Author Aija Monique Butler, was born in San Diego California, in 1979. She currently resides in the San Francisco Bay area where she is a student of Medicine pursing a graduate degree in Healthcare Management. She is an Advocate and Philanthropist for non-profit program development in the areas of Youth and Social Service Development. She is a grant writer and holds an extensive background in Psychology and has a host of medical certifications. Aija has a love for the arts and is a writer of poetry both fiction and non-fiction novels and memoirs.

Aija Butler is the Author of the Fiction Mystery Suspense Drama, My Nemesis a book series, Non-Fiction Memoirs, “Life Honestly After, The Undeniable Truth,” and “The Rebirth of My Soul,” an intimidate look at her walk with illness, sharing her journey through recovery and independence. She is also the Poet/Songstress of the Poetic Experience, My Butterfly Effect, and Non-Fiction Poetic Memoirs, In the Mourning.

Latest works involve freelance article writing,and an album of musical and poetic memoirs. Aija also looks to put together her first script and plans to release three new books in the year 2012. Look out for this creative genious she is taking on the world of creative arts by storm.

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Short Story, Assume The Position

“How have you been Ms. Butler?”

“Well all things considered. I’d say I am doing ok. I have been testing my sugars regularly. They have regulated a bit. The Metformin leaves me in a pickle. I am often sick, from its side effects. It sure tells u right away when you have eaten something that you shouldn’t have. These days are rough.”

“How is your schooling coming? I see you started the pharmacology program with Boston Reed Medical College.”

“I did. I am having fun. I didn’t know that it would require so much math. Math was not my subject in school at all. However, once I get the hang of the calculations I enjoy the math very much. I cant believe how much I have learned. I must say that the more I learn about pharmaceuticals, the more afraid I am about taking medication. It almost seems as if the medications give more side effects than their therapeutic purpose. I stopped taking the Sertraline. At, first my anxiety seemed to pass once the chest pain came about. However shortly after I began to have hallucinations. I’m sure that couldn’t be a normal side effect. I discontinued its use immediately. I called to inform you of the change. Nonetheless, I never got a hold of the care coordinator.

Overall school is great. Its beneficial, and the time in class helps me to forget for a few moments about my disease. My family is well hubby has plans to open a barber shop, when we get all of our credentialing.”

“Sounds good. So I have news about your test results.”

“Well, What is it?”

“Well the cocci has filtered your lungs, and we have found some cholesterol in your blood. You are anemic and dehydrated I would like to send you to the hospital today. I am going to admit you and treat you with some antibiotics, give you some fluids, and a blood transfusion. You should be good to go after a few days. I will even furnish a doctors note for school.”

“Wow a doctors note.” I laughed out loud ridiculously. Just before the tears began to roll down my cheeks. I was going insane. There was no way I could go to the hospital. My children needed me. I hadn’t been away from them no more than a few hours since I left the hospital with the boys; and Jazz since my first bout with the disease.

“I’m not going!” I said confidently. In my head. I was afraid to utter my defiant proclamation aloud he may have rounded security. The health officials were sure to strap me down, and bus me over. I wont go. Thank God I had opted to go this appointment alone. I was sure to be transported had family been informed.

“I will fax your admission papers. They should be ready within the hour.“

I cursed him with such passion, my forehead creased and my teeth began to grind. I couldn’t believe how nonchalant he was about the occurrences of today’s events. As if I didn’t have other things to attend to. I was floored my chest felt as if someone was sitting on it. An obese someone for that matter. I wished for a small claim, I could file to sue him for violating my civil rights. I didn’t know exactly what clause I was intending to pursue; but I knew that something had to be done. He tricked me. Much like the follow up appointment I had which was supposed to be a discussion of the diagnostic findings of a blood test. What a croak. The nurse had an attitude. She wore a mean smirk on her face as if she enjoyed torturing patients.

“HA,” the nurse bloated. “I laugh on your lapel.” She pulled out the steal devices, grips, syringes, and the like. They strapped me down for a cervical biopsy. This was a moment in time where my bomb actually began to tick. I myself was worried. A slight chance of insanity could have turned into a murderous rage. I slithered from the doctors office on the verge of tears. I had been hoodwinked by the system. Had I known, I was there for an actual medical procedure I would have made a run for it. That’s the story of my life. All the poking and prodding. The routine blood samples here, urine specimen there.

Might as well just Assume the Position...

Excerpt the book Life Honestly After, Aija M. Butler
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