Part V

V. Irony.

Charlie has been living as Dr. Richard Smith for a good couple years now, trying to help him too. Probably not the same way he helped Bill, because while good old Bill needed help getting out of the house, Richard needed help building himself a home. Things at the hospital seemed to be working out just fine for Dr. Smith, he had made a few good friends from his colleagues and since he had started putting a little more heart into helping his patients, everybody at the hospital had started to like him more. As for his personal life, Charlie was still trying hard to find a real connection, somebody whom Richard could truly love. Shelly had really broken his heart; he had come close to getting engaged to her. That was of course until he found out she was cheating on him with a guy from work. There was a nurse at the hospital that brought up this warm and fuzzy feeling inside Richard every time he so much as spoke to her or even saw her. However, Nancy the nurse didn’t seem to be all that interested in Dr. Smith. She had been a witness to the endless parade of women that had come and gone from Richard’s life and she had no intention of being one of them. It was on the day of his three-year anniversary with Richard, that Charlie found out his biggest problem wasn’t getting Nancy the nurse to like him.

It was a Wednesday afternoon and Dr. Smith was bored doing post-op rounds. Nancy the nurse was working that same shift and he thought he could talk her into getting a cup of coffee after work. “Maybe if we start going out she’ll see the nice guy in Richard” he thought. “Hey Nancy, listen maybe after work we could…” “Oh no, there he goes again. Quick Nancy, say something about work before he asks you out” she thought. “I got your charts here doctor, would you like me to give you a preview of your next surgery?” “Oh, sure but I was also hoping that you…” “Okay, name: Charles Silver; age: 33; he had a mild heart attack this morning at work. He was rushed in a couple hours ago and is now stable but the X-rays reveal a problem with one of the main arteries…” “Wait, what did you say his name was?” “Uhh, name, name, name oh yeah, Charles Silver, age 33.”

Richard stood there silent, not knowing what to do or say. Was he to operate on his own body? “How is this possible?” he mumbled. “I know right, people is so stressed out these days they’re having heart attacks so young, I once knew a woman who…” Nancy kept talking in the background without acknowledging the fear and astonishment in Dr. Smith’s eyes. “Nancy, listen to me, what room is the patient in?” he finally managed to utter. “Let’s see, room 241.” “Thank you” he said as he ran in the opposite direction, “Wait! Doctor Smith! Should I book an OR...?”

Richard stood by the door looking into the room and there he was, resting on a hospital bed all alone. Looking slightly pale, he looked so different know. It was so strange seeing his body just laying there almost lifeless. That was not the situation he had imagined for so many years, finding his body like this. He had played in his mind numerous scenarios but none of them involved him performing surgery on himself.

Part IV

IV. “Body jumping”

Charlie found out he had somehow “jumped” out of his body and into someone else’s. How did it happen? What triggered it? Would he ever find his body again? Was his body still living? All those questions ran through his head as he went on living as someone else. Sarah Mitchell had been his first, a twenty-year-old law student. He had traveled a great distance from home. He had made a resolution to not tell anybody about what had happened to him because it was just too strange of a story for anybody to believe it. He hadn’t skip any years though, it was as if his essence had flown off his body and into someone else. It was hard to explain, he didn’t have any strange dreams that he remembered before it happened. He could however remember everything about his life and about the other person’s life too. He realized he knew Sarah’s routine, friends and family. He understood everything going on in her classes and felt everything Sarah did. Like the time he ran into Mrs. Williams her history teacher and he felt like he wanted to punch the woman in the face, a person he’d never met before in his life and yet because Sarah hated her so much, so did he. It was strange living another person’s life but it was interesting at the same time. He often thought about what he would tell his father when he got back that is, if he ever got back. He stayed with Sarah for five years. Then, one night he went to sleep and woke up to an ill feeling, he knew immediately what had happened.

He’d jumped again. Who was it this time? He was very relieved to find he’d jumped into a man’s body this time, what wasn’t so relieving was finding out that he’d jumped into the body of a prisoner. The man had been imprisoned for killing two people in an armed robbery. However bad his actions were, Charlie couldn’t help but felt sorry for this man. There was nothing familiar about him. Being in the prisoner’s body made Charlie realize how lucky he had been growing up with his parents, it made him truly understand what his father always talked about. The prisoner’s soul was full of resentment and pain. “This man isn’t really bad, we are always fast to judge others for their actions without really seeing their motives” Charlie thought. He stayed with the prisoner only for three months, but those three months seemed a lot longer than the five years with Sarah.

The third time Charlie jumped he landed in Bill Johnson’s body. Bill was a good man, a widower with three grown children. Bill was already retired and lived a quiet simple life. He rarely went out, not because he didn’t want to but mostly because it was too hard for him to cope with the idea of moving on after his wife’s death. Mrs. Johnson had died of heart disease two years ago. She was, of course, the one who kept the house running; the one who attended to her children’s problems. She was perfect. The memories of Mrs. Johnson made Charlie think of his own mother, making Bill’s sadness even greater. “This time I can help” Charlie thought. “I’ll help Bill overcome his sadness, I’ll give him youth again” Of course he had to be careful too after all Bill was a 62-year-old retiree. Not to mention, any big changes in Bill’s personality would be easily mistaken by his kids as a cry for help or a sign of distress of some kind. “You know how the kids can get” he said as a joke to Bill.

Charlie made Bill re-discover the joy that friends can bring. He made Bill finally take those Spanish lessons he always wanted to but was too afraid to try. Bill’s sons could see the slow change in their father. One of them even asked at one family dinner what had made him change like that. “It’s like I’m a different person” Charlie answered posing as Bill. “No dad, really. Something must have happened that made you change your perspective of life. I mean you were always a great man but after mom passed away we all thought you’d lost yourself. Don’t get me wrong, we’re all very happy that you’re looking better, but we’re also curious to know what brought this change upon you?” “Well you’ll see, one day I woke up, looked in the mirror and felt as though there was some other person living inside me; a person that wanted a different life.” Everybody at the table saw Bill’s eyes glimmer as the words came out of his mouth. Charlie had meant every word and he knew that Bill would be thankful for the things he’d done after he was gone. Even if Bill Johnson wouldn’t know what had happened.

Charlie stayed with Bill Johnson for 10 years and two months until one day at a family gathering Bill decided he wanted to take a nap and fell asleep in the rocking chair on the back porch. This time it took Charlie a few moments to recover from his trip maybe because Bill was so old by the time he’d left him. Dr. Richard Smith would be his last jump.

Part III

III. Charlie Silver.

Charles “Charlie” Silver was born in a middle-class family, first and only son to Lucas and Anne Silver. Being an only child granted little Charlie some advantages. One of them was having the unconditional love and attention of his parents at all times. See, Charlie had been Lucas and Anne’s little miracle. Anne Silver was a very loving and generous woman, perfect candidate to a mother except that she was unable to have children. Firm believer that she was, she told her husband to never mind what the doctors said, she was going to give birth to a child even if it was the last thing she ever did. After a few years of trying and praying, it happened. Against all odds she had become pregnant. Mr. Silver couldn’t believe his eyes the first time he got to hold his son in his own arms. It isn’t hard to imagine that after Charlie was born, his parents dedicated their lives to giving him everything he could possibly need. But don’t be mistaken, Charlie Silver was no momma’s boy. Mr. Silver worked very hard at making his son understand just how lucky he was to be alive and to have a nice house to live in and a family that could provide him with a few comforts. All and all, Charlie was a normal kid, who had been raised by wonderful parents.

It was on the night before his sixteenth birthday that Charlie’s life changed forever. He went to bed a little after eleven, as he always did. He had been working on his literature assignment, reading H.G. Wells “The Time Machine.” “What an amazing thing time-traveling must be” He thought to himself as he fell asleep.

The next morning Charlie opened his eyes to find he was some place unknown. He wasn’t in his bedroom he knew for sure, it kind of looked like a girl’s room. The wallpaper had a floral print; the bed sheets were of pastel tones and smelled like lavender. He spotted on a corner a collection of china dolls; a few pictures here and there, a mirror hanging on the wall and on the opposite end a white desk and a white wicker chair. He stood from the bed feeling a little dizzy. “Here’s something new, why am I wearing a sleeping gown?” Charlie walked to the mirror and couldn’t help but scream at the sight of a girl staring back at him. “I must be dreaming” he thought. He sat down again closed his eyes and began repeating to himself that it was nothing but a dream. “Wake-up Charles, wake-up!” It took a few minutes before Charlie realized it wasn’t a dream. “What happened last night? Where am I?”

Part II

II. Dr. Smith.

“Doctor Richard Smith is a very successful cardiac surgeon, a rising star one might say. Dr. Smith is a bachelor and therefore someone who very much enjoys his trouble-free life. Lives alone in a very nice condo he bought just last year, very expensive too. Even if he is a cardiologist, troubles of the heart he has naught. Dr. Smith has dated all kinds of women from waitresses to lingerie models. None of these women have mattered at all of course; to him they are just like his scrubs; nice to wear when new, but after a day’s work not worth keeping. I could tell you all about the one time he fell in love. Shelly was her name. But all I will tell you is that it didn’t work out. After that, he made up his mind to never let that happen to him again; and it worked. The problem with shutting down your heart is that a little part of you dies along with it. So, after all the partying, the A-list friends, the expensive clothes and cars, Dr. Smith has nothing but coming home to an empty house every night.” He opened his eyes again. “That’s what I could tell you about Dr. Smith. A sad fella” he thought.

Short story part I

I. Waking-up again.

He wakes up with his head pounding, dizzy and confused. He tries to remember where he is, “what happened last night? Is it morning already or is it still night time?” He tries to sit up and clear his head. As he stands from the bed looks around trying to recognize the room he’s in. It’s a big room almost like a hotel suite, next to the bed there is a nightstand, a wallet and a set of keys lie on top. “Richard Smith, M.D.” reads one of the cards in the wallet; I.D. and driver’s license bear the same name. “Okay, I’m a doctor this time” the man says to himself as he stumbles his way to the bathroom. The water is now running in the sink, he washes his face and lets the freshness of the cold water penetrate each pore on his face, washing off every last trace of haziness still lingering in his head.

After putting on a clean shirt he stands in front of the mirror, analyzing every little detail of his new body. The man staring back at him is tall; not too old, maybe in his late thirties, seemingly someone who works out on a regular basis. He stares for a minute at his new face. “There is something sad about those brown eyes and the way his mouth is shaped, almost like a frown.” He says as he closes his eyes.

Is self destruction right for you?

According to Wikipedia self-destructive behavior is a widely used phrase that conceptualises certain kinds of destructive acts as belonging to the self. It also has the property that it characterises certain kinds of self-inflicted acts as destructive. The term comes from objective psychology, wherein all apparent self-inflicted harm or abuse toward oneself is treated as a collection of actions, and therefore as a pattern of behaviour. But what determines certain acts or conducts as "destructive behavior"? Sometimes we do things or say words that, to our thinking, are hardly self-destructive. It isn't necessary to go as far as having an eating disorder or to be an alcoholic to say that we are self-destructive. Lately women are put through so much pressure to be "perfect" and by perfect I don't mean looking like a Barbie doll I mean being a career woman, family oriented, healthy, concerned about the latest society issues, politically involved, and so many other things that even though us feminists have been the ones to fight for over the years, it seems as though they weight a little more when put over our shoulders.
All these pressures that we have brought upon ourselves are causing us to stress to the point where we're killing ourselves just so we can prove ourselves important to others. I won't lie, I do sometimes think to myself "Don't even try it, you can't possibly pull that off". And even if the Psychologists say that saying that sort of phrases to yourself on a regular basis is "self-destructive behavior" I say it's quite the opposite. I for one, take pride in knowing my limits. It took me a while to figure out that it is IMPOSSIBLE to please every one. Think about it, telling yourself that you have certain limitations isn't putting yourself down, it is merely an act of acceptance towards yourself. To accept that you are not meant to be Wonder Woman, but a great woman nonetheless, is the ultimate act of love. So I'd like to conclude by making an invitation to all the wonderful women reading this to love yourselves just the way you are.

¿Ansiedad Dental?

Hace una semana decidimos que era hora de visitar al dentista para una revisión general. Yo estoy acostumbrada a las visitas con el dentista, pero para mis dos hermanas era una experiencia completamente nueva. Cada vez que nos adentramos a lo desconocido existe un factor de ansiedad y expectativa. En mi caso, se debía a que nunca habia consultado con este dentista en particular. Lo que paso después me hizo entender porque hay ciertas personas que temen tanto visitar la oficina de un dentista. Fue, hasta la fecha, ¡la peor experiencia que haya tenido en el consultorio de cualquier doctor! La mujer era extremadamente tosca y en algun momento llegue a pensar que se estaba divirtiendo de ver en mi rostro el dolor. No me quedaba nada mas que decir (en parte porque no podia ni abrir la boca): La mujer es una sádica. A partir de esa experiencia comencé a preguntarme si al igual que existen las fobias a las alturas, a las arañas e incluso a las tortugas (es real, tengo una amiga que lo sufre) podía existir una fobia a los dentistas o en todo caso a las visitas con los dentistas. Resulta que si existe; se llama Ansiedad Dental. No se exactamente si califica como una fobia a pesar que ciertas personas sí experimentan un terror irracional cuando se enfrentan a esta situación. Según el sitio web www.odontologia.com La ansiedad dental es un trazo de ansiedad que se relaciona a un tratamiento dental y puede medirse con la prueba de psicometría EAD, Escala de Ansiedade Dentária, que es una versión del portugués de DAS - Dental Anxiety Scale. Y ahi lo tienen, es una realidad. Esta condición afecta alrededor de un 8% de la población, estos pacientes se ven afectados por tres factores: La novedad, la incertidumbre y la expectativa, sensaciones que todos experimentamos al enfrentarnos a una situación nueva que puede ser incomoda, pero en el caso de estas personas, se ven magnificados. Pero no hay porque preocuparse, esta situación puede prevenirse con tecnicas sencillas como informarse sobre los procedimientos dentales que se nos realizarán, la conducta positiva (que le falta enormemente a mi dentista) y las tecnicas de relajación. Asi que la proxima vez que tengan una cita con el dentista recuerden mantenerse lo mas relajados posibles y en caso de tener una experiencia dolorosa o traumática (como la mía) pueden siempre recurrir a la buena terapia de ¡bloggear sobre eso!