of papers inside. 'Gonorrhea, non-reactive.' He flipped the page. ' Syphilis, non-reactive. Hepatitis A and B, negative.' I gasped for air after I noticed I was holding my breath and wasn't breathing. He flipped another page and continued, 'Herpes, negative. Chlamydia, non-reactive. Ms. Dorsey.' Oh God what, 'Ms. Dorsey your test results from your HIV test came back reactive. That simply means that your body contains the HIV antibodies which are similar to HIV but the results are not conclusive. What I'm saying Ms. Dorsey, is that this is not a final indicator on whether or not you possess the HIV virus. Further testing will confirm or deny the test. We get people in all the time with false positive results...'

At this time I just saw Dr. Murphy's mouth moving, but my brain couldn't calculate anything he was saying. I just felt the blood rush to my fingers and my head. I felt like I weighed two tons and I couldn't move. I finally took a breath and I could still hear the doctor talking to me. I felt like I just landed back on Earth from another plane of existence, one where this was a complete nightmare that I was expecting to wake up at any moment. But I felt the cool breeze of the hospital and knew I was stuck in reality, my new reality.

He continued, ' Representatives from the Fulton County Heath Department will like to see you in the next few days. They've already been contacted and will need a list of all your sexual partners with their contact information. Ms. Dorsey? Ms. Dorsey?' I just stood up and walked out.

The Complex Stories

Apartment 211