Rebels (John Bates) by Scott Powell, Judith Powell Page A

we are done.
     
    “Well, there you go, John, you can put your shirt back on. I learned what I needed to know.” He then turns and walks out of the room.
     
    I sit there, waiting and wondering what to do next. Nurse Garrison comes in a few moments later and instructs me to follow her. As we walk down the corridor, I notice the rooms that line this hall are full of other young men, all dressed in the same jumpsuit I am wearing. These must be the others they were referencing. I wonder again, are we all here for heart surgery? I find it very odd that so many of us would have the same condition at the same time, and more particularly the fact that there are only young men. Why is there a sudden explosion of heart defects?

Chapter 13
     
    We walk down a separate hallway from the others. “This will be your room until after the surgery.” I walk into the clean, blue room. The bed is made with white sheets, and a television set is across from the bed. Nurse Garrison leaves, shutting the door behind her. I turn on the television to see if there is anything on. A few minutes later, a little old woman comes in carrying a cream-colored tray full of food. It is not as good as my mother’s cooking, but it isn’t bad.
     
    I want to call my mother and father and tell them I am okay, but there are no phones, no way to contact them. I noticed even the nurse’s stations are void of phones. I wander into the bathroom and see there is no mirror above the sink—no mirrors anywhere. How will I know what my hair looks like? What if I have a big chocolate pudding stain on my face? I will not even know, unless someone tells me. I decide to become a religious face-washer. I wash my face with the clean white washcloth and the cream-colored soap. After I finish I decide to go to bed early as there is really nothing to do, and I am tired, anyway.
     
    I am really glad I went to bed early because first thing in the morning, Nurse Garrison wakes me up. “The doctor would like to see you. You will follow me.”
     
    I think this is strange. Isn’t the doctor supposed to come to me? I’m the one with the bad heart. But since I have never been in a hospital before, I am unsure of how things work, so I don’t question. Nurse Garrison walks me down the same hallway toward the double doors that leads to the room where I first met Dr. Pruitt.
     
    “Ah, good to see you, John.” Dr. Pruitt shakes my hand the moment I enter the room. This time, Nurse Garrison does not leave. “Early riser, I see. Good man. Let’s get started.” He has me sit up on the examination table and remove my white cotton hospital shirt. He listens to my heart with the stethoscope. “I’m going to take your blood pressure and if that is fine, I’m going to give you a shot.”
     
    “What kind of shot?” I ask the doctor, who seems surprised by the question.
     
    He thinks for a moment before answering me, “It’s a vitamin shot, something that we need to give you in order for you to be ready for your heart surgery. You’ll have a series of shots before and after your surgery, which will make you healthier and stronger.”
     
    After the shot, the doctor has me run through a series of tests and exercises. Then I am taken back to my room.
     
    A daily routine begins: wake up early, test and exercise with Dr. Pruitt, who in turn gives me my morning shot, and vitamin supplements at each meal. In the afternoon, Dr. Pruitt begins meeting me for lunch, asking me about my family, my life. He has many questions and so, over the course of a few days, the doctor and I become good friends. I also notice he is always making sure no one is around when we are conversing, most particularly, Nurse Garrison. I can’t blame him; she is not at all friendly and probably couldn’t care less. I only feel bad for her kids, if she has any.
     
    But I wonder how much longer it will be until the surgery. And I wonder what it will feel like to be cut open. And most importantly, I wonder if