I am an 81-year-old widow with an unsteady balance. But my friends have told me that I have the face and appearance of a younger woman. Not long ago, after finishing breakfast, a strange sensation came over me. My entire body, including my mind, felt numb and disoriented. Sitting at the dining table, I felt my body leaning to the right and then to the left.
I tried hard to keep my eyes open. Despite everything, I was aware that my body was still swaying. Fearing that I would fall to the ground, which had happened to me before, I stood up, hoping to shake off whatever had taken over my body.
As I approached the kitchen, my body gave way and I fell. Hard. I tried to get up twice, but I couldn't. I was alone, in shock, with no way to get help.
My first thought was to call 911, but my cell phone was on the dining room table, where I always kept it.
I walked over to the counter, stretched as far as I could, grabbed my phone, and dialed 911. I remembered that I had given a key to my neighbor and friend Rodney, so I gave his number to the firefighter who answered my call.
The ambulance arrived quickly. It was 9:30 a.m. when I arrived, and Long Beach Memorial Medical Center was eerily quiet. A nurse came into my room and asked me a few questions, took my blood pressure, pricked my finger and drew a small amount of blood, then said the doctor would be in soon. There was nothing for me to do but lie there and wait. And listen.
I heard a nurse asking questions to her patient in the “room” to my right. It wasn’t hard to hear, as these rooms were only divided by curtains.
“How tall are you?”
“Six-six,” a deep male voice replied.
Six-six? Wow! That caught my attention.
“Do you drink?” she asked.
“Every day,” he said jokingly.
“What’s your cell phone number?” I heard the numbers and, for some strange reason, wrote them down.
“When was the last time you had a drink?”
“Last night I went out with my friends and had a few beers.”
So he's single! Great! He seemed so nice that instead of repelling me, I was turned on.
I really wanted to talk to him, but that would be weird, wouldn't it? I reminded myself that we were in a hospital, not a social event. Still, my desire to connect with him was stronger than my common sense.
“Hey, neighbor,” I called out before saying, “You sound so smart and cute that I had to say hi.” Oh my god, I did it!
“Hello, neighbor,” he replied warmly.
Excited and with my heart racing, I waited for him to continue the conversation, but he didn't. So I assumed that was it, but I wondered why.
Then I heard a female voice other than his nurse. His wife. He's married. Damn it.
Finally the doctor came to see me. He said my blood pressure was normal and the blood work was fine.
“I just want to do a CT scan of your head. I don’t expect to find anything, but just in case.”
A technician pulled back the curtains and entered my small space with a stretcher. We happened to be heading in the direction of my neighbor's room. A forced look through the small opening of his curtains was all it took. He was attractive!
Coming back from the ultrasound, I took another look at the narrow opening in her room. This time I saw a young woman and two grey-haired men who I assumed were her friends. I was stunned! Grey hair? My neighbour had light red hair, from what I could see.
Back in my room, I waited for the doctor. The fact that my neighbor (I wish I knew his name) was married made the possibilities harder to guess. Then I heard another female voice, low, somewhat sexy, also raspy and very annoying.
“You know, guys, if Dad had given me any reason to worry, I would have called you right away.”
Daughter? She's not married. Single! She's still single. No wonder she didn't say anything else.
Finally my doctor came back. “Everything is fine. You can go home.”
After nine hours in the hospital, I put on the only item of clothing I had with me: my nightgown. A hint of sadness came over me.
I left the room and stopped to take one last look into my neighbor’s room and saw a gurney carrying him somewhere. A CT scan? An MRI? Surgery? I watched as they wheeled him away until the gurney disappeared from view. Then I left.
I looked back on the experience and felt proud that I had the courage to do it. It was a little adventure and a welcome distraction.
After I got home, I called a close friend, Beverly, to tell her about my fun fantasy and that I wrote down her phone number, but that I would never contact her.
She said, “I think you should.”
“I'm not going to do it. She'd think I was a stalker.”
We had several discussions about this topic. The last thing I said to him was, “Why should I do this?”
“Because you never know.”
“I won’t,” I said out loud, hoping that the subject would finally be dropped. But what he said stuck in my head.
A few days later, throwing caution to the winds, I texted him. He replied, “Hey, neighbor.” Several texts and photos later, he said, “I want to meet you.” Oh my god.
“What's on your mind?”
“I’m a spontaneous guy. How about today? At 5? El Torito in Long Beach.”
“I can be spontaneous. El Torito is perfect. See you at 5.”
My fantasy was coming true!
Then Beverly called me: “How are things going?”
“I can’t talk. I’ll meet him in an hour.”
“Good luck! And don’t forget…”
“I remember,” we said together, “You never know!”
I hung up and finished getting dressed, my heart racing (in a good way) at what I was about to do.
The author is a freelance writer who wrote an autobiography, “My Sexual Awakening at 70,” published on Amazon. She has also written three psychological thriller novels, which are available for resale.
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