This is a Simulation

I put my mask on as I enter the hospital. The smell of disinfectent fills my nose. I push the button and wait for the elevator. I ride the elevator down. One, two, three floors. I hear the ding as it stops. The doors open and I walk across the hall to yet another set of elevators. I push the button. It dings, I enter. I choose my floor. The doors open and I walk to a small screen. I type my name and hit enter. The screen reads, “you are checked in, please have a seat.” I walk to the couch and sit on the hard slab they call a cushion. The T.V. on the wall plays but I am not paying attention. I mindlessly scroll through my phone as I wait for my name to be called. “Kaylie?” I walk to the desk. A woman behind it verifies my insurance information and validates my parking ticket. “You may have a seat. They will be with you shortly.” I head back to the rock hard couch and once again take a seat. I mindlessly scroll. A door opens, “Kaylie?” I hear once more. I look up. A woman in scrubs and a mask is there to greet me. I grab my bag and stand. Slipping my phone into my back pocket I meet the woman at the door. We exchange greetings and she leads me down the beige hallway. All sense of direction is lost as we weave through the maze. We stop at an open door and she gestures for me to enter. I do and find a chair to place my things. She lays a scrub top on the bed and instructs me on how to wear it. She excuses herself and closes the curtain. I change into the top and open the curtain to let her know I am all set. She methodically applies stickers to my chest and abdomen. A blood pressure cuff is added to my right arm. A blood oxygen monitor is clamped onto my pointer finger. Wires with clips at the end like mini lobster claws are attached to the stickers. A few seconds go by she moves the blood pressure cuff to my left arm. It inflates until I am sure my arm will fall off. Slowly it deflates. She removes the lobster claws but leaves the stickers for me to remove. She removes the blood oxygen monitor from my finger and moves the cuff to my right leg. Again it inflates…deflates. Left leg. Inflates…deflates. She records the numbers on a sticky note. She removes the cuff and hangs it back on the machine standing beside the bed. She walks to the computer and sits on the rolling stool. She logs into the computer and records the numbers. A lot of numbers. I remove the stickers. She asks me a hundred questions and records my answers. After she is finished she informs me the doctor will be in shortly.

Everything is so routine. Things I have done hundreds of times, it feels like thousands. Everything is the same. Is it real? Am I real? Is this heart condition they tell me I have real? It feels like a simulation. Five, ten, fifteen, twenty minutes go by. A soft knock on the door. The doctor enters. We catch up on each others lives. She asks more medical questions. She puts her stethoscope in her ears and to my back. She tells me to take a deep breath. Again. She places the stethoscope to my chest. I take two more deep breaths. She listens. She listens to my lungs, my heart. She puts the stethoscope back around her neck. I lay down. She checks my liver and my pulse. I sit back up. She sits on the stool. She tells me everything sounds great. We talk more. I participate. I listen. I answer. I ask a question. But none of it feels real. Is this me? I feel like I am playing a character. Who is she? She is not Kaylie. At least not the Kaylie I know. I think about leaving. I think about leaving the building and turning back into myself. This is fake. The me outside the hospital is not the me inside the hospital. Are they the same person? Are they both real? How can I be Kaylie all the time but “Kaylie” at the hospital? Which one is real? Both?