25. Alana
It was weird,going to the hospital by herself. Hudson had offered, and while Alana had desperately wanted to say yes, she knew the grown up and smart thing to do was to go by herself. It wasn’t like she was going to have him forever like this, and she needed to get used to doing things by herself.
Which, what a fun change from who she had been in her early twenties. When Kelly Clarkson had sung about Miss Independent, Alana had heard that song as a child, and took it a little more literally than she should have, entirely ignoring the part of the song where Miss Independent learned to maybe rely on other people.
Early twenties Alana did not believe in asking other people for help, which maybe sort of had contributed to how long it had taken her to get any of her doctors to listen to her enough to consider that maybe the debilitating pain she had every month wasn’t just because she was fat. And then she’d met Shannon, who laughed at her when she said she could do everything by herself, and had spent the rest of the decade learning that asking people for help wouldn’t actually kill her.
Not to say she was good at asking for help. She still actively was not.
But she was better at it.
And better at emotionally relying on people who were not her.
Lane would be so proud of her, probably, for the way she had to talk herself off the cliff of ‘see this is why you should be alone by yourself and never trust other people’ where she, honestly, a little too over enthusiastically sprinted at the first sign of distress.
“It’s okay to ask people for help,” she reminded herself as she drove into the hospital parking lot. “It’s okay to ask people for things. But it’s also okay to want a clean break when you get divorced.”
Maybe she’d switch therapists when she got divorced. But then she’d have to explain to Lane why she wasn’t gonna see him anymore, and what was she supposed to do, lie?
How would that lie even work?
Maybe she could get two therapists. Was that a thing people did? Did the insurance cover it? Probably not.
But that was a problem for her later, and not for her now. Now problems included figuring out where she should be parking, and how the hell was she supposed to remember where that was. It was too bad Matilda’s appointment wasn’t today, they could have carpooled.
With every new wrinkle in Matilda’s pregnancy, Alana was even more grateful that it was an experience she would never have to have. The drive from the neighborhood out to Long Island was a pain in the ass on the best days, and considering how often Matilda had to do the drive, it was a shock she was able to clock into work at all. Then again, her hours were slightly more flexible than Alana’s.
Alana had worked extra every day for the past two weeks to prepare for leaving work early today to come for scans. Normally, she only worked extra on the days leading up to her period, but the amount of time she would have to keep on doing that was getting smaller and smaller.
She sent Shannon her location, so she’d be able to find the car later. The last thing she needed was to lose a rental car.
‘Doctor’s appointment?’ Shannon texted as Alana walked toward the elevators leading into the building.
‘Yup. Preliminary scans to make sure everything is set for removal.’
Shannon sent three different gifs of people screaming, crying, and throwing up, in that order. ‘HELL YEAH ORGAN REMOVAL!!!’ she responded. ‘You know, I bet the only other people who have this level of excitement for removing organs are probably people who sell kidneys and stuff on the black market.’
‘That’s entirely possible, and I guess we’ll never find out,’ Alana replied.
‘I dunno, I still think you should have posted on Craigslist.’
‘I like not being in jail, Shan.’
‘Party pooper.’
‘Yes. Yes I am.’ Alana checked the list of floors, and stepped into the elevator. How the fuck did people navigate this place when they were in labor? They probably just dropped off the laboring person at the ER entrance, and then went to find parking.
‘Is the hubs there? He didn’t post anything in the big chat about you guys going grocery shopping.’
‘Nah, I told him he didn’t have to come to this one,’ Alana said. ‘He’s buried in a project, now, anyway.’
‘He offered?’
‘Have you met Hudson? Of course he offered.’
Hudson would offer the shirt off his back if she needed it.
‘LOL I just wish You from September could see this conversation. She’d never believe it.’
Alana snickered. ‘And You from September would be equally as shocked at the turns your life has made.’
‘Well, yes, but we’re not talking about me.’
‘One day we will.’
‘Was that a threat, Alana?’
‘One hundred percent.’ Alana tucked her phone into her bag, and went up to the receptionist. “Hi. Alana Bruckner? I’m here for some pre-surgical scans?”
The woman clacked on her keyboard for a moment, and nodded. “That you are. Go have a seat, we’ll call you when we’re ready.”
Alana sat down in one of the oversized chairs in the waiting room, glad she had brought her work tablet. Not that she necessarily wanted to work, but the more hours she clocked in now the less she’d have to work tomorrow to make up for it.
Post-surgery was going to be weird, because she was taking actual time off, which. What did one even do on actual time off? She’d never really experienced it, which was something that sent Lane into a tizzy every time they talked about it.
‘I understand that you have to use your time for medical leave, but still, Alana. You deserve to be able to go on vacation and not think about work,’ he’d said, more times than she could count.
And now, she was going to be able to.
Her friends had already started making a list of things for her to do while she was recuperating–Ben had started a spreadsheet, because of course he did, and Ophelia did some Excel magic, because of course she did, and then Jamie color-coordinated it, which made sense entirely. So far there were books, movies, TV shows, music, podcast episodes, and, because Shannon insisted, a section of long-form articles for her to read. ‘You won’t have any excuses not to read them now,’ she had said, which had made Alana laugh, because of course she would still have excuses.
Hudson had said he was going to make her craft kits, which was both incredibly sweet and also possibly a little overambitious for her, unless he basically just made a craft kit that could be done independently by a middle schooler.
After reviewing the handful of emails that had come in since she’d left the office, she pulled up an article she had saved about updates in AI legislation to read, and settled in.
“Alana?”
Alana startled, and looked up to see Mrs. Miller there, wearing a pair of scrubs and a smile. “Hi, Mrs. Miller.”
“I was walking through here on the way to check one of my patients, and imagine my surprise to see you here.” She perched on the seat next to her. “It’s good to see you. How’s everything?”
“Good,” Alana replied, switching off her tablet. “Just here for the pre-surgical scans.”
“Oh, right, Hudson did mention that you were going to be coming this way today. I’m sure he offered to come with you, even though he should be packing now.”
“He did offer,” Alana replied. Packing? Why the fuck was he packing? Where was he going, and why hadn’t he told her? “I told him he didn’t have to, that he has plenty of other things to do that he didn’t have to kill the whole day babysitting me in what mostly will just be sitting in waiting rooms.”
Mrs. Miller nodded sympathetically. “Normally, imaging moves a little bit faster, but one of the techs is out today, and apparently there’s been an influx of imaging requests from the ER, and those usually take precedence.”
Alana nodded. “That makes sense.” She patted her tablet. “I came prepared, just in case.”
“Oh, anything fun?”
“My job,” Alana said.
“Honey. No.”
“Limited PTO problems,” Alana explained.
“Well, hopefully not for long.” Mrs. Miller patted her arm. “I’m thrilled for you, Alana. Have Hudson give you my phone number. If you need anything for the next six weeks while he’s upstate, please call.” She grinned. “It’ll make him feel better, my little overanxious Jewish mother of a son.”
“Will do,” Alana said. Six weeks? He was going to be leaving her for six weeks?
Goddammit, she shouldn’t be so upset about that. She was sure it was for a good reason, and she wasn’t the kind of person who would get in the way of someone’s dreams or anything.
But selfishly, she was going to be upset about it.
Especially the part that he was leaving soon and hadn’t said anything to her yet?
Mrs. Miller bustled off, and Alana pulled out her phone.
She could just text Shannon. Just…let her know what was happening.
But if Hudson hadn’t told her that he was going away for six weeks, Shannon sure as hell didn’t know. And Alana wasn’t going to share that with her without asking him first.
Which meant she was going to have to have an uncomfortable conversation with Hudson tonight when she got home. Ugh. She hated those.
But he was going to have to tell her that he wasn’t going to be home for six weeks.
Six weeks!
She checked her texts. Nothing from Hudson, and in the group chat, Oliver was updating them while he waited for his flight to board…somewhere, she wasn’t sure. Until she’d met Oliver, she hadn’t realized that sometimes being a structural engineer meant a hell of a lot of travel.
“Alana Bruckner?” a voice called. A petite woman, probably around her age, stood near the doors.
Alana gathered her things, and went to go have her insides photographed.
“How do you know Sharrie?” Birdie asked as she pressed the wand down on Alana’s stomach. Alana wasn’t sure what it was about imagining techs and their insistence on pushing down with the wand hard enough that it felt like they were trying to physically touch the organs they were trying to photograph. Maybe it was a fat thing. She had no idea, but didn’t particularly feel like asking.
“Sharrie?”
“Miller.”
“Ohh. Her son is my roommate.”
“The artist?”
Alana nodded. “Yup.”
“What a small world!” Birdie said, reaching over to push a few buttons on her machine. “She’s the best, Sharrie. The only one that any of the radiologists are afraid of, which comes in handy.”
“I cannot imagine anyone being scared of her,” Alana said. “She’s so sweet.”
Birdie laughed. “Oh, she is, don’t get me wrong. But don’t ever mess with anyone she cares about. Her mom glare could be its own weapon of mass destruction.”
“I could see that.”
“I saw her shut down a screaming doctor by looking up at him, and calmly saying, ‘I’m not mad at you for being an overbearing asshole, doctor, I’m just disappointed.’”
“Ouch.”
“For real.” Birdie pressed a few more buttons. “Just a little bit longer, and then we can move on to the MRI. You should feel like a lottery winner, that you get to do both of them on the same day. We can’t usually make that work in the schedule.”
“Maybe I’ll buy a Powerball on my way home,” Alana joked.
“Only if you live in Jersey.”
“Why?” Alana asked, confused at the turn of the conversation.
Birdie turned off the machine and handed Alana some napkins to wipe off her stomach. “Lottery winner disclosure laws in Jersey are much better. You can win there and not have to publicly share your name. In New York, you have to.”
“Huh.” Alana wiped off her stomach. “I didn’t know that. That’s good information to have.”
“Just spreading the good word,” Birdie replied cheerfully. “I’m going to leave the room so you can get dressed again, and then, unfortunately, it’s back to the waiting room for you for a little bit. Have you had an MRI before?”
“No,” Alana replied.
“I’m sure the doctor’s office gave you a rundown of instructions, but as long as you’re in here, you can’t be wearing any jewelry. I’d recommend taking that out before you get there.”
“Oh, right. Thanks.” Alana had remembered this morning when she packed a small fabric bag to store all her jewelry, but had forgotten to take out all her piercings in the rush before she left the office.
“Also, they’ll let you listen to your own playlists,” Birdie said. “And then you won’t have to listen to 1010 WINS.”
“Wow, a throwback.”
“Listen, if, for nostalgia’s sake, you want to listen to all the ways the Long Island Expressway is backed up, go for it.”
“Honestly, I might,” Alana said. At least then she’d be able to use the traffic and weather together on the eights as a way to count how much more time she’d have left.
“It was a pleasure meeting you,” said Birdie. “Have a great rest of your day!”
“Thank you,” Alana said, and waited until Birdie had closed the door firmly behind her before getting redressed.
In the end, she chose her playlists to listen to while she was getting the MRI, which, in retrospect, was probably not a great idea, because it gave her more time to ruminate over all the things she really would have rather avoided thinking about for a sustained fifty seven minutes, which was how long it took.
She wasn’t fully encased, and so she was able to look around the room. Unfortunately for her, there wasn’t much to see, though there was a clock on the wall.
Taunting her, as the hands slowly ticked forward.
This was why she didn’t meditate, no matter how many times Lane told her she should. Because this was what her brain did. And sure, you were supposed to just acknowledge the thought or whatever, and then let it move on, but who’s brains did that?
Which, she could hear Lane say, was the whole reason it was called a practice. Nobody did that naturally.
But at least she tried, and so now she could tell Lane that she had tried meditation and she hadn’t liked it. Sure, possibly was going to tell her that maybe she should have started with a shorter period of time, but it wasn’t like the length of the MRI was up to her.
For someone who didn’t think she was that anxious, and didn’t think she over-thought that much, she sure did a lot of both worrying and overthinking in that damn machine.
If she ever had to get another MRI at any point, she was going podcast only. She didn’t want to have to spend another hour going through all the things she was currently trying to avoid thinking about.
Another hour of wondering why Hudson hadn’t said anything to her about the residency, wondering if he suspected that her feelings for him were more than platonic, if Stewart was actually trying to poach a few of her direct reports or if he was just an asshole who enjoyed nothing more than a power trip, of wondering if there actually was something romantic going on with Ophelia and Jaz or if they’d just become really good friends, of wondering what exactly was going on with Shannon in Montana, because she was not fully sharing that.
Some of the things weren’t bad to worry about, but for every little thought like, ‘I wonder if Oliver is going to go back to his ex, because she seems to genuinely regret cheating on him’, there were three to four that were ‘what if Hudson is doing all of this out of pity and he’s itching to just get divorced and get the fuck out of my apartment, and the sex is just because I’m there and I’m easy’.
“How’d it go?” the radiologist asked after what felt like several centuries, when the MRI was finally finished.
“Ugh, I hated that,” Alana replied.
“Music didn’t help?”
“Apparently I have too many thoughts for just music in an MRI.”
“Some people nap.”
“It’s not a long enough nap time, and then I’d be all groggy, and I have to drive home now.”
The radiologist nodded. “Always better to be safe.”
“Safe with too many thoughts at once than dead with none?”
“Something like that.”
She laughed. “You’ll be getting a call from your doctor tomorrow to officially discuss what happens next.”
“Unofficially, though?”
“Liability and stuff say I can’t tell you anything,” the radiologist replied.
“Should I have an emotional support person with me for the doctor’s phone call?” Alana asked.
The radiologist shrugged. “Emotionally, I think you can handle a phone call from Dr. Flua by yourself. She’s a nice lady.”
“She is,” Alana agreed, relieved.