Janelle may have gotten away with attacking her neighbor but that didn't mean that life didn't go on without additional problems. Janelle touched everybody she ever came in contact with and almost always in a negative way. She even touched her own self in a negative way, sometimes in a way that would cost her husband more headaches and more money, along with the steady supply of food and cigarettes she always expected to have.
Janelle had been plagued with serious allergies that began sometime after moving to the area. She would have sneezing fits that would go on for hours. They were so bad that they were almost debilitating because she constantly had to blow her running nose. Janelle tried different things to stop the sneezing fits like putting nose clips on her nose that were used for swimming and a variety of other things.
Steven later admitted noticing that Janelle didn't seem to be aware of nasal sprays for allergies but didn't mention it because he didn't think she would be interested in that sort of thing.
And so one day when they were standing in the kitchen talking, or trying to, Janelle sneezed non-stop, snot dripping into the trash pail. She picked up a dirty frying pan sitting on the nearby stove and smashed her nose in frustration, breaking it instantly.
As soon as it broke, this almost seemed to accelerate the sneezing fits like a movie suddenly playing in fast-forward mode. She sneezed uncontrollably, one sneeze after another, blood spattering all over the insides of the trash bin and her clothes.
Steven Stone grunted in frustration due to his wife’s stupidity and grabbed a dishtowel that he had Janelle hold over her nose. “Come on, I've got to take you to the hospital now that you've done this.”
Janelle flashed her husband a look of anger as if it were her fault even though she was the one to wield the frying pan, and as if he would suffer more for having to take her than she was. Then, in pain and nearly hysterical as she mumbled incoherently, she allowed herself to be led out into the garage and into the car. The garage she complained was always so full of stuff she could barely walk around the car to get to the passenger side. Steven guided her into the car, Janelle making a show of stumbling over things along the way.
At the hospital, Janelle readily admitted that she had been the one to break her nose before explaining about the frustrating allergy attacks she’d been experiencing. “I know it was an incredibly dumb thing to do but I was just so frustrated. I never had this problem before in my life!” she wailed dramatically. “I have no idea what's causing it.”
After the doctor delicately reset and taped Janelle's broken nose to the tune of her shrilly wails, he told her about an OTC nasal spray that was all she should need to help her.
“That's it? All I have to do is spray it on each side once a day and that's it?”
“Well,” he explained, “it may take a week to kick in since it's more of a preventative thing.”
“But will it really work?”
“It should. If not, I recommend you follow up with an allergist. You should also contact your regular doctor and tell them what's going on.”
“Oh, wow, definitely. I had no idea there was any such thing for allergies. You've never heard of this, have you?” She turned to her husband.
“Yeah,” he said as if it was common knowledge.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“And you didn't tell me about it?” Janelle asked incredulously, amazed that her husband could let her suffer needlessly for so long if he knew about something that could help.
“Well, you always talk about how you hate to go to the doctor.”
“Yeah, but this is OTC. I just hope it works.”
After the doctor left, informing her that she would be given some papers and information, a young woman entered the exam room. She appeared young and friendly. Janelle knew she wasn't a nurse because she wasn't in scrubs. She assumed she was some kind of nurse’s aide or a volunteer.
“Hi there. I'm Charlene,” she said cheerily.
“Hello,” Janelle said gingerly touching her sore but bandaged nose.
“How are you feeling?”
“In pain but he wrote me out a prescription for a painkiller.”
“Well, great. Let's hope this helps. In the meantime, I'd like to offer any assistance I can and get your take on things.”
Steven was smart enough to know that Charlene was a counselor who was concerned about Janelle's mental state, but of course, Janelle didn't get it.
“You mean like a patient satisfaction thing or something?”
“Well,” Charlene said choosing her words carefully. “Our goal is to have the patients share their experiences with us. So I'd like to give you my number in case you ever want to chat.”
“Oh, that's nice of you,” Janelle said, mistaking her services for friendship.
“It's no problem at all. Feel free to call anytime you want.”
“Thank you,” Janelle said. “Perhaps I will.”
“You know she wasn't just being friendly,” Steven told Janelle as they were on their way out of the hospital.
“What do you mean? She seemed nice enough to me.”
“Yeah, but hospitals aren't exactly the place to go if you're just looking for friends.”
“Well, I didn't think she was exactly looking for a friend but just being nice.”
To get a sense of just who the woman was and what Steven was implying, Janelle called the number a few days after her self-destructive act. Sure enough, it wasn't Charlene who answered but someone else who said she wasn't available at the moment, and would she like to speak to another counselor in the meantime?
True to Janelle’s nature, who seemed to find that denial was a great way to help her deal with things, inspected her nose in the mirror once the bandages were removed and said, “Not bad. You can’t even tell anything happened.”
Yet to most people, the slightly crooked nose was evident enough.
ns216.73.216.154da2
