The Red Address Book by Sofia Lundberg

Author:Sofia Lundberg
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HMH Books

14

On the other side of the curtain, the woman who was admitted last night coughs. The sound echoes off the walls. She has pneumonia and shouldn’t really be in this room, but they couldn’t put her in the infection ward because of a bedsore. When she coughs, it sounds as though the contents of her stomach are about to reappear. Doris shudders in disgust and covers her ears with her hands.

“Can I have my computer?”

Doris shouts out into the empty room, then repeats the question in a voice that barely carries. Because of her dry throat, the sound creaks and cracks against the roof of her mouth. The cool hospital room remains quiet—no footsteps of nurses coming to help.

“Press the alarm button,” pants the woman with the cough, when Doris shouts for help a third time.

“Thanks, but it’s not that important.”

“It’s clearly important enough for you to lie there shouting. Press the button,” the woman snaps irritably.

Doris doesn’t reply. When she doesn’t want help, the nurses are always there to nag her, but now that she really needs them, they’re nowhere to be seen. What if she tried to get the computer herself? She can see it, its lid now closed, on the table where the nurse placed it earlier. She had told the nurse to leave it open; why couldn’t they just do as she asked? Surely she can manage to get over there and fetch it herself? It’s not far at all. If she ever wants to go home, she will need to practice getting up. She picks up the remote control for her bed and tries pressing one of the buttons. The bed jolts and the foot end starts to rise. She tries to stop the movement by pressing one button after another. Now the head end starts moving, and the lower half starts rising beneath her knees. In panic, she presses the red alarm button as she shakes the remote control and continues to press every button she can. Eventually the bed stops.

“Goodness, what’s going on here?” laughs the nurse who comes running. Doris is sitting upright, with her legs raised high, posed like a half-open pocketknife. But she doesn’t laugh; she’s blinking away tears of pain.

“The computer over there, I need it.” She points as her legs are slowly lowered and the pain in her back gradually decreases.

“Why didn’t you press the alarm? We come running if you do that. You know that, Doris.”

“I wanted to practice walking. I want to get out of here. Just doing physical therapy isn’t enough, it’s too slow.”

“Patience, Doris. You need to accept your limits. You’re ninety-six, you’re not a spring chicken anymore.” The nurse is talking slowly and a touch too loudly.

“Patience and stubbornness,” she mutters. “If you knew how stubborn I am.”

“So I’ve heard. Should we try it, then?” Doris nods and the nurse slowly swings Doris’s legs over the edge of the bed and lifts her upper body into a sitting position. Doris screws her eyes tight.

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