Stuck in Westwood With the One Who Broke My Heart Eleven Years Ago

A story about reconnecting with a stranger in a Los Angeles hospital.

It’s a Thursday night in Westwood and I’m on night six of being in the hospital.

It’s April but tonight feels like summer in LA… I can tell by the way all the UCLA sorority girls are dressed for the party just by staring out my window.

I wish I that was me right now.

Not that I’ve ever partied with sorority girls. Or let alone went to college.

I’ve been here longer than I anticipated so I haven’t been in the right headspace. And the entire hospital staff knows it. And they know it because I’m becoming more and more difficult to deal with.

They come into my room every few hours suggesting I take something that’ll sedate me. Or at least something to calm my anxiety for the amount of testing my body has been going through.

But I always decline.
I’m not an anxious person… and if I come off that way, well… it’s because I’m in a fuckin’ hospital.

The only medicine I’m accepting these days are for pain.
Nothing for my spirits.
That’s all me. I got heart. I know I do.

Instead what I’ve been doing is turning off my room lights at 8p every night trying to force myself to sleep.

“You sleep early don’t you baby?!”
The night nurse came in laughing, turning all the lights back on.
“We gotta get you a Netflix show to watch or something. Want me to show you how to turn the tv on?”

But with tears in my eyes I just responded.
“No. I just want it to be tomorrow already.”

She stopped laughing. I’m a buzz kill, I know.
“Can you please turn off the lights, they hurt my—“
She interrupted me “Just a minute honey. They need to pull some blood”

She escorted the technician over to me and I flung my hand over to her.
Let’s just get this over with.
Blood work compared to the other work? Easy money.

I didn’t have the energy to look at the technician or the nurse because I knew they’d want to start small talk with me, but still, I could feel the nurse staring at me ready to prance.

“The doctor’s report says you get a little antsy around this time.”I didn’t respond.
“Do you want to take something before that happens?”
“I don’t get antsy.”
The needle retracted out of my hand.
“Alright baby.”

The nurse escorted the technician out of my room, turned off the lights and let me be.

As I’m laying in my dark room with my eyes closed I started thinking about the day I had. This afternoon I had my third spinal tap in 72 hours. And for those who don’t know what a spinal tap is, it’s where they stick a needle at the bottom of your spine, and pull fluid out from the brain.

Imagine that.

Cause that’s exactly what I was doing in the hospital bed, in a dark room, by myself… imagining it.

Suddenly I’m starting to get nauseous.
Where am I going to throw up?
I look at all the wires I’m attached to
I can’t get out of bed even if I wanted to.
I’m not anxious.

As I turn my head to check for an exit plan off the hospital bed— I realized I moved my head too fast now my head is pounding from the inflammation my brain is dealing with. I slowly lay my head back down on the pillow but now my spine is feeling the pressure from all the unnecessary movement I’m doing.
I’m not anxious.

I’m starting to hear the clicking in my ear again. It’s louder than usual this time.
Why am I hearing these noises in my ears?
“It’s a normal side effect from a spinal tap. It’s from having so much cerebral fluid being taken from the brain. It’ll go away, just be sure to drink a lot of water”
This is a conversation the Neurologists have had with me three times.

But at this very moment, I am asking myself:
What the fuck is this clicking in my ear? Am I, am I losing my fucking hearing?I said ‘hello’ out loud just to see if I could hear myself.
I’m not anxious

My heart is starting to beat faster than usual.
I’m not anxious.

I felt a heart palpitation so tight that I started panic-paging the nurse hoping she’d come running in.
I’m not anxious.
I’m in pain.

Moments later, my room door flung open, and all the lights when back on.
“I’m here!”
But when I looked up, it wasn’t my nurse. It was him.
The one I hadn’t had a real conversation with in eleven years.
The one who told me one summer night in 2014 while driving down Ventura Blvd that he’s sorry but he fucked up and got someone pregnant.

It’s him.
He’s a stranger to me now.
And now he’s here.
In Westwood.
On the 6th floor of the Ronald Regan Center.

He walked in loud and tone deaf.
Big smile on his face and an overnight bag on his back.

What the fuck is he doing here?

I started to wondering if I was hallucinating.
Did I agree to anti-anxiety meds earlier and I just don’t remember? Am I’m trippin? Nah, do meds even go hard like that? I’m not anxious. Am I? Am I going fuckin’ crazy?

“What are you doing here??” I asked in a rude panic
“I talked to your brother. He mentioned tonight was the only night you didn’t have a visitor scheduled so I thought I’d come—”
“You talked to my broth—“

The nurse finally rushed in.

“You paged?”
My voice is cracking “Yeah, I don’t feel good.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I need something for the pain”
“The pain? oh honey… they didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“They’re pausing your pain medication tonight. They need your system to be clear for tomorrow’s round of testing”
“I have to do more testing?” I started to cry.
“Honey but I can give you something for the anxiety—“
“I’m not anxious! I’m in pain!” I yelled out
“Okay! Okay! Let me page the doctor and see what he can let me do!” She ran out.
“Oh my God, that’s going to take hours!” I started bawling.

My unwanted visitor put his hand on my shoulder but I flinched.
“Hey, it’s okay, calm down-“
“Don’t tell me to calm down! You don’t know what’s happening!” I started bawling even harder.

He never really knew what to do when I’d cry.
I see that hadn’t changed, because this time around, he let me cry out loud for the next ten minutes until I had nothing left to cry.

Once I finally got silent, he asked if he could sit down.
I shrugged him off. I don’t give a fuck what anyone does at this point.

He pulled his chair close to my bed and tried to get himself comfortable
“Damn, these chairs don’t recline?” He started banging the chair to see if any levers would pop up. He’s loud even when he’s not saying anything.

He finally sat down.
“So what’s new?!”

I couldn’t tell if he was trying to distract me from my pain or if he just couldn’t read the fuckin’ room.

”What’s new?” I flung my hands up and looked around the hospital room “I mean, I’m in the fuckin’ hospital”
“I heard you get a lot of visitors!”
“Yes. I’m very blessed…”
“Have any of your boyfriends ran into each other yet?” He joked
“I’m not seeing anyone serious”
“No?”
“No. You taught me to leave beforehand”

He dropped the conversation and pulled out his phone.
“Do you want me to play a movie for you or something?”
I shook my head “Bright lights & loud sounds are too much for me right now”
“Oh…”

He was giving up but he still found it in him to strike up another conversation
“So more testing huh? Fuck..”
I snapped “Can you just give me a moment of silence please. I don’t feel good”
“Are you mad that I’m here?”

The nurse came back in and blasted the lights back on.

“Shit.” I threw the blanket to cover my eyes.
“Honey I’m sorry but the doctor hasn’t responded to my page yet but please let us give you something for the anxiety if you think you’re starting to get antsy. Right now it’s the only medicine your approved for. It’s gentle! It’s almost like Benadryl—”
“Please. No. I just need something for the pain”
“Okay! Okay, I understand.” She turned the lights off and left the room

My unwanted visitor gave it a minute after the nurse left, he got up from his chair and turned the lights back on.

There’s no fuckin way I thought to myself.

He opened his night bag and started scrambling through it.
He pulled out a used paper napkin and said “I can give you some Xanax, if you want”

I looked him dead in the eye and said
“If I don’t want Benadryl, what makes you think I want Xanax?”
“I mean they keep talking to you like you need to be in a fuckin’ insane asylum. It’s ok if you need to take something to calm down. People do this shit all the time” He shrugged “I do it all the time”
I responded “Yeah, because you always take the easy way out”

I could tell I hit cord with that one.
He wrapped the Xanax back up.
Turned the lights off and stormed out my room.

I knew his intentions were pure, even though not well thought out.
I knew I was being difficult.
And yet I hated seeing him leave.

An hour had passed and the nurse came back in to ask how I was doing.
“Has the doctor responded?” I asked.
“Not yet honey, I’m sorry.”
“I don’t feel good.”
“I know honey, but once the after hours hit, you know it takes a while…”
She looked at the empty visitors chair and changed the subject
“Is he not coming back?”
“Probably not…” I added “He always leaves when things get hard.”“They always do. Let me know if you change your mind about the anxiety medication. I think it’ll really do you good” She left my room.

As I stayed awake in my dark room I started to ask myself:
Why do they keep pressing this anti-anxiety shit on me? Why does the doctor report say that I’m antsy? Am I? No, I’m in pain. I mean… am I in pain? Or am I making this up? Nah. There’s no way. My heart started pounding again. I’m not fuckin’ anxious. What the fuck do I look like? I’ll tell you what I don’t look like… and that’s anxious. I looked at the visitor’s chair once more. Is he not coming back? Did I force him to leave? Is it cause I was being difficult? Is that why he left eleven years ago? Because I make things difficult? My breathing was getting hard again. I’m not difficult, I’m anxious.

I gave in and buzzed the nurse. I told her I’d take the anti-anxiety meds.
Anything to stop what was happening in my head.

“You’re making the right choice.” She smiled at me “I’ll be back, ok?”

I’m just like him.
Taking the easy way out.
Leaving once things get hard.
Not dealing with things head on.
The only difference between him & I is I’d actually return back.

The door flung open and to my surprise it was him

“Okay, I went on YouTube!”
“Youtube?”
“I found meditation exercises for pain!”
The motivation threw me off.
“If you want to fix this naturally, we can do it!”
He rushed over to me
“First, I gotta find the pressure points in your shoulders.“
He pressed down on me and must’ve felt something he didn’t like.
“Oh.. that’s not good”
He backed away, rewinded the tutorial and left the room again.

It finally clicked to me why he left the room in the first place- it was because he actually listened when I said bright lights and loud sounds are too much for me right now.

I could hear him pacing back and forth outside my room rush-studying this YouTube video.
Now I couldn’t help but feel bad for shaming his Xanax use— especially knowing the nurse was going to sedate me through an IV any minute now.

He reentered the room and walked over to me
“Okay. I got it. Your pressure points are here. Im going to press down on them and at the same time you’’re going to breathe in but you’re going to close one nostril with your finger”
“Close my nostril with—“
He grabbed my finger and aggressively pressed it on my nose “With your finger, yes!” He was starting to get frustrated with me “Now breathe in”

I took a deep breath but started choking on my mucus from my earlier crying session.

“No, deeper. You almost need to feel a pain in your chest.”
“a pain???”
“Do it!” He got stern “If you’re going to give the nurses a hard time about taking medication then you need to figure this shit out on your own!”
“Why are you yelling at me?!” My eyes started to water.
He was either charming or aggressive. No in between.

The nurse came back

“Okay, I have your IV”
“No. Close the door please.” He said firmly.
“Uh, no. It’s time for her medication.”
“She’s not taking it”
Now she’s getting hot “Wait, wait hold on. Are you even authorized to speak for her?”

He looked at me and I looked at the nurse. I could hardly even speak because of how much I started hyperventilating.

“Honey.” The nurse said to me woman to woman, “You don’t have to suffer tonight.”

I took a minute to respond.
I could feel the shame in my own answer.
“I’m sorry…”
She sighed in disappointment and I continued “Can you just give me 30 minutes”.
She shook her head and left the room.

He looked me dead in the eye and said
“I need you to focus. I know you’re mad at me. I know you’ve been mad at me. But for now, I need you to put everything to the side and focus. Do you understand me?”
I shook my head in agreement and he spent the next 20 minutes guiding my breathing.

Suddenly my heart wasn’t beating so fast anymore.
Still beating hard, yeah. But not so fast.

My nausea was still there but I no longer felt the suddenly urge to puke. Maybe I just need a ginger ale.

I could still hear the clicking in my ear but now I suddenly remember its just a side effect from my spinal tap and it’ll go away with hydration.

Yeah, I can still feel all the places they poked my spine but an ice pack will help the pain.

The tension in my shoulders finally released and my head finally dropped into my pillow.

“Do you want me to play some soft music? I can play it on low” he asked.

He’s the only one I ever let play me music.
The rest I always had to put on game.
The rest, they just weren’t cool.
But he, was cool, man. He always cool.

“Sure”

As he was scrolling through his Spotify finding an album to play, I stared into space analyzing the mental breakdown I had just had. Now that I was calmer, I felt embarrassed for what I had caused.

He held my hand “Hey”
I looked over at him and he continued “I know I’ve fucked up and you probably don’t trust in my word anymore. But please, please trust and believe me when I say, I just know after all of this… everything will turn out okay. Okay?”

I responded “Okay”

The EP from Cigarettes After Sex started playing in the background - it was a project we’d listen to all the time back in 2014 before he decided to leave and not come back.

Well, I guess he did come back.

“Nothing’s Going to Hurt You” started playing

Suddenly I wasn’t stuck in Westwood with a stranger anymore.
I was with my father.