MRIs

Robert threw the morphine syringe away then left long enough for a blood draw kit. He had to use a needle small enough to use on a premie to get inside my veins. He drew the blood and sent it to the lab with my specifications. Then he wheeled my bed down the hall to the MRI room. Robert lay me on the table. The room was cold, but he didn't want a blanket to interfere with the imaging. Robert went into the other room to begin the scan. The table beneath me entered the large circular tunnel where the scan would take place.

"What images are you wanting, Tansy?" he asked through a speaker.

"Abdomen," I replied.

"Okay."

Even with the headphones on, the machine sounded really loud. Pain reverberated through my chest and abdomen and Robert aborted the scan. The table slid back out of the tube and Robert came in from the other room.

"Are you alright, Tansy?"

I groaned wishing I could curl into a tight ball.

"Tansy." Robert's hands lightly slid across my body and the reverberations stilled. "Tansy, are you okay?"

"Yes, Robert," I said softly.

"I wasn't able to get a very clear picture, are you okay if we try again?"

"Yes."

"Okay." He helped me lay straight again before turning to leave.

"And Robert?" I asked.

"Yes?"

"Print off a copy of both, please."

"Sure."

"Thank you."

He left to start the machine once more. This time the pain didn't accompany the noise of the machine and the test was soon over. Robert gathered the images then came to set me back in bed. He wheeled me back to my room. Once I was situated once more, Robert held the images up so I could look them over. His expression told me he didn't like what he was seeing.

The first picture was bleary, almost like someone had taken a double photo. The second was clear and the organs were all showing signs of degradation. I had him hold the images side by side. The background of the first photo looked very much like the second image. But the forefront of the first, the organs looked smaller. The length of my intestinal tract was shortening and my stomach was changing.

"They can go in my chart now," I told Robert when I was finished. "Thank you for doing this for me."

Robert nodded a little stiffly before leaving my side once more.

I tried to rest. But it wasn't peaceful. Intense pain came and went from my body as it broke down and tried to rebuild itself at the same time. The disease had progressed more rapidly for me than my parents. I had been faithful to watch for the first symptoms since my parents fell ill. I hadn't had a single one. Now I would be lucky to be alive two months from now.

While I lay there, I brought my hand to my face. I felt a breeze brush against my eyelids. Something else was changing in me. Whatever it was, it scared my spirit. All of my tests were clear of disease. So, then what had changed to trigger my parent's killer? I rested my hands on my lower abdomen. I pressed lightly, feeling the pressure on my body while not even touching those places on my body. Was my body creating another body? There was nothing in the scans.

I thought about my parents. And the progression the disease went through for them. When my parents were ill enough to need to be hospitalized, I recalled a day when I had rested my hand over and kissed both of their abdomens. Had their bodies been creating another body? If so, how did I know that? And how would that have worked for my father, since I knew he didn't have a uterus? I was still pondering when one of my lab partners came in.

"Hi, Tansy," Brady said. "Do you recognize me?"

"I do, Brady," I replied.

"The hospital called and said you were finally awake," Brady said.

"Awake, and functioning better that I should with only half a brain."

Brady chuckled slightly. "Did they tell you what happened?"

"Something about an accident at the lab."

Brady nodded. "Someone sabotaged the materials you were working with. Nearly blew your legs off."

Half-truth. They had no idea what broke my legs to land me in the hospital.

"Why would someone do that?" I asked, playing along.

"Maybe they were afraid of what we'd discover if we found a way to activate the Homomalia gene you found."

Sighing, I asked, "Has anything new been discovered while I've been in a coma?"

"No. The lab was shut down until a few days ago. Our bosses wanted to make sure nothing else happened."

"I understand."

Donald, another co-worker came in. "You are awake."

I smiled slightly to try and hide the grimace I wanted to let out as my non-existent feet started to shift and enlarge.

"Do the doctors know how soon you can come home?" Donald asked.

"I won't be coming home," I wheezed.

"Why? What's going on?"

The doctor stepped in then with my chart. "It's The One Sided Battle, Donald."

"Reggie?" he asked, confused.

Dr. Reggie pulled out the blood work I had Robert do for me.

"That's impossible! There was nothing two months ago."

"The results speak for themselves, Donald."

"I understand," Donald replied, handing my blood results back. "Can you give us a moment with Tansy?"

Dr. Reggie nodded then left the room.

"Where you having symptoms you never told us about?" Brady asked me.

"No."

"It must have been the contaminated materials you were working with then."

"Whatever the case, I won't be returning to work. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. We just hoped to learn more about the Homomalia gene. There is much you seem to know that the rest of us don't."

"Not sure what," I grimaced, trying to shift my wasted torso into a slightly more comfortable position. "The gene baffles me as much as it baffles you."

Donald set a hand on Brady's shoulder and looked at him questioningly.

Brady nodded slightly. "We'll keep trying to find a cure, Tansy. We're not ready to loose your expertise."

I nodded.

"I'll be going then. It was good to see you."

"Good to see you, too, Brady."

Brady left.

Donald sat in the chair next to the bed. "There is one thing I wanted to ask of you, Tansy."

"Go ahead?"

"I know how this will sound to you, but I would like you to consider it."

"Inject me with the gene?" I guessed.

He nodded.

"No."

"What if the introduction of the gene halts the destruction of The One Sided Battle?" he asked.

"And what if that same introduction speeds the disease in killing me, trying to kill what we injected?"

"It would end your suffering, Tansy."

"I know how this will end, Donald. I know how long it will take to end. I want to live the rest of my life as I see fit."

"Alright. Contact us if you change your mind."

"You know I won't," I replied.

Donald nodded with a frown. "Best of luck, Tansy."

"Thank you, Donald. Good luck with the gene."

He got up from the chair and left.