From Nicole’s journal:
Friday, 29 October-
Nye: “We’re in this together, Nicole.”
“Really, Dr. Nye, we’re not. I feel like I don’t have enough skin on my face. That the skin that is there isn’t mine. That even if it is, it should be on my hip, not my cheek. Is that how you feel?”
Later, I pull up the pictures from my Facebook, the Before, the comments, so many of them, all wishing me a speedy recovery. Recovery?
Ctrl + click gets you the Mac Word dictionary and “Recovery, n., 1. the return to normal health. . 2. The return to a normal state. . 3. The regaining of something lost or taken away.” The definition neglects to mention the maps, the ones that delineate the return trip to normal or the site of the sunken treasure.
A touch to my shoulder. Mom. “Honey, take a nap.” She tucks me in and strokes my hair. When I wake, she’s asleep next to me. Her eyelids are puffy. They will be puffier soon. Tomorrow, going away with Dad to lake house for weekend. Don’t really want to go. Yesterday, Jay rested his head on mine.