Authors: Josie Leigh
“I wish you weren’t leaving in a few weeks!” Susan hugged Marissa after they’d finished their communications final.
“I know! I’m going to miss you so much!”
“You have my address, and you’d better write to me as much as you possibly can,” she pulled away and looked into Marissa’s eyes. “I know it’s not going to be fun and it’s going to be hard for you.”
“You have to send me some pictures from your European adventure. Don’t forget,” Marissa reminded.
“Oh, I won’t,” she said, getting a far off look in her eye.
“Stop thinking about European sex!” Marissa said, blushing at her words.
“You know me so well for only being friends for a very little amount of time!” Susan chuckled. Marissa laughed with her. “I got you something. You won’t be able to use it for boot, but after, so you can chronicle your time away, or maybe just write down your life?” Susan handed her a book with scattered music on the cover and a shiny silver flute lying on top. Marissa opened to it to discover hundreds of blank lined pages.
“Thank you for this! I’ll be sure to use it when I need to,” Marissa hugged her hard.
“You’re very welcome. Don’t be nervous. You are going to be just fine. If anything happens…” Susan drifted off, ominously.
Marissa gave her a questioning look, “What do you mean?”
“Just- If things don’t go like you plan, know I’m here for you. I have two exchange students next school year, but after that, if you need a place to live, I’m happy to rent you a room,” Susan said.
“Okay, I appreciate that, but I think I’ve got things taken care of for the next six years or so. I hope anyway,” Marissa answered, suddenly skeptical.
“Well, of course, but just keep that in mind,” Susan put her hand on Marissa’s shoulder.
“Definitely,” Marissa smiled and hugged Susan before parting company, for now.
May 2000
Marissa’s good bye to Matthew came the following weekend. It wasn’t as tearful as she’d expected it to be. It was more of an “until we meet again” where no promises were made, nor did they discuss their previous plans that their relationship was over. Much of her good-byes were similar and became rote over the next few weeks, until she got an unexpected ping from someone she never realized she’d need to say good-bye to.
AAndrews:
Hey! Long time, no talk.
MMasterson:
I know! I’ve been so busy at work and with finals.
AAndrews:
I haven’t seen you at any of the shows the last few weeks, is that why?
MMasterson:
Among other things. Just making sure everything is taken care of before I head to Basic.
AAndrews:
Oh yeah, that’s coming up, huh?
MMasterson:
Two more weeks.
MMasterson:
Can’t come soon enough.
AAndrews:
Trouble with your boy?
MMasterson:
No, that’s the only thing that seems to be going right.
AAndrews:
I see.
Marissa was puzzled by his response, considering Kyle had just told her that Aaron had a girlfriend.
MMasterson:
He leaves for his summer program the week after I leave. He came to visit for the last time this past weekend.
AAndrews:
Last time? And you didn’t come to our show?
MMasterson:
We stuck around the house.
AAndrews:
Oh? I’d love to stick around the house with you.
‘Aaron must just be a perpetual flirt,’
Marissa concluded, thinking there is no way he’d ever bring his words to fruition.
MMasterson:
Not like that.
MMasterson
: Well, kind of like that…
AAndrews:
Are you guys not…?
MMasterson:
We have a couple of times, but we are still pretty new to all that stuff…
AAndrews:
New for each other, or new in general?
Marissa wondered why it mattered and contemplated lying about her experience, or lack thereof.
MMasterson:
In general. And I’m petrified to get caught, hence the lack of activity.
MMasterson:
That and my stomach’s been killing me lately.
MMasterson:
We’ve been sticking to my specialty, the oral arts…
‘Shit! Too much information, Marissa!’
AAndrews:
Oh right, you are both living with parents.
MMasterson:
Bingo!
AAndrews:
A specialty, huh?
MMasterson:
So I’m told…
AAndrews:
Isn’t there a thrill to the possibility of getting caught?
MMasterson:
Not by my parents! I only got to enjoy my first time a little for fear that someone might bust into my room!
AAndrews:
How long ago was that?
MMasterson:
The night of the Scruffy show
AAndrews:
WOW! That wasn’t that long ago.
AAndrews:
By the way, I’d love to be on the receiving end of your…specialties…
‘I need to stop the direction of this conversation!’
Marissa thought.
MMasterson:
ANYWAY…Kyle says you are officially off the market?
AAndrews:
Oh, he did? Yeah, I started dating Willa. We’ve been best friends for years. Seemed natural, you know?
Marissa chuckled to herself.
‘Busted!’
MMasterson:
Totally, my best friend, John and I have been off and on in a similar situation.
AAndrews:
Then why are you with Matthew?
MMasterson:
I’m not ready to face reality yet.
MMasterson:
Plus, I’m leaving.
AAndrews:
I’m going to miss talking to you like this.
MMasterson:
Me, too.
For some reason, the thought of not seeing Aaron for a long time upset her the most, but she didn’t want to dissect why. She decided it was better to just bury it deep inside of her and look toward her future. Her future far away from the pain of her house and her family.
CHAPTER 8
So I have to be up in 5 hours, but I don’t care. Matthew told me he loves me, not adores me- loves me. I’m so scared. I’m going to miss him so much, and I love him, too- but I’m not in love with him, he knows that. I just want everything to be okay. I’m going to miss
e
v
e
r
y
o
ne
, a
n
d
I
’
m
g
l
ad
t
o
g
e
t
a
way f
r
om my dad
and brother for awhile. I need to do this for my future. I need to do this for my sanity.
~5/30/00
**
The morning Marissa was supposed to leave for boot camp, she woke up to pain and heat radiating through her body from her stomach.
“Gah!” she managed to gurgle as she tried to pull herself into a sitting position.
“Marissa! We’ve got to get going!” she heard her mother call from down the hall.
“Okay!” she called, through a strained voice, as she gasped for breath.
After a struggle, she finally rolled herself off her twin bed and into a standing position, even though she had to walk like a hunchback, her arms hugged across her stomach tightly. Slowly, she made her way to the bathroom.
“I’m going to take a quick bath!” She yelled, breathlessly.
“Make it fast!” her dad roared from the living room.
“I will,” she answered in a whisper.
“You’d better change your attitude before you leave that bathroom,” her father warned.
She tried to blink back the tears she felt, but the pain was too much. Hot tears spilled over her lids and sliced down her cheeks as she turned the handle on the hot water, filling the bathtub. She stripped as carefully as she could and sank into the hot water. The relief she felt was almost instantaneous, and she took a deep breath again, before attempting to straighten her body out in the bath and washing herself.
“Hurry up!” Her dad’s words sent another twinge of pain catapulting through her body. Her freedom was just a plane ride away, even if she was going to be controlled even more in less than twelve hours, no one would put their hands on her again.
“I’m coming!” she yelled, as she reached for her towel on the rack beside her and dried herself quickly.
**
June 2000
Thirty-six hours, one plane ride and less than two hours of sleep later, Marissa’s stomach was now relentless. She practiced deep breathing techniques she learned from the one yoga class she attempted, but she still felt like her insides were being ripped apart. She tried hard to stand at attention, but the overwhelming need to double over was proving to be too great.
She felt overheated, though Marissa was almost positive that had more to do with the Northern Illinois summer humidity and the fact that she was wearing military issue sweatpants and a sweatshirt. She felt her body start to sway. Luckily, her shipmates surrounding her helped her to stay upright. They were marching from the mess hall toward their barracks for the night when they stopped to allow another company to pass them.
“Come on, Masterson, you can do this,” one of her shipmates whispered beside her. On the last syllable, another jolt of pain rocketed through Marissa’s abdomen and she fell to her knees in a crumpled heap before anyone could catch her. She closed her eyes tightly and gripped her sweatshirt, panting.
“Petty Officer!” her shipmate yelled from behind her in formation as Marissa’s stomach started to heave and empty on the gravel coated walkway.
Marissa tried to focus on the man coming up beside her to yell at her to return to attention, but everything started to go black as she felt the Petty Officer catch her head before it hit the ground.
“Call a medic!” was the last thing Marissa heard before she succumbed to the blackness and numbness settled over the pain.
When Marissa came to, she was hooked up to an IV and was staring into the fluorescent lights flickering above her.
“How are you feeling?” a nurse beside her asked, pulling the curtain around her bed for privacy. She assumed she was in the base hospital because the nurse was in a military uniform.
“I’m not sure. I’m itchy, but I don’t hurt as badly as I did before,” Marissa found her voice to be rough in her ears. “I’m thirsty.” She tried to clear her throat.
“That’s to be expected, we’ve got you on some pain killers and some fluids for dehydration. Also, we’ve taken you back for an upper and lower GI series while you were out. The doctor should be in any moment to explain the results,” the nurse started to take her vitals and make notes on a chart. Marissa looked at the ceiling tiles as the blood pressure cuff on her arm started to tighten.
“Hey! You are back with us!” A man, Marissa assumed was her doctor, came around the curtain with a reassuring smile on his face. Marissa smiled weakly in return. “Well, the GI series and blood work were pretty conclusive, but we have to run one more test to be 100% positive,” he started.
Marissa just blinked up at him from her bed, her mind numb from the pain killers.
“We’ll have to fast for the rest of the day, and take you for a scope tomorrow, but I’m almost positive you have Crohn’s Disease. A pretty severe case, too, to be able to identify it before a scope,” he explained as if his words had significant meaning to her.
“I have what?” she asked, slowly.
“Crohn’s. It’s a disease of your intestinal tract. Not fun to have. We’ll try to get you stabilized here after we confirm the diagnosis and get you started on some medications, and then we’ll send you over to separations,” the doctor continued.
“Separations?” Marissa whispered, tears springing to her eyes.
“Of course! You aren’t healthy enough to continue with basic training. You’ll need to get home and find a gastroenterologist to get you on the proper medication regimen for you. We’ll send you with some general information and once you have a doctor back home, we’ll be happy to forward your records for treatment,” the doctor laid a reassuring hand on Marissa’s arm. “I’m sure with the pain killers, you aren’t getting everything I’m saying, but it’ll be okay.”